diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284-8.txt | 6301 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 147824 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 159069 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284-h/16284-h.htm | 7358 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284.txt | 6301 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 16284.zip | bin | 0 -> 147679 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
9 files changed, 19976 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16284-8.txt b/16284-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d30083 --- /dev/null +++ b/16284-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6301 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Matthew Arnold + +Author: George Saintsbury + +Release Date: July 13, 2005 [EBook #16284] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +MODERN ENGLISH WRITERS. + + * * * * * + +MATTHEW ARNOLD...... Professor SAINTSBURY. + +R.L. STEVENSON...... L. COPE CORNFORD. + +JOHN RUSKIN ....... Mrs MEYNELL. + +ALFRED TENNYSON ..... ANDREW LANG. + +THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY ... EDWARD CLODD. + +THACKERAY ........ CHARLES WHIBLEY. + +GEORGE ELIOT....... A.T. QUILLER-COUCH. + +BROWNING......... C.H. HERFORD. + +FROUDE.......... JOHN OLIVER HOBBES. + +DICKENS ......... W.E. HENLEY. + +[Symbol: 3 asterisks] _Other Volumes will be announced in due +course_. + + * * * * * + +WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, EDINBURGH AND LONDON + +MATTHEW ARNOLD + +BY + + +GEORGE SAINTSBURY + +PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE +UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH + +THIRD IMPRESSION + +WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS +EDINBURGH AND LONDON +MCMII + + + + +PREFACE. + + +Mr. Matthew Arnold, like other good men of our times, disliked the +idea of being made the subject of a regular biography; and the only +official and authoritative sources of information as to the details of +his life are the _Letters_ published by his family, under the +editorship of Mr G.W.E. Russell (2 vols., London, 1895)[1]. To these, +therefore, it seems to be a duty to confine oneself, as far as such +details are concerned, save as regards a very few additional facts +which are public property. But very few more facts can really be +wanted except by curiosity; for in the life of no recent person of +distinction did things literary play so large a part as in Mr +Arnold's: of no one could it be said with so much truth that, family +affections and necessary avocations apart, he was _totus in +illis_. And these things we have in abundance.[2] If the following +pages seem to discuss them too minutely, it can only be pleaded that +those to whom it seems so are hardly in sympathy with Matthew Arnold +himself. And if the discussion seems to any one too often to take the +form of a critical examination, let him remember Mr. Arnold's own +words in comparing the treatment of Milton by Macaulay and by M. +Scherer:-- + + "Whoever comes to the _Essay on Milton_ with the desire to get + at the real truth about Milton, whether as a man or a poet, will + feel that the essay in nowise helps him. A reader who only wants + rhetoric, a reader who wants a panegyric on Milton, a panegyric on + the Puritans, will find what he wants. A reader who wants criticism + will be disappointed." + +I have endeavoured, in dealing with the master of all English critics +in the latter half of the nineteenth century, to "help the reader who +wants criticism." + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Mr Arthur Galton's _Matthew Arnold_ (London, 1897) adds a +few pleasant notes, chiefly about dachshunds. + +[2] It is impossible, in dealing with them, to be too grateful to Mr. +T. B. Smart's _Bibliography of Matthew Arnold_ (London, 1892), a +most craftsmanlike piece of work. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + * * * * * + +CHAP. + +I. LIFE TILL MARRIAGE, AND WORK TILL THE PUBLICATION OF THE +_POEMS_ OF 1853 + +II. LIFE FROM 1851-62--SECOND SERIES OF _POEMS_--_MEROPE_--_ON +TRANSLATING HOMER_ + +III. _A FRENCH ETON_--_ESSAYS IN CRITICISM_--_CELTIC LITERATURE_--_NEW +POEMS_--LIFE FROM 1862 TO 1867 + +IV. IN THE WILDERNESS + +V. THE LAST DECADE + +VI. CONCLUSION + + * * * * * + +INDEX + + + + + +MATTHEW ARNOLD. + + * * * * * + + + +CHAPTER I. + +LIFE TILL MARRIAGE, AND WORK TILL THE PUBLICATION OF THE _POEMS_ +OF 1853. + + +Even those who are by no means greedy of details as to the biography +of authors, may without inconsistency regret that Matthew Arnold's +_Letters_ do not begin till he was just five-and-twenty. And then +they are not copious, telling us in particular next to nothing about +his literary work (which is, later, their constant subject) till he +was past thirty. We could spare schoolboy letters, which, though often +interesting, are pretty identical, save when written by little prigs. +But the letters of an undergraduate--especially when the person is +Matthew Arnold, and the University the Oxford of the years +1841-45--ought to be not a little symptomatic, not a little +illuminative. We might have learnt from them something more than we +know at present about the genesis and early stages of that not +entirely comprehensible or classifiable form of Liberalism in matters +political, ecclesiastical, and general which, with a kind of altered +Voltairian touch, attended his Conservatism in literature. Moreover, +it is a real loss that we have scarcely anything from his own pen +about his poems before _Sohrab and Rustum_--that is to say, about the +great majority of the best of them. By the time at which we have full +and frequent commentaries on himself, he is a married man, a harnessed +and hard-working inspector of schools, feeling himself too busy for +poetry, not as yet tempted by promptings within or invitations from +without to betake himself to critical prose in any quantity or +variety. Indeed, by a not much more than allowable hyperbole, we may +say that we start with the book of his poetry all but shut, and the +book of his prose all but unopened. + +We must therefore make what we can of the subject, and of course a +great deal more is to be made in such a case of the work than of the +life. The facts of the latter are but scanty. Matthew Arnold, as all +the world knows, was the son--the eldest son--of the famous Dr +(Thomas) Arnold, Head-master of Rugby, and Regius Professor of Modern +History at Oxford, where he had earlier been a Fellow of Oriel. Dr +Arnold survives in the general memory now chiefly by virtue of his +head-mastership, which was really a remarkable one, whatever +distinction it may owe to the loyalty of such a group of pupils as his +son, Dean Stanley, Clough, "Tom Brown" Hughes, and others. But he was, +if not positively great, a notable and influential person in many +ways. As a historian he was alert and intelligent, though perhaps too +much under the influence of that subtlest and most dangerous kind of +"popular breeze" which persuades those on whom it blows that they are +sailing not with but away from the vulgar. As a scholar he was +ingenious, if not very erudite or deep. He was really a master, and +has been thought by some good judges a great master, of that admirable +late Georgian academic style of English prose, which is almost the +equal of the greatest. But he was, if not exactly _cupidus novarum +rerum_ in Church and State, very ready to entertain them; he was +curiously deficient in logic; and though the religious sense was +strong in him, he held, and transmitted to his son, the heresy--the +foundation of all heresies--that religion is something that you can +"bespeak," that you can select and arrange to your own taste; that it +is not "to take or to leave" at your peril and as it offers itself. + +On August 11, 1820, Dr Arnold married Mary Penrose, and as he had +devoted his teaching energies, which were early developed, not to +school or university work, but to the taking of private pupils at +Laleham on the Thames, between Staines and Chertsey, their eldest son +was born there, on Christmas Eve, 1822. He was always enthusiastic +about the Thames valley, though not more so than it deserves, and in +his very earliest letter (January 2, 1848) we find record of a visit, +when he found "the stream with the old volume, width, shine, rapid +fulness, 'kempshott,'[1] and swans, unchanged and unequalled." He was +only six years old when his father was elected to the head-mastership +of Rugby; he was educated in his early years at his birthplace, where +an uncle, the Rev. John Buckland, carried on the establishment, and at +the age of fourteen he was sent to Winchester, his father's school. +Here he only remained a year, and entered Rugby in August 1837. He +remained there for four years, obtaining an open Balliol scholarship +in 1840, though he did not go up till October 1841. In 1840 he had +also gained the prize for poetry at Rugby itself with _Alaric at +Rome_, a piece which was immediately printed, but never reprinted +by its author, though it is now easily obtainable in the 1896 edition +of those poems of his which fell out of copyright at the seven years +after his death. + +It is an observation seldom falsified, that such exercises, by poets +of the higher class, display neither their special characteristics, +nor any special characteristics at all. Matthew Arnold's was not one +of the exceptions. It is very much better than most school prize +poems: it shows the critical and scholarly character of the writer +with very fair foreshadowing; but it does not fore-shadow his poetry +in the very least. It is quite free from the usual formal faults of a +boy's verse, except some evidences of a deficient ear, especially for +rhyme ("full" and "beautiful," "palaces" and "days"). It manages a +rather difficult metre (the sixain rhymed _ababcc_ and ending +with an Alexandrine) without too much of the monotony which is its +special danger. And some of the tricks which the boy-poet has caught +are interesting and abode with him, such as the _anadiplosis_-- + + "Yes, there are stories registered on high, + Yes, there are stains Time's fingers cannot blot"; + +in which kind he was to produce some years later the matchless + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade," + +of the _Scholar-Gipsy_. On the whole, the thing is correct but +colourless; even its melancholy is probably mere Byronism, and has +nothing directly to do with the later quality of _Dover Beach_ +and _Poor Matthias_. + +Of Mr Arnold's undergraduate years we have unluckily but little +authentic record, and, as has been said, not one letter. The most +interesting evidence comes from Principal Shairp's well-known lines in +_Balliol Scholars, 1840-1843_, written, or at least published, +many years later, in 1873:-- + + "The one wide-welcomed for a father's fame, + Entered with free bold step that seemed to claim + Fame for himself, nor on another lean. + + So full of power, yet blithe and debonair, + Rallying his friends with pleasant banter gay, + Or half a-dream chaunting with jaunty air + Great words of Goethe, catch of Béranger, + We see the banter sparkle in his prose, + But knew not then the undertone that flows + So calmly sad, through all his stately lay."[2] + +Like some other persons of much distinction, and a great many of +little or none, he "missed his first," in December 1844; and though he +obtained, three months later, the consolation prize of a Fellowship +(at Oriel, too), he made no post-graduate stay of any length at the +university. The then very general, though even then not universal, +necessity of taking orders before very long would probably in any case +have sent him wandering; for it is clear from the first that his bent +was hopelessly anti-clerical, and he was not merely too honest, but +much too proud a man, to consent to be put in one of the priests' +offices for a morsel of bread. It may well be doubted--though he felt +and expressed not merely in splendid passages of prose and verse for +public perusal, but in private letters quite towards the close of his +life, that passionate attachment which Oxford more than any other +place of the kind inspires--whether he would have been long at home +there as a resident. For the place has at once a certain republicanism +and a certain tyranny about its idea, which could not wholly suit the +aspiring and restless spirit of the author of _Switzerland_. None +of her sons is important to Oxford--the meanest of them has in his +sonship the same quality as the greatest. Now it was very much at Mr +Arnold's heart to be important, and he was not eager to impart or +share his qualities. + +However this may be, there were ample reasons why he should leave the +fold. The Bar (though he was actually called and for many years went +circuit as Marshal to his father-in-law, Mr Justice Wightman) would +have suited him, in practice if not in principle, even less than the +Church; and he had no scientific leanings except a taste for botany. +Although the constantly renewed cries for some not clearly defined +system of public support for men of letters are, as a rule, absurd, +there is no doubt that Mr Arnold was the very man for a sinecure, and +would have justified the existence of Pipe or Hanaper to all +reasonable men. But his political friends had done away with nearly +all such things, and no one of the very few that remained fell to his +lot. His father had died in 1842, but the son served a short +apprenticeship to school-teaching at Rugby, then became private +secretary to Lord Lansdowne, the President of the Council (it is now +that we first meet him as an epistoler), and early in 1851 was +appointed by his chief to an inspectorship of schools. Having now a +livelihood, he married, in June of that year, Frances Lucy Wightman, +daughter of a judge of the Queen's Bench. Their first child, Thomas, +was born on July 6, 1852, and Mr Arnold was now completely estated in +the three positions of husband, father, and inspector of schools, +which occupied--to his great delight in the first two cases, not quite +so in the third--most of his life that was not given to literature. +Some not ungenerous but perhaps rather unnecessary indignation has +been spent upon his "drudgery" and its scanty rewards. It is enough to +say that few men can arrange at their pleasure the quantity and +quality of their work, and that not every man, even of genius, has had +his bread-and-butter secured for life at eight-and-twenty. + +But in the ten or twelve years which had passed since _Alaric at +Rome_, literature itself had been by no means neglected, and in +another twelvemonth after the birth of his first-born, Matthew Arnold +had practically established his claim as a poet by utterances to which +he made comparatively small additions later, though more than half his +life was yet to run. And he had issued one prose exercise in +criticism, of such solidity and force as had not been shown by any +poet since Dryden, except Coleridge. + +These documents can hardly be said to include the Newdigate poem +(_Cromwell_) of 1843: they consist of _The Strayed Reveller and other +Poems_, by "A.," 1849; _Empedocles on Etna, and other Poems_, [still] +by "A.," 1852; and _Poems_ by Matthew Arnold, a new edition, 1853--the +third consisting of the contents of the two earlier, with _Empedocles_ +and a few minor things omitted, but with very important additions, +including _Sohrab and Rustum, The Church of Brou, Requiescat_, and +_The Scholar-Gipsy_. The contents of all three must be carefully +considered, and the consideration may be prefaced by a few words on +_Cromwell_. + +This [Greek: agonisma], like the other, Mr Arnold never included in +any collection of his work; but it was printed at Oxford in the year +of its success, and again at the same place, separately or with other +prize poems, in 1846, 1863, and 1891. It may also be found in the +useful non-copyright edition above referred to. Couched in the +consecrated couplet, but not as of old limited to fifty lines, it is +"good rhymes," as the elder Mr Pope used to say to the younger; but a +prudent taster would perhaps have abstained, even more carefully than +in the case of the _Alaric_, from predicting a real poet in the +author. It is probably better than six Newdigates out of seven at +least, but it has no distinction. The young, but not so very young, +poet--he was as old as Tennyson when he produced his unequal but +wonderful first volume--begins by borrowing Wordsworth's two voices of +the mountain and the sea, shows some impression here and there from +Tennyson's own master-issue, the great collection of 1842, which had +appeared a year before, ventures on an Alexandrine-- + + "Between the barren mountains and the stormy sea" + +--which comes as a pleasant relief, and displays more than once (as he +did afterwards in _Tristram and Iseult_) an uncertain but by no means +infelicitous variety of couplet which he never fully or fairly worked +out, but left for Mr William Morris to employ with success many years +later. Otherwise the thing is good, but negligible. It would have +taken an extremely strong competition, or an extremely incompetent +examiner, to deprive it of the prize; but he must have been a sanguine +man who, in giving the author that prize, expected to receive from him +returns of poetry. + +Yet they came. If we did not know that the middle of this century was +one of the nadirs of English[3] criticism, and if we did not know +further that even good critics often go strangely wrong both in praise +and in blame of new verse, it would be most surprising that _The +Strayed Reveller_ volume should have attracted so little attention. +It is full of faults, but that is part of the beauty of it. Some of +these faults are those which, persevering, prevented Mr Arnold from +attaining a higher position than he actually holds in poetry; but no +critic could know that. There is nothing here worse, or more +necessarily fatal, than many things in Tennyson's 1830 and 1832 +collections: he overwent those, so might Mr Arnold have overgone +these. And the promise--nay, the performance--is such as had been seen +in no verse save Tennyson's, and the almost unnoticed Browning's, for +some thirty years. The title-poem, though it should have pleased even +a severe judge, might have aroused uncomfortable doubts even in an +amiable one. In the first place, its rhymelessness is a caprice, a +will-worship. Except blank verse, every rhymeless metre in English has +on it the curse of the _tour de force_, of the acrobatic. Campion +and Collins, Southey and Shelley, have done great things in it; but +neither _Rose-cheeked Laura_ nor _Evening_, neither the +great things in _Thalaba_ nor the great things in _Queen +Mab_, can escape the charge of being caprices. And caprice, as some +have held, is the eternal enemy of art. + +But the caprice of _The Strayed Reveller_ does not cease with its +rhymelessness. The rhythm and the line-division are also studiously +odd, unnatural, paradoxical. Except for the "poetic diction" of +putting "Goddess" after "Circe" instead of before it, the first stave +is merely a prose sentence, of strictly prosaic though not +inharmonious rhythm. But in this stave there is no instance of the +strangest peculiarity, and what seems to some the worst fault of the +piece, the profusion of broken-up decasyllables, which sometimes +suggest a very "corrupt" manuscript, or a passage of that singular +stuff in the Caroline dramatists which is neither blank verse, nor any +other, nor prose. Here are a few out of many instances-- + + "Is it, then, evening + So soon? [_I see the night-dews + Clustered in thick beads_], dim," etc. + + * * * + ["_When the white dawn first + Through the rough fir-planks. _"] + + * * * + ["_Thanks, gracious One! + Ah! the sweet fumes again._"] + + * * * + ["_They see the Centaurs + In the upper glens._"] + +One could treble these--indeed in one instance (the +sketch of the Indian) the entire stanza of _eleven_ lines, by the +insertion of one "and" only, becomes a smooth blank-verse piece of +_seven_, two of which are indeed hemistichs, and three "weak-ended," +but only such as are frequent in Shakespeare-- + + "They see the Indian drifting, knife in hand, + His frail boat moored to a floating isle--thick-matted + With large-leaved [_and_] low-creeping melon-plants + And the dark cucumber. + He reaps and stows them, drifting, drifting: round him, + Round his green harvest-plot, flow the cool lake-waves, + The mountains ring them." + +Nor, perhaps, though the poem is a pretty one, will it stand criticism +of a different kind much better. Such mighty personages as Ulysses and +Circe are scarcely wanted as mere bystanders and "supers" to an +imaginative young gentleman who enumerates, somewhat promiscuously, a +few of the possible visions of the Gods. There is neither classical, +nor romantic, nor logical justification for any such mild effect of +the dread Wine of Circe: and one is driven to the conclusion that the +author chiefly wanted a frame, after his own fashion, for a set of +disconnected vignettes like those of Tennyson's _Palace of Art_ +and _Dream of Fair Women_. + +But if the title poem is vulnerable, there is plenty of compensation. +The opening sonnet-- + + "Two lessons, Nature, let me learn of thee"-- + +is perhaps rather learnt from Wordsworth, yet it does not fail to +strike the note which fairly differentiates the Arnoldian variety of +Wordsworthianism--the note which rings from _Resignation_ to +_Poor Matthias_, and which is a very curious cross between two +things that at first sight may seem unmarriageable, the Wordsworthian +enthusiasm and the Byronic despair. But of this[4] more when we have +had more of its examples before us. The second piece in the volume +must, or should, have struck--for there is very little evidence that +it did strike--readers of the volume as something at once considerable +and, in no small measure, new. _Mycerinus_, a piece of some 120 +lines or so, in thirteen six-line stanzas and a blank-verse +_coda_, is one of those characteristic poems of this century, +which are neither mere "copies of verses," mere occasional pieces, nor +substantive compositions of the old kind, with at least an attempt at +a beginning, middle, and end. They attempt rather situations than +stories, rather facets than complete bodies of thought, or +description, or character. They supply an obvious way of escape for +the Romantic tendency which does not wish to break wholly with +classical tradition; and above all, they admit of indulgence in that +immense _variety_ which seems to have become one of the chief +devices of modern art, attempting the compliances necessary to gratify +modern taste. + +The Herodotean anecdote of the Egyptian King Mycerinus, his +indignation at the sentence of death in six years as a recompense for +his just rule, and his device of lengthening his days by revelling all +night, is neither an unpromising nor a wholly promising subject. The +foolish good sense of Mr Toots would probably observe--and +justly--that before six years, or six months, or even six days were +over, King Mycerinus must have got very sleepy; and the philosophic +mind would certainly recall the parallel of Cleobis and Biton as to +the best gift for man. Mr Arnold, however, draws no direct moral. The +stanza-part of the poem, the king's expostulation, contains very fine +poetry, and "the note" rings again throughout it, especially in the +couplet-- + + "And prayers, and gifts, and tears, are fruitless all, + _And the night waxes, and the shadows fall_." + +The blank-verse tail-piece is finer still in execution; it is, with +the still finer companion-_coda_ of _Sohrab and Rustum_, the +author's masterpiece in the kind, and it is, like that, an early and +consummate example of Mr Arnold's favourite device of finishing +without a finish, of "playing out the audience," so to speak, with +something healing and reconciling, description, simile, what not, to +relieve the strain of his generally sad philosophy and his often +melancholy themes. + +One may less admire, despite its famous and often-quoted line, + + "Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole," + +the sonnet _To a Friend_, praising Homer and Epictetus and +Sophocles, for it seems to some to have a smatch of priggishness. Nor +am I one of those who think very highly of the much longer _Sick +King in Bokhara_ which (with a fragment of an _Antigone_, +whereof more hereafter) follows, as this sonnet precedes, _The +Strayed Reveller_ itself. There is "the note," again, and I daresay +the orientalism has the exactness of colour on which, as we know from +the _Letters_, Mr Arnold prided himself. Yet the handling of the +piece seems to me prolix and uncertain, and the drift either very +obscure or somewhat unimportant. But about the _Shakespeare_ +sonnet which follows there can be no controversy among the competent. +"Almost adequate" is in such a case the highest praise; and it must be +given. + +The companions of this sonnet are respectable, but do not deserve much +warmer words; and then we turn to a style of poem remarkably different +from anything which the author had yet published and from most of his +subsequent work. It is not unnoteworthy that the batch of poems called +in the later collected editions _Switzerland_, and completed at +last by the piece called _On the Terrace at Berne_, appeared +originally piecemeal, and with no indication of connection. The first +of its numbers is here, _To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender +Leave-taking_. It applies both the note of thought which has been +indicated, and the quality of style which had already disengaged +itself, to the commonest--the greatest--theme of poetry, but to one +which this poet had not yet tried--to Love. Let it be remembered that +the thought has the cast of a strictly pessimist quietism--that the +style aims, if it aims at any single thing, at the reproduction of the +simpler side of classicalism, at an almost prim and quakerish +_elegance_, a sort of childlike grace. There is, however, by no +means any great austerity in the tone: on the contrary, the refrain +(altered later)-- + + "Ere the parting kiss be dry, + Quick! thy tablets, Memory!"-- + +approaches the luscious. It is not easy to decide, and it is perhaps +in both senses impertinent to speculate, whether the "Marguerite" +(whose La Tour-like portrait is drawn in this piece with such relish, +and who is so philosophically left to her fate by her lover on the +Terrace at Berne later) had any live original. She seems a little more +human in some ways than most of those cloud-Junos of the poets, the +heroines of sonnet-sequence and song-string. She herself has a +distinct touch of philosophy, anticipating with nonchalant resignation +the year's severance, and with equally nonchalant anticipation the +time when + + "Some day next year I shall be, + Entering heedless, kissed by thee." + +Her wooer paints her with gusto, but scarcely with ardour; and ends +with the boding note-- + + "Yet, if little stays with man, + Ah! retain we all we can!"-- + +seeming to be at least as doubtful of his own constancy as of hers. +Nor do we meet her again in the volume. The well-known complementary +pieces which make up _Switzerland_ were either not written, or +held back. + +The inferior but interesting _Modern Sappho_, almost the poet's +only experiment in "Moore-ish" method and melody-- + + "They are gone--all is still! Foolish heart, dost thou quiver?"-- + +is a curiosity rather than anything else. The style is ill suited to +the thought; besides, Matthew Arnold, a master at times of blank +verse, and of the statelier stanza, was less often an adept at the +lighter and more rushing lyrical measures. He is infinitely more at +home in the beautiful _New Sirens_, which, for what reason it is +difficult to discover, he never reprinted till many years later, +partly at Mr Swinburne's most judicious suggestion. The scheme is +trochaic, and Mr Arnold (deriving beyond all doubt inspiration from +Keats) was happier than most poets with that charming but difficult +foot. The note is the old one of yearning rather than passionate +melancholy, applied in a new way and put most clearly, though by no +means most poetically, in the lines-- + + "Can men worship the wan features, + The sunk eyes, the wailing tone, + Of unsphered, discrowned creatures, + Souls as little godlike as their own?" + +The answer is, "No," of course; but, as some one informed Mr Arnold +many years later, we knew that before, and it is distressing to be +told it, as we are a little later, with a rhyme of "dawning" and +"morning." Yet the poem is a very beautiful one--in some ways the +equal of its author's best up to this time; at least he had yet done +nothing except the _Shakespeare_ sonnet equal to the splendid +stanza beginning-- + + "And we too, from upland valleys;" + +and the cry of the repentant sirens, punished as they had sinned-- + + "'Come,' you say, 'the hours are dreary.'" + +Yet the strong Tennysonian influence (which the poet rather +ungraciously kicked against in his criticism) shows itself here also; +and we know perfectly well that the good lines-- + + "When the first _rose_ flush was steeping + All the frore peak's _awful_ crown"-- + +are but an unconscious reminiscence of the great ones-- + + "And on the glimmering summit far withdrawn, + God made himself an _awful rose_ of dawn." + +He kept this level, though here following not Tennyson or Keats but +Shelley, in the three ambitious and elaborate lyrics, _The Voice_, _To +Fausta_, and _Stagirius_, fine things, if somehow a little suggestive +of inability on their author's part fully to meet the demands of the +forms he attempts--"the note," in short, expressed practically as well +as in theory. _Stagirius_ in particular wants but a very little to be +a perfect expression of the obstinate questionings of the century; and +yet wanting a little, it wants so much! Others, _To a Gipsy Child_ and +_The Hayswater Boat_ (Mr Arnold never reprinted this), are but faint +Wordsworthian echoes; and thus we come to _The Forsaken Merman_. + +It is, I believe, not so "correct" as it once was to admire this; but +I confess indocility to correctness, at least the correctness which +varies with fashion. _The Forsaken Merman_ is not a perfect poem--it +has _longueurs_, though it is not long; it has those inadequacies, +those incompetences of expression, which are so oddly characteristic +of its author; and his elaborate simplicity, though more at home here +than in some other places, occasionally gives a dissonance. But it is +a great poem--one by itself, one which finds and keeps its own place +in the foreordained gallery or museum, with which every true lover of +poetry is provided, though he inherits it by degrees. No one, I +suppose, will deny its pathos; I should be sorry for any one who fails +to perceive its beauty. The brief picture of the land, and the fuller +one of the sea, and that (more elaborate still) of the occupations of +the fugitive, all have their own charm. But the triumph of the piece +is in one of those metrical _coups_ which give the triumph of all the +greatest poetry, in the sudden change from the slower movements of the +earlier stanzas or strophes to the quicker sweep of the famous +conclusion-- + + "The salt tide rolls seaward, + Lights shine from the town"-- + +to + + "She left lonely for ever + The kings of the sea." + +Here the poet's poetry has come to its own. + +_In Utrumque Paratus_ sounds the note again, and has one exceedingly +fine stanza:-- + + "Thin, thin the pleasant human noises grow, + And faint the city gleams; + Rare the lone pastoral huts--marvel not thou! + The solemn peaks but to the stars are known, + But to the stars, and the cold lunar beams; + Alone the sun arises, and alone + Spring the great streams." + +But _Resignation_, the last poem in the book, goes far higher. Again, +it is too long; and, as is not the case in the _Merman_, or even in +_The Strayed Reveller_ itself, the _general_ drift of the poem, the +allegory (if it be an allegory) of the two treadings of "the self-same +road" with Fausta and so forth, is unnecessarily obscure, and does not +tempt one to spend much trouble in penetrating its obscurity. But the +splendid passage beginning-- + + "The Poet to whose mighty heart," + +and ending-- + + "His sad lucidity of soul," + +has far more interest than concerns the mere introduction, in this +last line itself, of one of the famous Arnoldian catchwords of later +years. It has far more than lies even in its repetition, with fuller +detail, of what has been called the author's main poetic note of +half-melancholy contemplation of life. It has, once more, the interest +of _poetry_--of poetical presentation, which is independent of any +subject or intention, which is capable of being adapted perhaps to +all, certainly to most, which lies in form, in sound, in metre, in +imagery, in language, in suggestion--rather than in matter, in sense, +in definite purpose or scheme. + +It is one of the heaviest indictments against the criticism of the +mid-nineteenth century that this remarkable book--the most remarkable +first book of verse that appeared between Tennyson's and Browning's in +the early thirties and _The Defence of Guenevere_ in 1858--seems to +have attracted next to no notice at all. It received neither the +ungenerous and purblind, though not wholly unjust, abuse which in the +long--run did so much good to Tennyson himself, nor the absurd and +pernicious bleatings of praise which have greeted certain novices of +late years. It seems to have been simply let alone, or else made the +subject of quite insignificant comments. + +In the same year (1849) Mr Arnold was represented in the _Examiner_ of +July 21 by a sonnet to the Hungarian nation, which he never included +in any book, and which remained peacefully in the dust-bin till a +reference in his _Letters_ quite recently set the ruthless reprinter +on its track. Except for an ending, itself not very good, the thing is +quite valueless: the author himself says to his mother, "it is not +worth much." And three years passed before he followed up his first +volume with a second, which should still more clearly have warned the +intelligent critic that here was somebody, though such a critic would +not have been guilty of undue hedging if he had professed himself +still unable to decide whether a new great poet had arisen or not. + +This volume was _Empedodes on Etna and other Poems_, [still] _By A._ +London: Fellowes, 1852. It contained two attempts--the title-piece and +_Tristram and Iseult_--much longer and more ambitious than anything +that the poet had yet done, and thirty-three smaller poems, of which +two--_Destiny_ and _Courage_--were never reprinted. It was again very +unequal--perhaps more so than the earlier volume, though it went +higher and oftener high. But the author became dissatisfied with it +very shortly after its appearance in the month of October, and +withdrew it when, as is said, less than fifty copies had been sold. + +One may perhaps not impertinently doubt whether the critical reason, +_v. infra_--in itself a just and penetrating one, as well as admirably +expressed--which, in the Preface of the 1853 collection, the poet gave +for its exclusion (save in very small part) from that volume tells the +whole truth. At any rate, I think most good judges quarrel with +_Empedodes_, not because the situation is unmanageable, but because +the poet has not managed it. The contrast, in dramatic trio, of the +world-worn and disappointed philosopher, the practical and rather +prosaic physician, and the fresh gifts and unspoilt gusto of the +youthful poet, is neither impossible nor unpromising. Perhaps, as a +situation, it is a little nearer than Mr Arnold quite knew to that of +_Paracelsus_, and it is handled with less force, if with more +clearness, than Browning's piece. But one does not know what is more +amiss with it than is amiss with most of its author's longer +pieces--namely, that neither story nor character-drawing was his +_forte_, that the dialogue is too colourless, and that though the +description is often charming, it is seldom masterly. As before, there +are jarring rhymes--"school" and "oracle," "Faun" and "scorn." +Empedocles himself is sometimes dreadfully tedious; but the part of +Callicles throughout is lavishly poetical. Not merely the show +passages--that which the Roman father, + + "Though young, intolerably severe," + +saved from banishment and retained by itself in the 1853 volume, as +_Cadmus and Harmonia_, and the beautiful lyrical close,--but the +picture of the highest wooded glen on Etna, and the Flaying of +Marsyas, are delightful things. + +_Tristram and Iseult_, with fewer good patches, has a greater +technical interest. It is only one, but it is the most remarkable, of +the places where we perceive in Mr Arnold one of the most curious of +the notes of transition-poets. They will not frankly follow another's +metrical form, and they cannot strike out a new one for themselves. In +this piece the author--most attractively to the critic, if not always +quite satisfactorily to the reader--makes for, and flits about, +half-a-dozen different forms of verse. Now it is the equivalenced +octosyllable of the Coleridgean stamp rather than of Scott's or +Byron's; now trochaic decasyllabics of a rather rococo kind; and once +at least a splendid anapæstic couplet, which catches the ear and +clings to the memory for a lifetime-- + + "What voices are these on the clear night air? + What lights in the court? What steps on the stair?" + +But the most interesting experiment by far is in the rhymed heroic, +which appears fragmentarily in the first two parts and substantively +in the third. The interest of this, which (one cannot but regret it) +Mr Arnold did not carry further, relapsing on a stiff if stately blank +verse, is not merely intrinsic, but both retrospective and +prospective. It is not the ordinary "stopped" eighteenth-century +couplet at all; nor the earlier one of Drayton and Daniel. It is the +"enjambed," very mobile, and in the right hands admirably fluent and +adaptable couplet, which William Browne and Chamberlayne practised in +the early and middle seventeenth century, which Leigh Hunt revived and +taught to Keats, and of which, later than Mr Arnold himself, Mr +William Morris was such an admirable practitioner. Its use here is +decidedly happy; and the whole of this part shows in Mr Arnold a +temporary Romantic impulse, which again we cannot but regret that he +did not obey. The picture-work of the earlier lines is the best he +ever did. The figure of Iseult with the White Hands stands out with +the right Præ-Raphaelite distinctness and charm; and the story of +Merlin and Vivian, with which, in the manner so dear to him, he +diverts the attention of the reader from the main topic at the end, is +beautifully told. For attaching quality on something like a large +scale I should put this part of _Tristram and Iseult_ much above both +_Sohrab and Rustum_ and _Balder Dead_; but the earlier parts are not +worthy of it, and the whole, like _Empedocles_, is something of a +failure, though both poems afford ample consolation in passages. + +The smaller pieces, however, could have saved the volume had their +larger companions been very much weaker. The _Memorial Verses_ on +Wordsworth (published first in _Fraser_) have taken their place once +for all. If they have not the poetical beauty in different ways of +Carew on Donne, of Dryden on Oldham, even of Tickell upon Addison, of +_Adonais_ above all, of Wordsworth's own beautiful _Effusion_ on the +group of dead poets in 1834, they do not fall far short even in this +respect. And for adequacy of meaning, not unpoetically expressed, they +are almost supreme. If Mr Arnold's own unlucky and maimed definition +of poetry as "a criticism of life" had been true, they would be poetry +in quintessence; and, as it is, they are poetry. + +Far more so is the glorious _Summer Night_, which came near the middle +of the book. There is a cheering doctrine of mystical optimism which +will have it that a sufficiently intense devotion to any ideal never +fails of at least one moment of consummate realisation and enjoyment. +Such a moment was granted to Matthew Arnold when he wrote _A Summer +Night_. Whether that rather vague life-philosophy of his, that +erection of a melancholy agnosticism _plus_ asceticism into a creed, +was anything more than a not ungraceful or undignified will-worship of +Pride, we need not here argue out. But we have seen how faithfully the +note of it rings through the verse of these years. And here it rings +not only faithfully, but almost triumphantly. The lips are touched at +last: the eyes are thoroughly opened to see what the lips shall speak: +the brain almost unconsciously frames and fills the adequate and +inevitable scheme. And, as always at these right poetic moments, the +minor felicities follow the major. The false rhymes are nowhere; the +imperfect phrases, the little sham simplicities or pedantries, hide +themselves; and the poet is free, from the splendid opening landscape +through the meditative exposition, and the fine picture of the +shipwreck, to the magnificent final invocation of the "Clearness +divine!" + +His freedom, save once, is not so unquestionably exhibited in the +remarkable group of poems--the future constituents of the +_Switzerland_ group, but still not classified under any special +head--which in the original volume chiefly follow _Empedocles_, with +the batch later called "Faded Leaves" to introduce them. It is, +perhaps, if such things were worth attempting at all, an argument for +supposing some real undercurrent of fact or feeling in them, that they +are not grouped at their first appearance, and that some of them are +perhaps designedly separated from the rest. Even the name "Marguerite" +does not appear in _A Farewell_; though nobody who marked as well as +read, could fail to connect it with the _To my Friends_ of the former +volume. We are to suppose, it would appear, that the twelvemonth has +passed, and that Marguerite's anticipation of the renewed kiss is +fulfilled in the first stanzas. But the lover's anticipation, too, is +fulfilled, though as usual not quite as he made it; he wearies of his +restless and yet unmasterful passion; he rather muses and morals in +his usual key on the "way of a man with a maid" than complains or +repines. And then we go off for a time from Marguerite, though not +exactly from Switzerland, in the famous "_Obermann_" stanzas, a +variation of the Wordsworth memorial lines, melodious, but a very +little _impotent_--the English utterance of what Sainte-Beuve, I +think, called "the discouraged generation of 1850." Now mere +discouragement, except as a passing mood, though extremely natural, is +also a little contemptible--pessimism-and-water, mere peevishness to +the "fierce indignation," mere whining compared with the great ironic +despair. As for _Consolation_, which in form as in matter strongly +resembles part of the _Strayed Reveller_, I must say, at the risk of +the charge of Philistinism, that I cannot see why most of it should +not have been printed as prose. In fact, it would be a very bold and +astonishingly ingenious person who, not knowing the original, +perceived any verse-division in this-- + + "The bleak, stern hour, whose severe moments I would annihilate, + is passed by others in warmth, light, joy." + +Nor perhaps can very much be said for some of the other things. The +sonnet afterwards entitled _The World's Triumphs_ is not strong; +_The Second Best_ is but "a chain of extremely valuable +thoughts"; _Revolution_ a conceit. _The Youth of Nature_ and +_The Youth of Man_ do but take up less musically the _threnos_ for +Wordsworth. But _Morality_ is both rhyme and poetry; _Progress_ is at +least rhyme; and _The Future_, though rhymeless again, is the best of +all Mr Arnold's waywardnesses of this kind. It is, however, in the +earlier division of the smaller poems--those which come between +_Empedocles_ and _Tristram_--that the interest is most concentrated, +and that the best thing--better as far as its subject is concerned +even than the _Summer Night_--appears. For though all does _not_ +depend upon the subject, yet of two poems equally good in other ways, +that which has the better subject will be the better. Here we have the +bulk of the "Marguerite" or _Switzerland_ poems--in other words, we +leave the windy vagaries of mental indigestion and come to the real +things--Life and Love. + +_The River_ does not name any one, though the "arch eyes" +identify Marguerite; and _Excuse_, _Indifference_, and _Too +Late_ are obviously of the company. But none of these is exactly of +the first class. We grow warmer with _On the Rhine_, containing, +among other things, the good distich-- + + "Eyes too expressive to lie blue, + Too lovely to be grey"; + +on which Mr Swinburne gave a probably unconscious _scholion_ as +well as variation in his own-- + + "Those eyes, the greenest of things blue, + The bluest of things grey." + +The intense pathos, which the poet could rarely "let himself go" +sufficiently to reach, together with the seventeenth-century touch +which in English not unfrequently rewards the self-sacrifice necessary +to scholarly poets in such abandonment, appears in _Longing_; +_The Lake_ takes up the faint thread of story gracefully enough; +and _Parting_ does the same with more importance in a combination, +sometimes very effective, of iambic couplets and anapaestic strophes, +and with a touch of direct if not exalted nature in its revelation of +that terrible thing, retrospective jealousy, in the lover. Woe to the +man who allows himself to think-- + + "To the lips! ah! of others + Those lips have been pressed, + And others, ere I was, + Were clasped to that breast," + +and who does not at once exorcise the demon with the fortunately +all-potent spell of _Bocca bacciata_, and the rest! _Absence_ and +_Destiny_ show him in the same Purgatory; and it is impossible to say +that he has actually escaped in the crowning poem of the series--the +crowning-point perhaps of his poetry, the piece beginning + + "Yes! in the sea of life enisled." + +It is neither uninteresting nor unimportant that this exquisite piece, +by a man's admiration of which (for there are some not wholly lost, +who do _not_ admire it) his soundness in the Catholic Faith of +poetry may be tested, perhaps as well as by any other, has borne more +than one or two titles, It is in the 1852 volume, _To Marguerite. In +returning a volume of the letters of Ortis_. In 1853 it became +_Isolation_, its best name; and later it took the much less +satisfactory one of _To Marguerite--continued_, being annexed to +another. + +_Isolation_ is preferable for many reasons; not least because the +actual Marguerite appears nowhere in the poem, and, except in the +opening monosyllable, can hardly be said to be even rhetorically +addressed. The poet's affection--it is scarcely passion--is there, but +in transcendence: he meditates more than he feels. And that function +of the riddle of the painful earth which Lucretius, thousands of years +ago, put in his grim _Nequicquam!_ which one of Mr Arnold's own +contemporaries formulated with less magnificence and more popularity, +but still with music and truth in _Strangers Yet_--here receives +almost its final poetical expression. The image--the islands in the +sea--is capitally projected in the first stanza; it is exquisitely +amplified in the second; the moral comes with due force in the third; +and the whole winds up with one of the great poetic phrases of the +century--one of the "jewels five [literally five!] words long" of +English verse--a phrase complete and final, with epithets in unerring +cumulation-- + + "The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea." + +_Human Life_, no ill thing in itself, reads a little weakly after +_Isolation_; but _Despondency_ is a pretty piece of melancholy, and, +with a comfortable stool, will suit a man well. In the sonnet, _When I +shall be divorced_, Mr Arnold tried the Elizabethan vein with less +success than in his Shakespeare piece; and _Self-Deception_ and _Lines +written by a Death-Bed_, with some beauty have more monotony. The +closing lines of the last are at the same time the moral of the book +and the formula of the Arnoldian "note"-- + + "Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well. + 'Tis all perhaps which man acquires, + But 'tis not what our youth desires." + +Again, we remember some one's parody-remonstrance thirty years later, +and again we may think that the condemnation which Mr Arnold himself +was soon to pronounce upon _Empedocles_ is rather disastrously +far-reaching, while even this phrase is a boomerang. Musical and +philosophical despair is one of the innumerable strings of the poetic +lyre; but 'tis not what our youth, or our age either, desires for a +monochord. + +The remarkable manifesto just referred to was not long delayed. +Whatever may have been his opinion as to the reception of the two +volumes "by A," he made up his mind, a year after the issue and +withdrawal of the second, to put forth a third, with his name, and +containing, besides a full selection from the other two, fresh +specimens of the greatest importance. In the two former there had been +no avowed "purpose"; here, not merely were the contents sifted on +principle, the important _Empedocles_ as well as some minor +things being omitted: not merely did some of the new numbers, +especially _Sohrab and Rustum_, directly and intentionally +illustrate the: poet's theories, but those theories themselves were +definitely put in a _Preface_, which is the most important +critical document issued in England for something like a generation, +and which, as prefixed by a poet to his poetry, admits no competitors +in English, except some work of Dryden's and some of Wordsworth's. + +Beginning with his reasons for discarding _Empedocles_, reasons +which he sums up in a sentence, famous, but too important not to +require citation at least in a note,[5] he passes suddenly to the +reasons which were _not_ his, and of which he makes a good +rhetorical starting-point for his main course. The bad critics of that +day had promulgated the doctrine, which they maintained till a time +within the memory of most men who have reached middle life, though the +error has since in the usual course given way to others--that "the +Poet must leave the exhausted past and draw his subjects from matters +of present import." This was the genuine +"_Times_-_v._-all-the-works-of-Thucydides" fallacy of the +mid-nineteenth century, the fine flower of Cobdenism, the heartfelt +motto of Philistia--as Philistia then was. For other times other +Philistines, and Ekron we have always with us, ready, as it was once +said, "to bestow its freedom in pinchbeck boxes" on its elect. + +This error Mr Arnold has no difficulty in laying low at once; but +unluckily his swashing blow carries him with it, and he falls headlong +into fresh error himself. "What," he asks very well, "are the eternal +objects of Poetry, among all nations and at all times?" And he +answers--equally well, though not perhaps with impregnable logical +completeness and accuracy--"They are actions, human actions; +possessing an inherent interest in themselves, and which are to be +communicated in an interesting manner by the art of the Poet." Here he +tells the truth, but not the whole truth; he should have added +"thoughts and feelings" to "actions," or he deprives Poetry of half +her realm. But he is so far sufficient against his Harapha (for at +that date there were no critical Goliaths about). Human action +_does_ possess an "inherent," an "eternal," poetical interest and +capacity in itself. That interest, that capacity, is incapable of +"exhaustion"--nay (as Mr Arnold, though with bad arguments as well as +good, urges later), it is, on the whole, a likelier subject for the +poet when it is old, because it is capable of being grasped and +presented more certainly. But the defender hastens to indulge in more +than one of those dangerous sallies from his trenches which have been +fatal to so many heroes. He proclaims that the poet cannot "make an +intrinsically inferior action equally delightful with a more excellent +one by his treatment of it," forgetting that, until the action is +presented, we do not know whether it is "inferior" or not. He asks, +"What modern poem presents personages as interesting as Achilles, +Prometheus, Clytemnestra, Dido?" unsuspicious, or perhaps reckless, of +the fact that not a few men, who admire and know the classics quite as +well as he does, will cheerfully take up his challenge at any weapons +he likes to name, and with a score of instances for his quartette. It +is true that, thanks to the ineptitude of his immediate antagonists, +he recovers himself not ill by cleverly selecting the respectable +Hermann and Dorothea, the stagy-romantic Childe Harold, the creature +called "Jocelyn," and the shadowy or scrappy personages of the +_Excursion_, to match against his four. But this is manifestly +unfair. To bring Lamartine and Wordsworth in as personage-makers is +only honest rhetorically (a kind of honesty on which Wamba or +Launcelot Gobbo shall put the gloss for us). Nay, even those to whom +Goethe and Byron are not the ideal of modern poetry may retort that +Mephistopheles--that even Faust himself--is a much more "interesting" +person than the sulky invulnerable son of Thetis, while Gulnare, +Parisina, and others are not much worse than Dido. But these are mere +details. The main purpose of the _Preface_ is to assert in the most +emphatic manner the Aristotelian (or partly Aristotelian) doctrine +that "All depends on the subject," and to connect the assertion with a +further one, of which even less proof is offered, that "the Greeks +understood this far better than we do," and that they were _also_ the +unapproachable masters of "the grand style." These positions, which, +to do Mr Arnold justice, he maintained unflinchingly to his dying day, +are supported, not exactly by argument, but by a great deal of +ingenious and audacious illustration and variation of statement, even +Shakespeare, even Keats, being arraigned for their wicked refusal to +subordinate "expression" to choice and conception of subject. The +merely Philistine modernism is cleverly set up again that it may be +easily smitten down; the necessity of Criticism, and of the study of +the ancients in order to it, is most earnestly and convincingly +championed; and the piece ends with its other famous sentence about +"the wholesome regulative laws of Poetry" and their "eternal enemy, +Caprice." + +As Mr Arnold's critical position will be considered as a whole later, +it would be waste of time to say very much more of this first +manifesto of his. It need only be observed that he might have been +already, as he often was later, besought to give some little notion of +what "the _grand style_" was; that, true and sound as is much of +the Preface, it is not a little exposed to the damaging retort, "Yes: +this is _your_ doxy, and she seems fair to you, no doubt; but so +does ours seem fair to us." Moreover, the "all-depends-on-the-subject" +doctrine here, as always, swerves from one fatal difficulty. If, in +what pleases poetically, poetical expression is always present, while +in only some of what pleases poetically is the subject at the required +height, is it not illogical to rule out, as the source of the poetic +pleasure, that which is always present in favour of that which is +sometimes absent? + +We know from the _Letters_--and we should have been able to +divine without them--that _Sohrab and Rustum_, the first in +order, the largest in bulk, and the most ambitious in scheme of the +poems which appeared for the first time in the new volume, was written +in direct exemplification of the theories of the _Preface_. The +theme is old, and though not "classical" in place, is thoroughly so in +its nature, being the story of a combat between a father and a son, +who know not each other till too late, of the generosity of the son, +of the final triumph of the father, of the _anagnorisis_, with +the resignation of the vanquished and the victor's despair. The medium +is blank verse, of a partly but not wholly Miltonic stamp, very +carefully written, and rising at the end into a really magnificent +strain, with the famous picture of "the majestic river" Oxus floating +on regardless of these human woes, to where the stars + + "Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea." + +Even here, it is true, the Devil's Advocate may ask whether this, like +the _Mycerinus_ close, that of _Empedocles_, and others, +especially one famous thing, to which we shall come presently, is not +more of a purple tail-patch, a "tag," a "curtain," than of a +legitimate and integral finale. It is certain that Mr Arnold, +following the Greeks in intention no doubt, if not quite so closely as +he intended, was very fond of these "curtains"--these little +rhetorical reconciliations and soothings for the reader. But this is +the most in place of any of them, and certainly the noblest +_tirade_ that its author has left. + +Most of the new poems here are at a level but a little lower than this +part of _Sohrab and Rustum_, while some of them are even above it +as wholes. _Philomela_ is beautiful, in spite of the obstinate +will-worship of its unrhymed Pindaric: the _Stanzas to the Memory of +Edward Quillinan_ are really pathetic, though slightly irritating +in their "sweet simplicity"; and if _Thekla's Answer_ is nothing +particular, _The Neckan_ nothing but a weaker doublet of the +_Merman, A Dream_ is noteworthy in itself, and as an outlier of +the _Marguerite_ group. Then we have three things, of which the +first is, though unequal, great at the close, while the other two rank +with the greatest things Mr Arnold ever did. These are _The Church +of Brou_, _Requiescat_, and _The Scholar-Gipsy_. + +If, as no critic ever can, the critic could thoroughly discover the +secret of the inequality of _The Church of Brou_, he might, like +the famous pedant, "put away" Mr Arnold "fully conjugated in his +desk." The poem is in theme and scheme purely Romantic, and +"nineteenth century" in its looking back to a simple and pathetic +story of the Middle Age--love, bereavement, and pious resignation. It +is divided into three parts. The first, in trochaic ballad metre, +telling the story, is one of the poet's weakest things. You may oft +see as good in Helen Maria Williams and the Delia Cruscans. The +second, describing the church where the duke and duchess sleep, in an +eight-line stanza of good fashion, is satisfactory but nothing more. +And then the third, after a manner hardly paralleled save in Crashaw's +_Flaming Heart_, breaks from twaddle and respectable verse into a +rocket-rush of heroic couplets, scattering star-showers of poetry all +over and round the bewildered reader. It is artifice rather than art, +perhaps, to lisp and drawl, that, when you _do_ speak out, your +speech may be the more effective. But hardly anything can make one +quarrel with such a piece of poetry as that beginning-- + + "So rest, for ever rest, O princely pair!" + +and ending-- + + "The rustle of the eternal rain of Love." + +On the other hand, in _Requiescat_ there is not a false note, +unless it be the dubious word "vasty" in the last line; and even that +may shelter itself under the royal mantle of Shakespeare. The poet has +here achieved what he too often fails in, the triple union of +simplicity, pathos, and (in the best sense) elegance. The dangerous +repetitions of "roses, roses," "tired, tired," &c., come all right; +and above all he has the flexibility and quiver of metre that he too +often lacks. His trisyllabic interspersions--the leap in the vein that +makes iambic verse alive and passionate--are as happy as they can be, +and the relapse into the uniform dissyllabic gives just the right +contrast. He must be [Greek: ê thêrion ê theos]--and whichever he +be, he is not to be envied--who can read _Requiescat_ for the +first or the fiftieth time without mist in the eyes and without a +catch in the voice. + +But the greatest of these--the greatest by far--is +_The Scholar-Gipsy_. I have read--and that not once only, nor +only in the works of unlettered and negligible persons--expressions of +irritation at the local Oxonian colour. This is surely amazing. One +may not be an Athenian, and never have been at Athens, yet be able to +enjoy the local colour of the _Phædrus_. One may not be an +Italian, and never have been in Italy, yet find the _Divina +Commedia_ made not teasing but infinitely vivid and agreeable by +Dante's innumerable references to his country, Florentine and general. +That some keener thrill, some nobler gust, may arise in the reading of +the poem to those who have actually watched + + "The line of festal light in Christ Church Hall" + +from above Hinksey, who know the Fyfield elm in May, and have "trailed +their fingers in the stripling Thames" at Bablockhithe,--may be +granted. But in the name of Bandusia and of Gargarus, what offence can +these things give to any worthy wight who by his ill luck has not seen +them with eyes? The objection is so apt to suggest a suspicion, as +illiberal almost as itself, that one had better not dwell on it. + +Let us hope that there are after all few to whom it has presented +itself--that most, even if they be not sons by actual matriculation of +Oxford, feel that, as of other "Cities of God," they are citizens of +her by spiritual adoption, and by the welcome accorded in all such +cities to God's children. But if the scholar had been an alumnus of +Timbuctoo, and for Cumnor and Godstow had been substituted strange +places in _-wa_ and _-ja_, I cannot think that, even to +those who are of Oxford, the intrinsic greatness of this noble poem +would be much affected, though it might lose a separable charm. For it +has everything--a sufficient scheme, a definite meaning and purpose, a +sustained and adequate command of poetical presentation, and passages +and phrases of the most exquisite beauty. Although it begins as a +pastoral, the mere traditional and conventional frippery of that form +is by no means so prominent in it as in the later (and, I think, less +consummate) companion and sequel _Thyrsis_. With hardly an +exception, the poet throughout escapes in his phraseology the two main +dangers which so constantly beset him--too great stiffness and too +great simplicity. His "Graian" personification is not overdone; his +landscape is exquisite; the stately stanza not merely sweeps, but +sways and swings, with as much grace as state. And therefore the +Arnoldian "note"--the special form of the _maladie du siècle_ +which, as we have seen, this poet chooses to celebrate--acquires for +once the full and due poetic expression and music, both symphonic and +in such special clangours as the never-to-be-too-often-quoted +distich-- + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade"-- + +which marks the highest point of the composition. + +The only part on which there may be some difference between admirers +is the final simile of the Tyrian trader. This finishes off the piece +in nineteen lines, of which the poet was--and justly--proud, which are +quite admirable by themselves, but which cannot perhaps produce any +very clear evidences of right to be where they are. No ingenuity can +work out the parallel between the "uncloudedly joyous" scholar who is +bid avoid the palsied, diseased _enfants du siècle_, and the +grave Tyrian who was indignant at the competition of the merry Greek, +and shook out more sail to seek fresh markets. It is, once more, +simply an instance of Mr Arnold's fancy for an end-note of relief, of +cheer, of pleasant contrast. On his own most rigid principles, I fear +it would have to go as a mere sewn-on patch of purple: on mine, I +welcome it as one of the most engaging passages of a poem delightful +throughout, and at its very best the equal of anything that was +written in its author's lifetime, fertile as that was in poetry. + +He himself, though he was but just over thirty when this poem +appeared, and though his life was to last for a longer period than had +passed since his birth to 1853, was to make few further contributions +to poetry itself. The reasons of this comparative sterility are +interesting, and not quite so obvious as they may appear. It is true, +indeed,--it is an arch-truth which has been too rarely +recognised,--that something like complete idleness, or at any rate +complete freedom from regular mental occupation, is necessary to the +man who is to do poetic work great in quality and in quantity at once. +The hardest occupation--and Mr Arnold's, though hard, was not exactly +that--will indeed leave a man sufficient time, so far as mere time is +concerned, to turn out as much verse as the most fertile of poets has +ever produced. But then that will scarcely do. The Muses are +feminine--and it has been observed that you cannot make up even to the +most amiable and reasonable of that sex for refusing to attend to her +at the minute when she wants _you_, by devoting even hours, even days, +when you are at leisure for _her_. To put the thing more seriously, +though perhaps not more truly, the human brain is not so constituted +that you can ride or drive or "train" from school to school, examining +as you go, for half-a-dozen or half-a-score hours a-day, or that you +can devote the same time to the weariest and dreariest of all +businesses, the reading of hundreds of all but identical answers to +the same stock questions, and yet be fresh and fertile for imaginative +composition. The nearest contradictory instances to this proposition +are those of Scott and Southey, and they are, in more ways than one or +two, very damaging instances--exceptions which, in a rather horrible +manner, do prove the rule. To less harassing, and especially less +peremptory, work than Mr Arnold's, as well as far more literary in +kind, Scott sacrificed the minor literary graces, Southey immolated +the choicer fruits of genius which he undoubtedly possessed the power +of producing; and both "died from the top downward." + +But there was something more than this. Mr Arnold's poetic ambition, +as we have seen, did not aim at very long and elaborate works. His +forte was the occasional piece--which might still suggest itself and +be completed--which, as we shall see, did sometimes suggest itself and +was completed--in the intervals, the holidays, the relaxations of his +task. And if these lucid and lucent intervals, though existent, were +so rare, their existence and their rarity together suggest that +something more than untoward circumstance is to blame for the fact +that they did not show themselves oftener. A full and constant tide of +inspiration is imperative; it will not be denied; it may kill the poet +if he cannot or will not give vent to it, but it will not be patient +of repression--quietly content to appear now and then, even on such +occasions as the deaths of a Clough and a Stanley. Nor is it against +charity or liberality, while it is in the highest degree consonant +with reason and criticism, to infer that Mr Arnold's poetic vein was +not very full-blooded, that it was patient of refusal to indulge it, +that his poetry, in nearly the happiest of his master's phrases, was +not exactly "inevitable," despite the exquisiteness of its quality on +occasion. + +It is fortunate for the biographer that this earliest part of Mr +Arnold's life is so fertile in poetry, for otherwise, in the dearth of +information, it would be a terribly barren subject. The thirty years +of life yield us hardly twenty pages of letters, of which the first, +with its already cited sketch of Laleham, is perhaps the most +interesting. At the Trafalgar Square riots of March 1848 the writer is +convinced that "the hour of the hereditary peerage and eldest sonship +and immense properties has struck"; sees "a wave of more than American +vulgarity, moral, intellectual, and social, preparing to break over +us"; and already holds that strange delusion of his that "the French +are the most civilised of European peoples." He develops this on the +strength of "the intelligence of their idea-moved classes" in a letter +to his sister; meets Emerson in April; goes to a Chartist +"convention," and has a pleasant legend for Miss Martineau that the +late Lord Houghton "refused to be sworn in as a special constable, +that he might be free to assume the post of President of the Republic +at a moment's notice." He continues to despair of his country as +hopelessly as the Tuxford waiter;[6] finds Bournemouth "a very stupid +place"--which is distressing; it is a stupid place enough now, but it +was not then: "a great moorland covered with furze and low pine coming +down to the sea" could never be that--and meets Miss Brontë, "past +thirty and plain, with expressive grey eyes though." The rest we must +imagine. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The editor glosses this variously spelt and etymologically +puzzling word "landing-stage." But unless I mistake, a "kempshott," +"campshed," or "campshedding" is not a landing-stage (though it helps +to make one) so much as a river-wall of stakes and planks, put to +guard the bank against floods, the wash of barges, &c. + +[2] _Glen Desseray and other Poems_. By John Campbell Shairp, +London, 1888. P. 218. + +[3] This statement may seem too sweeping, especially as there is +neither room nor occasion for justifying it fully. Let us only +indicate, as among the heads of such a justification, the following +sins of English criticism between 1840-1860,--the slow and reluctant +acceptance even of Tennyson, even of Thackeray; the obstinate refusal +to give Browning, even after _Bells and Pomegranates_, a fair +hearing; the recalcitrance to Carlyle among the elder, and Mr Ruskin +among the younger, innovators in prose; the rejection of a book of +erratic genius like _Lavengro_; the ignoring of work of such +combined intrinsic beauty and historic importance as _The Defence of +Guenevere_ and FitzGerald's _Omar Khayyam_. For a sort of +quintessence of literary Philistinism, see the advice of Richard Ford +(himself no Philistine) to George Borrow, in Professor Knapp's +_Life_ of the latter, i. 387. + +[4] This "undertone," as Mr Shairp calls it. + +[5] "What, then, are the situations, from the representation of which, +though accurate, no poetical enjoyment can be derived? They are those +in which the suffering finds no vent in action; in which a continuous +state of mental distress is prolonged, unrelieved by incident, hope, +or resistance; in which there is everything to be endured, nothing to +be done. In such situations there is inevitably something morbid, in +the description of them something monotonous. When they occur in +actual life, they are painful, not tragic; the representation of them +in poetry is painful also." + +[6] "The Tuxford waiter desponds exactly as you do."--_Sydney Smith +to Jeffrey_. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +LIFE FROM 1851-62--SECOND SERIES OF _POEMS_--_MEROPE_--_ON TRANSLATING +HOMER_. + + +We must now return a little and give some account of Mr Arnold's +actual life, from a period somewhat before that reached at the end of +the last chapter. The account need not be long, for the life, as has +been said, was not in the ordinary sense eventful; but it is +necessary, and can be in this chapter usefully interspersed with an +account of his work, which, for nine of the eleven years we shall +cover, was, though interesting, of much less interest than that of +those immediately before and those immediately succeeding. + +One understands at least part of the reason for the gradual drying up +of his poetic vein from a sentence of his in a letter of 1858, when he +and his wife at last took a house in Chester Square: "It will be +something to unpack one's portmanteau for the first time since I was +married, nearly seven years ago." "Something," indeed; and one's only +wonder is how he, and still more Mrs Arnold (especially as they now +had three children), could have endured the other thing so long. There +is no direct information in the _Letters_ as to the reason of +this nomadic existence, the only headquarters of which appear to have +been the residence of Mrs Arnold's father, the judge, in Eaton Place, +with flights to friends' houses and to lodgings at the places of +inspection and others, especially Dover and Brighton. And guesswork is +nowhere more unprofitable than in cases where private matters of +income, taste, and other things are concerned. But it certainly would +appear, though I have no positive information on the subject, that in +the early days of State interference with education "My Lords" managed +matters with an equally sublime disregard of the comfort of their +officials and the probable efficiency of the system.[1] + +Till I noticed the statement quoted opposite, I was quite unable to +construct any reasonable theory from such a passage as that in a +letter of December 1852[2] and from others which show us Mr Arnold in +Lincolnshire, in Shropshire, and in the eastern counties. Even with +the elucidation it seems a shockingly bad system. One doubts whether +it be worse for an inspector or for the school inspected by him, that +he should have no opportunity for food from breakfast to four o'clock, +when he staves off death by inviting disease in the shape of the +malefic bun; for him or for certain luckless pupil-teachers that, +after dinner, he should be "in for [them] till ten o'clock." With this +kind of thing when on duty, and no home when off it, a man must begin +to appreciate the Biblical passages about partridges, and the wings of +a dove, and so forth, most heartily and vividly long before seven +years are out, more particularly if he be a man so much given to +domesticity as was Matthew Arnold. + +However, it was, no doubt, not so bad as it looks. They say the rack +is not, though probably no one would care to try. There were holidays; +there was a large circle of hospitable family friends, and strangers +were only too anxious to welcome (and perhaps to propitiate) Her +Majesty's Inspector. The agreeable anomalies of the British legal +system (which, let Dickens and other grumblers say what they like, +have made many good people happy and only a few miserable) allowed Mr +Arnold for many years to act (sometimes while simultaneously +inspecting) as his father-in-law's Marshal on circuit, with varied +company and scenery, little or nothing to do, a handsome fee for doing +it, and no worse rose-leaf in the bed than heavy dinners and hot port +wine, even this being alleviated by "the perpetual haunch of venison." + +For the rest, there are some pleasing miscellaneous touches in the +letters for these years, and there is a certain liveliness of phrase +in them which disappears in the later. It is pleasant to find Mr +Arnold on his first visit to Cambridge (where, like a good +Wordsworthian, he wanted above all things to see the statue of Newton) +saying what all of us say, "I feel that the Middle Ages, and all their +poetry and impressiveness, are in Oxford and not here." In one letter +--written to his sister "K" (Mrs Forster) as his critical letters +usually are--we find three noteworthy criticisms on contemporaries, +all tinged with that slight want of cordial appreciation which +characterises his criticism of this kind throughout (except, perhaps, +in the case of Browning). The first is on Alexander Smith--it was the +time of the undue ascension of the _Life-Drama_ rocket before its +equally undue fall. "It can do me no good [an odd phrase] to be +irritated with that young man, who certainly has an extraordinary +faculty, although I think he is a phenomenon of a very dubious +character." The second, harsher but more definite, is on +_Villette_. "Why is _Villette_ disagreeable? Because the +writer's mind [it is worth remembering that he had met Charlotte +Brontë at Miss Martineau's] contains nothing but hunger, rebellion, +and rage, and therefore that is all she can in fact put into her book. +No fine writing can hide this thoroughly, and it will be fatal to her +in the long-run." The Fates were kinder: and Miss Brontë's mind did +contain something besides these ugly things. But it _was_ her +special weakness that her own thoughts and experiences were +insufficiently mingled and tempered by a wider knowledge of life and +literature. The third is on _My Novel_, which he says he has +"read with great pleasure, though Bulwer's nature is by no means a +perfect one either, which makes itself felt in his book; but his gush, +his better humour, his abundant materials, and his mellowed +constructive skill--all these are great things." One would give many +pages of the _Letters_ for that naïf admission that "gush" is "a +great thing." + +A little later (May 1853), all his spare time is being spent on a +poem, which he thinks by far the best thing he has yet done, to wit, +_Sohrab and Rustum_. And he "never felt so sure of himself or so +really and truly at ease as to criticism." He stays in barracks at the +depot of the 17th Lancers with a brother-in-law, and we regret to find +that "Death or Glory" manners do not please him. The instance is a +cornet spinning his rings on the table after dinner. "College does +civilise a boy," he ejaculates, which is true--always providing that +it is a good college. Yet, with that almost unconscious naturalness +which is particularly noticeable in him, he is much dissatisfied with +Oxford--thinks it (as we all do) terribly fallen off since _his_ +days. Perhaps the infusion of Dissenters' sons (it is just at the time +of the first Commission in 1854) may brace its flaccid sinews, though +the middle-class, he confesses, is abominably disagreeable. He sees a +good deal of this poor middle-class in his inspecting tours, and +decides elsewhere about the same time that "of all dull, stagnant, +unedifying _entourages_, that of middle-class Dissent is the +stupidest." It is sad to find that he thinks women utterly unfit for +teachers and lecturers; but Girton and Lady Margaret's may take +comfort, it is "no natural incapacity, but the fault of their +bringing-up." With regard to his second series of _Poems_ (_v. +infra_) he thinks _Balder_ will "consolidate the peculiar sort +of reputation he got by _Sohrab and Rustum_;" and a little later, +in April 1856, we have his own opinion of himself as a poet, whose +charm is "literalness and simplicity." Mr Ruskin is also treated--with +less appreciation than one could wish. + +The second series just mentioned was issued in 1855, a second edition +of the first having been called for the year before. It contained, +like its predecessor, such of his earlier work as he chose to +republish and had not yet republished, chiefly from the +_Empedocles_ volume. But _Empedocles_ itself was only +represented by some scraps, mainly grouped as _The Harp-Player on +Etna. Faded Leaves_, grouped with an addition, here appear: +_Stagirius_ is called _Desire_, and the _Stanzas in Memory +of the Author of Obermann_ now become _Obermann_ simply. Only +two absolutely new poems, a longer and a shorter, appear: the first is +_Balder Dead_, the second _Separation_, the added number of +_Faded Leaves_. This is of no great value. _Balder_ is interesting, +though not extremely good. Its subject is connected with that of +Gray's _Descent of Odin_, but handled much more fully, and in +blank-verse narrative instead of ballad form. The story, like most of +those in Norse mythology, has great capabilities; but it may be +questioned whether the Greek-Miltonic chastened style which the poet +affects is well calculated to bring them out. The death of Nanna, and +the blind fratricide Hoder, are touchingly done, and Hermod's ride to +Hela's realm is stately. But as a whole the thing is rather dim and +tame. + +Mr Arnold's election to the Professorship of Poetry at Oxford (May +1857) was a really notable event, not merely in his own career, but to +some, and no small, extent in the history of English literature during +the nineteenth century. The post is of no great value. I remember the +late Sir Francis Doyle, who was Commissioner of Customs as well as +Professor, saying to me once with a humorous melancholy, "Ah! Eau de +Cologne pays _much_ better than Poetry!" But its duties are far +from heavy, and can be adjusted pretty much as the holder pleases. And +as a position it is unique. It is, though not of extreme antiquity, +the oldest purely literary Professorship in the British Isles; and it +remained, till long after Mr Arnold's time, the only one of the kind +in the two great English Universities. In consequence partly of the +regulation that it can be held for ten years only--nominally five, +with a practically invariable re-election for another five--there is +at least the opportunity, which, since Mr Arnold's own time, has been +generally taken, of maintaining and refreshing the distinction of the +occupant of the chair. Before his time there had been a good many +undistinguished professors, but Warton and Keble, in their different +ways, must have adorned even a Chair of Poetry even in the University +of Oxford. Above all, the entire (or almost entire) freedom of action +left to the Professor should have, and in the case of Keble at least +had already had, the most stimulating effect on minds capable of +stimulation. For the Professor of Poetry at Oxford is neither, like +some Professors, bound to the chariot-wheels of examinations and +courses of set teaching, nor, like others, has he to feel that his +best, his most original, efforts can have no interest, and hardly any +meaning, for all but a small circle of experts. His field is +illimitable; his expatiation in it is practically untrammelled. It is +open to all; full of flowers and fruits that all can enjoy; and it +only depends on his own choice and his own literary and intellectual +powers whether his prelections shall take actual rank as literature +with the very best of that other literature, with the whole of which, +by custom, as an extension from poetry, he is at liberty to deal. In +the first century of the chair the custom of delivering these +Prelections in Latin had been a slight hamper--indeed to this day it +prevents the admirable work of Keble from being known as it should be +known. But this was now removed, and Mr Arnold, whose reputation (it +could hardly be called fame as yet) was already great with the knowing +ones, had not merely Oxford but the English reading world as audience. + +And he had it at a peculiarly important time, to the importance of +which he himself, in this very position, was not the least +contributor. Although the greatest writers of the second period of the +century--Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray--had, in all cases but +the last, a long, and in the two first a very long and a wonderfully +fruitful career still before them, yet the phase to which they +belonged was as a dominant phase at its height, and as a crescent was +beginning to give place to another. Within a few years--in most cases +within a few months--of Mr Arnold's installation, _The Defence of +Guenevere_ and FitzGerald's _Omar Khayyam_ heralded fresh +forms of poetry which have not been superseded yet; _The Origin of +Species_ and _Essays and Reviews_ announced changed attitudes +of thought; the death of Macaulay removed the last writer who, modern +as he was in some ways, and popular, united popularity with a +distinctly eighteenth-century tone and tradition; the death of Leigh +Hunt removed the last save Landor (always and in all things an +outsider) of the great Romantic generation of the first third of the +century; _The Ordeal of Richard Feverel_ started a new kind of +novel. + +The division which Mr Arnold, both by office and taste, was called to +lead in this newly levied army, was not far from being the most +important of all; and it was certainly that of all which required the +most thorough reformation of staff, _morale_,[3] and tactics. The +English literary criticism of 1830-1860, speaking in round numbers, is +curiously and to this day rather unintelligibly bad. There is, no +doubt, no set of matters in which it is less safe to generalise than +in matters literary, and this is by no means the only instance in +which the seemingly natural anticipation that a period of great +criticism will follow a period of great creation is falsified. But it +most certainly is falsified here. The criticism of the great Romantic +period of 1798-1830 was done for it by itself, and in some cases by +its greatest practitioners, not by its immediate successors. The +philosophic as well as poetical intuition of Coleridge; the marvellous +if capricious sympathy and the more marvellous phrase of Lamb; the +massive and masculine if not always quite trustworthy or well-governed +intellect of Hazlitt, had left no likes behind. Two survivors of this +great race, Leigh Hunt and De Quincey, were indeed critics, and no +inconsiderable ones; but the natural force of both had long been much +abated, and both had been not so much critics as essayists; the +tendency of Hunt to flowery sentimentality or familiar chat, and that +of De Quincey to incessant divergences of "rigmarole," being +formidable enemies to real critical competence. The greatest prosemen +--not novelists--of the generation now closing, Carlyle and Macaulay, +were indeed both considerable critics. But the shadow of death in the +one case, the "shadow of Frederick" in the other, had cut short their +critical careers: and presumptuous as the statement may seem, it may +be questioned whether either had been a great critic--in criticism +pure and simple--of literature. + +What is almost more important is that the _average_ literary +criticism of William IV.'s reign and of the first twenty years of her +present Majesty's was exceedingly bad. At one side, of course, the +work of men like Thackeray, who were men of genius but not critics by +profession, or in some respects by equipment, escapes this verdict. At +the other were men (very few of them indeed) like Lockhart, who had +admirable critical qualifications, but had allowed certain theories +and predilections to harden and ossify within them, and who in some +cases had not outgrown the rough uncivil ways of the great +revolutionary struggle. Between these the average critic, if not quite +so ignorant of literature as a certain proportion of the immensely +larger body of reviewers to-day, was certainly even more blind to its +general principles. Such critical work as that of Phillips, long a +favourite pen on the _Times_, and enjoying (I do not know with +how much justice) the repute of being the person whom Thackeray's +_Thunder and Small Beer_ has gibbeted for ever, excites amazement +nowadays at its bland but evidently sincere ignoring of the very +rudiments of criticism. I do not know that even in the most +interesting remains of George Brimley (who, had fate spared him, might +have grown into a great as he already was a good critic) we may not +trace something of the same hopeless amateurishness, the same +uncertainty and "wobbling" between the expression of unconnected and +unargued likes and dislikes concerning the matter of the piece, and +real critical considerations on its merits or demerits of scheme and +form. + +Not for the first time help came to us Trojans _Graia ab urbe_. +Of the general merits of French literary criticism it is possible to +entertain a somewhat lower idea than that which (in consequence of the +very circumstances with which we are now dealing) it has been for many +years fashionable in England to hold. But between 1830 and 1860 the +French had a very strong critical school indeed--a school whose +scholars and masters showed the dæmonic, or at least prophetic, +inspiration of Michelet, the milder and feebler but still inspiring +enthusiasm of Quinet, the academic clearness and discipline of +Villemain and Nisard, the Lucianic wit of Mérimée, the matchless +appreciation of Gautier, and, above all, the great new critical +idiosyncrasy of Sainte-Beuve. Between these men there were the widest +possible differences, not merely of personal taste and genius, but of +literary theory and practice. But where they all differed quite +infinitely from the lower class of English critics, and favourably +from all but the highest in their happiest moments, was in a singular +mixture of scholarship and appreciation. Even the most Romantic of +them usually tried to compare the subject with its likes in his own +and even, to some extent, in other literatures; even the most +Classical acknowledged, to some extent, that it was his duty to +appreciate, to understand, to grasp the case of the victim before +ordering him off to execution. + +In the practice of Sainte-Beuve himself, these two acknowledgments of +the duty of the critic embraced each other in the happiest union. The +want of enthusiasm which has been sometimes rather sillily charged +against him, comes in reality to no more than this--that he is too +busy in analysing, putting together again, comparing, setting things +in different lights and in different companies, to have much time for +dithyrambs. And the preference of second-to first-class subjects, +which has been also urged, is little more than the result of the fact +that these processes are more telling, more interesting, and more +needed in the case of the former than in the case of the latter. +Homer, Æschylus, Lucretius, Dante, Shakespeare will always make their +own way with all fit readers sooner or later: it is not so with +Meleager or Macrobius or Marmontel, with William Langland or with +Thomas Love Peacock. + +But Sainte-Beuve must not carry us too far from Mr Arnold, all +important as was the influence of the one upon the other. It is enough +to say that the new Professor of Poetry (who might be less +appetisingly but more correctly called a Professor of Criticism) had +long entertained the wish to attempt, and now had the means of +effecting, a reform in English criticism, partly on Sainte-Beuve's own +lines, partly on others which he had already made publicly known in +his famous Preface, and in some later critical writings, and which he +was for the rest of his life always unflinchingly to champion, +sometimes rather disastrously to extend. + +Still it has always been held that this chair is not _merely_ a +chair of criticism; and Mr Arnold lodged a poetical diploma-piece in +the shape of _Merope_. This was avowedly written as a sort of +professorial manifesto--a document to show what the only Professor of +Poetry whom England allowed herself thought, in theory and practice, +of at least dramatic poetry. It was, as was to be expected from the +author's official position and his not widespread but well-grounded +reputation, much less neglected than his earlier poetry had been. He +even tells us that "it sells well"; but the reviewers were not +pleased. The _Athenæum_ review is "a choice specimen of style," +and the _Spectator_ "of argumentation"; the _Saturday Review_ is only +"deadly prosy," but none were exactly favourable till G.H. Lewes in +_The Leader_ was "very gratifying." Private criticism was a little +kinder. The present Archbishop of Canterbury (to whom, indeed, Mr +Arnold had just given "a flaming testimonial for Rugby") read it "with +astonishment at its goodness," a sentence which, it may be observed, +is a little double-edged. Kingsley (whom the editor of the _Letters_ +good-naturedly but perhaps rather superfluously reintroduces to the +British public as "author of _The Saints' Tragedy_ and other poems") +was "very handsome." Froude, though he begs the poet to "discontinue +the line," was not uncomplimentary in other ways. His own conclusion, +from reviews and letters together, is pretty plainly put in two +sentences, that he "saw the book was not going to take as he wished," +and that "she [Merope] is more calculated to inaugurate my +professorship with dignity than to move deeply the present race of +_humans_." Let us see what "she" is actually like. + +It is rather curious that the story of Merope should have been so +tempting as, to mention nothing else, Maffei's attempt in Italian, +Voltaire's in French, and this of Mr Arnold's in English, show it to +have been to modern admirers and would-be practitioners of the +Classical drama: and the curiosity is of a tell-tale kind. For the +fact is that the _donnée_ is very much more of the Romantic than of +the Classical description, and offers much greater conveniences to the +Romantic than to the Classical practitioner. With minor variations, +the story as generally dramatised is this. Merope, the widowed queen +of the murdered Heraclid Cresphontes, has saved her youngest son from +the murderer and usurper, Polyphontes, and sent him out of the +country. When he has grown up, and has secretly returned to Messenia +to take vengeance, Polyphontes is pressing Merope to let bygones be +bygones and marry him, so as to reconcile the jarring parties in the +State. Æpytus, the son, to facilitate his reception, represents +himself as a messenger charged to bring the news of his own death; and +Merope, hearing this and believing the messenger to be also the +assassin, obtains access to the chamber where he is resting after his +journey, and is about to murder her own sleeping son when he is saved +by the inevitable _anagnorisis_. The party of Cresphontes is then +secretly roused. Æpytus, at the sacrifice which the tyrant holds in +honour of the news of his rival's death, snatches the sacrificial axe +and kills Polyphontes himself, and all ends well. + +There is, of course, a strong dramatic moment here; but I cannot think +the plot by any means an ideal one for classical tragedy. At any rate +the Aristotelian conditions--the real ones, not the fanciful +distortions of sixteenth-seventeenth century criticism--are very ill +satisfied. There is bloodshed, but there is no tragic bloodshed, as +there would have been had Merope actually killed her son. The +arresting and triumphant "grip" of the tragic misfortunes of Oedipus +and Orestes, the combination of the course of fate and the [Greek: +hamartia] of the individual, is totally absent. The wooing of Merope +by Polyphontes is not so much preposterous as insignificant, though +Voltaire, by a touch of modernism, has rescued it or half-rescued it +from this most terrible of limbos. The right triumphs, no doubt; but +who cares whether it does or not? And Mr Arnold, with the heroic +obstinacy of the doctrinaire, has done nothing to help the effect of a +scheme in itself sufficiently uninspiring to the modern reader. When +he was at work upon the piece he had "thought and hoped" that it would +have what Buddha called "the character of Fixity, that true sign of +the law." A not unfriendly critic might have pointed out, with gloomy +forebodings, that a sign of law is not necessarily a sign of poetry, +and that, as a prophet of his own had laid it down, poetry should +"transport" not "fix." At any rate, it is clear to any one who reads +the book that the author was in a mood of deliberate provocation and +exaggeration--not a favourable mood for art. The quiet grace of +Sophocles is perhaps impossible to reproduce in English, but Mr +Arnold's verse is more than quiet, it is positively tame. The dreary +_tirades_ of Polyphontes and Merope, and their snip-snap +_stichomythia_, read equally ill in English. Mr Swinburne, who has +succeeded where Mr Arnold failed, saw by a true intuition that, to +equal the effect of the Greek chorus, full English lyric with rhyme +and musical sweep was required. Mr Arnold himself, as might have been +expected from his previous experiments in unrhymed Pindarics, has +given us strophes and antistrophes most punctiliously equivalent in +syllables; but sometimes with hardly any, and never with very much, +vesture of poetry about them. It is absolutely preposterous to suppose +that the effect on a Greek ear of a strophe even of Sophocles or +Euripides, let alone the great Agamemnonian choruses, was anything +like the effect on an English ear of such wooden stuff as this:-- + + "Three brothers roved the field, + And to two did Destiny + Give the thrones that they conquer'd, + But the third, what delays him + From his unattained crown?" + +But Mr Arnold would say "This is your unchaste modern love for +passages and patches. Tell me how I managed this worthy action?" To +which the only answer can be, "Sir, the action is rather +uninteresting. Save at one moment you have not raised the interest +anywhere, and you have certainly not made the most of it there." + +The fact is, that very few even of thorough-going Arnoldians have had, +or, except merely as "fighting a prize," could have had, much to say +for _Merope_. The author pleads that he only meant "to give people a +specimen of the world created by the Greek imagination." In the first +place, one really cannot help (with the opening speech of the +_Prometheus_, and the close of the _Eumenides_, and the whole of the +_Agamemnon_ in one's mind) saying that this is rather hard on the +Greeks. And in the second place, what a curious way of setting about +the object, when luckily specimens of the actual "world" so "created," +not mere _pastiches_ and plaster models of them, are still to be had, +and of the very best! But the fact is, thirdly, that Mr Arnold, as all +men so often do, and as he not very seldom did, was clearly trying not +so much to extol one thing as to depreciate another. Probably in his +heart of hearts (which is generally a much wiser heart than that +according to which the mouth speaks and the pen writes) he knew his +failure. At any rate, he never attempted anything of the kind again, +and Merope, that queen of plaster, remains alone in his gallery, with, +as we see in other galleries, merely some _disjecta membra_--"Fragment +of an _Antigone_," "Fragment of a _Dejaneira_," grouped at her feet. +In the definitive edition indeed, she is not with these but with +_Empedocles on Etna_, a rather unlucky contrast. For _Empedocles_, if +very much less deliberately Greek than _Merope_, is very much better +poetry, and it is almost impossible that the comparison of the two +should not suggest to the reader that the attempt to be Greek is +exactly and precisely the cause of the failure to be poetical. Mr +Arnold had forgotten his master's words about the _oikeia hedone_. The +pleasure of Greek art is one thing--the pleasure of English poetry +another. + +His inaugural lecture, "On the Modern Element in Literature," was +printed many years afterwards in _Macmillan's Magazine_ for February +1869; and this long hesitation seems to have been followed by an even +longer repentance, for the piece was never included in any one of his +volumes of essays. But the ten years of his professorship are, +according to the wise parsimony of the chair, amply represented by the +two famous little books--_On Translating Homer_, which, with its +supplementary "Last Words," appeared in 1861-62, and _On the Study of +Celtic Literature_, which appeared at the termination of his tenure in +1867. It may be questioned whether he ever did anything of more +influence than these books, this being due partly to the fashion of +their publication--which, in the latter case at least, applied the +triple shock of lecture at the greatest of English literary centres, +of magazine article, and of book--and partly to the fact that they +were about subjects in which a real or a factitious, a direct or an +indirect, interest was taken by almost every one. Every educated +person knew and cared something (or at least would not have liked to +be supposed not to care and know something) about Homer; very few +educated persons knew anything about Celtic literature. But in these +later lectures he put in a more popular and provocative form than that +of his _French Eton_ (see next chapter) that mixture of literary, +political, social, and miscellaneous critique of his countrymen for +which he was thenceforward best known; and which, if it brought down +some hard knocks from his adversaries, and perhaps was not altogether +a healthy mixture for himself, could at least not be charged by any +reasonable person with lack of piquancy and actuality. + +Both books are, and, despite some drawbacks of personal and ephemeral +allusion, always will be, interesting; and both had, perhaps even more +than the _Essays in Criticism_ themselves, a stimulating effect +upon English men of letters which can hardly be overvalued. It may +indeed be said without paradox that they owe not a little of their +value to their faults; but they owe a great deal more to their merits. + +The faults are apparent enough even in the first series, which falls +to be noticed in this chapter; yet it is really difficult to say when +a more important book of English criticism had appeared. Dryden's +_Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, Johnson's _Lives_ at their frequent best, +Coleridge's _Biographia Literaria_, are greater things; but hardly the +best of them was in its day more "important for _us_." To read even +the best of that immediately preceding criticism of which something +has been said above--nay, even to recur to Coleridge and Hazlitt and +Lamb--and then to take up _On Translating Homer_, is to pass to a +critic with a far fuller equipment, with a new method, with a style of +his own, and with an almost entirely novel conception of the whole art +of criticism. For the first time (even Coleridge with much wider +reading had not co-ordinated it from this point of view) we find the +two great ancient and the three or four great modern literatures of +Europe taken synoptically, used to illustrate and explain each other, +to point out each other's defects and throw up each other's merits. +Almost for the first time, too, we have ancient literature treated +more or less like modern--neither from the merely philological point +of view, nor with reference to the stock platitudes and traditions +about it. The critic is not afraid of doctrines and general +principles--in fact, he is rather too fond of them--but his object is +anything rather than mere arid deduction and codification. He has the +aesthetic sense as thoroughly as Hazlitt and Lamb, but without the +wilfulness of either, or at least with a different kind of wilfulness +from that of either. Finally, in one of the numerous ways in which he +shows that his subject is alive to him, he mixes it up with the +queerest personalities and sudden zigzags, with all manner of +digressions and side-flings. And last of all, he has that new style of +which we spoke--a style by no means devoid of affectation and even +trick, threatening, to experienced eyes, the disease of mannerism, but +attractive in its very provocations, almost wholly original, and +calculated, at least while it retains its freshness, to drive what is +said home into the reader's mind and to stick it there. + +The faults, we said, both critical and non-critical, are certainly not +lacking; and if they were not partly excused by the author's avowedly +militant position, might seem sometimes rather grave. Whatever may +have been the want of taste, and even the want of sense, in the +translation of F. W. Newman, it is almost sufficient to say that they +were neither greater nor less than might have been expected from a +person who, if the most scholarly of eccentrics, was also the most +eccentric even of English scholars. It is difficult not to think that +Mr Arnold makes too much of them and refers too frequently to them. +Such "iteration" is literally "damnable": it must be condemned as +unfair, out of place, out of taste, and even not distantly approaching +that lack of urbanity with which Mr Arnold was never tired of +reproaching his countrymen. Another translator, Mr Wright, was indeed +needlessly sensitive to Mr Arnold's strictures; but these strictures +themselves were needlessly severe. It is all very well for a reviewer, +especially if he be young and anonymous, to tell a living writer that +his book has "no reason for existing"; but chairs of literature are +not maintained by universities that their occupants may, in relation +to living persons, exercise the functions of young anonymous +reviewers. It may indeed be doubted whether these occupants should, +except in the most guarded way, touch living persons at all. + +Critically too, as well as from the point of view of manners, the +_Lectures on Translating Homer_ are open to not a few criticisms. +In the first place, the assumptions are enormous, and, in some cases +at least, demonstrably baseless. One of Mr Arnold's strongest points, +for instance, not merely against Mr Newman but against Homeric +translators generally, is concerned with the renderings of the Homeric +compound adjectives, especially the stock ones--_koruthaiolos_, +_merops_, and the rest. The originals, he is never weary of repeating, +did not strike a Greek and do not strike a Greek scholar as out of the +way; the English equivalents do so strike an English reader. Now as to +the Greeks themselves, we know nothing: they have left us no positive +information on the subject. But if (which is no doubt at least partly +true) _koruthaiolos_ and _dolichoskion_ do not strike us, who have +been familiar with Greek almost as long as we can remember, as out of +the way, is that an argument? Most of us, I suppose, at about nine or +ten years old, some no doubt a little or a good deal earlier, learnt +these words as part of the ordinary Greek that was presented to us, +just as much as _kai_ and _ara_; but if we had learnt Greek as we +learn English, beginning with quite ordinary words, would it be so? I +think not; nor would it be so if people began Greek at a later and +more critical stage of their education. + +It is also true that the book is full of that exceedingly arbitrary +and unproved assertion, of that rather fanciful terminology, of those +sometimes questionable æsthetic _obiter dicta_, of which, from +first to last, Mr Arnold was so prolific. When he talks about the +mysterious "grand style," and tells us that Milton can never be +affected, we murmur, "_De gustibus!_" and add mentally, "Though +Milton is the greatest of affected writers, Milton is, after +_Comus_ at least, never anything else!" When he tells us again +that at that moment (1861) "English literature as a living +intellectual instrument ranks after the literatures of France and +Germany," we remember that at the time France possessed perhaps only +one writer, Victor Hugo, and Germany absolutely none, of the calibre +of a dozen Englishmen--Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray, +Dickens, and not a few others, from Landor to Mr Ruskin; that Germany, +further, had scarcely one, though France had more than one or two, +great writers of the second class: and we say, "Either your 'living +intellectual instrument' is a juggle of words, or you really are +neglecting fact." Many--very many--similar retorts are possible; and +the most hopeless variance of all must come when we arrive at Mr +Arnold's championship of that ungainly and sterile mule the English +hexameter, and when we review the specimens of the animal that he +turns out from his own stables for our inspection. + +But it matters not. For all this, and very much more than all this, +which may be passed over as unnecessary or improper, nothing like the +book had, for positive critical quality, and still more for germinal +influence, been seen by its generation, and nothing of the same +quality and influence has been seen for more than a technical +generation since. It would of course be uncritical in the last degree +to take the change in English criticism which followed as wholly and +directly Mr Arnold's work. He was not even the voice crying in the +wilderness: only one of many voices in a land ready at least to be +eared and pathed. But he was the earliest of such voices, the +clearest, most original, most potent; and a great deal of what +followed was directly due to him. + +The non-literary events of his life during this period were +sufficiently varied if not very momentous. We have mentioned the +domiciling in Chester Square, which took place in February 1858, +perhaps on the strength of the additional income from Oxford. In the +late summer of that year he went alone to Switzerland, and next +spring, shortly after the New Year, received, to his very great joy, a +roving commission to France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Piedmont, to +report on elementary education. "Foreign life," he says, with that +perfect naturalness which makes the charm of his letters, "is still to +me perfectly delightful and liberating in the last degree." And he was +duly "presented" at home, in order that he might be presentable +abroad. But the first days of the actual sojourn (as we have them +recorded in a letter to his mother of April 14) were saddened by that +death of his brother William, which he has enshrined in verse. + +He had, however, plenty to distract him. France was all astir with the +Austrian war, and it is impossible to read his expressions of +half-awed admiration of French military and other greatness without +rather mischievous amusement. He visited the Morbihan, which struck +him as it must strike every one. Here he is pathetic over a promising +but not performing dinner at Auray--"soup, Carnac oysters, shrimps, +_fricandeau_ of veal, breast of veal, and asparagus;" but +"everything so detestable" that his dinner was bread and cheese. He +must have been unlucky: the little Breton inns, at any rate a few +years later than this, used, it is true, to be dirty to an extent +appalling to an Englishman; but their provender was usually far from +contemptible. There is more sense of Breton scenery in another letter +a little later. Both here and, presently, in Gascony he notes truly +enough "the incredible degree to which the Revolution has cleared the +feudal ages out of the minds of the country people"; but if he +reflected on the bad national effect of this breach with the past, he +does not say so. By June 12 he is in Holland, and does not like +it--weather, language, &c., all English in the worst sense, apparently +without the Norman and Latin element which just saves us. And though +he was a very short time in the Netherlands, he has to relieve his +feelings by more abuse of them when he gets back to Paris--in fact, he +speaks of Holland exactly as the typical Frenchman speaks of England, +and is accordingly very funny to read. The two things that make +Holland most interesting, history and art, were exactly those that +appealed to Mr Arnold least. Then after a refreshing bath of Paris, he +goes to Strasbourg, and Time--Time the Humourist as well as the +Avenger and Consoler--makes him commit himself dreadfully. He "thinks +there cannot be a moment's doubt" that the French will beat the +Prussians even far more completely and rapidly than they are beating +the Austrians. Lord Cowley, it seems, "entirely shared" his conviction +that "the French will always beat any number of Germans who come into +the field against them, and never be beaten by any one but the +English." Let us hope that Jove, when he whistled half this prophecy +down the wind, affirmed the rest of it! Switzerland comes next; and he +is beginning to want very much to be back in England, partly "for the +children, but partly also from affection for that foolish old +country"--which paternal and patriotic desire was granted about the +end of the month, though only for a short time, during which he wrote +a pamphlet on the Italian question. Then "M. le Professeur Docteur +Arnold, Directeur Général de toutes les Écoles de la Grande Bretagne," +returned to France for a time, saw Mérimée and George Sand and Renan, +as well as a good deal of Sainte-Beuve, and was back again for good in +the foolish old country at the end of the month. + +In the early winter of 1859-60 we find him a volunteer, commenting not +too happily on "the hideous English toadyism which invests lords and +great people with commands," a remark which seems to clench the +inference that he had not appreciated the effect of the Revolution +upon France. For nearly three parts of 1860 we have not a single +letter, except one in January pleasantly referring to his youngest +child "in black velvet and red-and-white tartan, looking such a duck +that it was hard to take one's eyes off him."[4] This letter, by the +way, ends with an odd admission from the author of the remark quoted +just now. He says of the Americans, "It seems as if few stocks could +be trusted to grow up properly without having a priesthood and an +aristocracy to act as their schoolmasters at some time or other of +their national existence." This is a confession. The gap, however, is +partly atoned for by a very pleasant batch in September from Viel Salm +in the Ardennes, where the whole family spent a short time, and where +the Director-General of all the schools in Great Britain had splendid +fishing, the hapless Ardennes trout being only accustomed to nets. + +Then the interest returns to literature, and the lectures on +translating Homer, and Tennyson's "deficiency in intellectual power," +and Mr Arnold's own interest in the Middle Ages, which may surprise +some folk. It seems that he has "a strong sense of the irrationality +of that period" and of "the utter folly of those who take it seriously +and play at restoring it." Still it has "poetically the greatest charm +and refreshment for me." One may perhaps be permitted to doubt whether +you can get much real poetical refreshment out of a thing which is +irrational and which you don't take seriously: the practice seems to +be not unlike that mediæval one of keeping fools for your delectation. +Nor can the observations on Tennyson be said to be quite just or quite +pleasant. But every age and every individual is unjust to his or its +immediate predecessor--a saying dangerous and double-edged, but true +for all that. Then he "entangles himself in the study of accents"--it +would be difficult to find any adventurer who has _not_ entangled +himself in that study--and groans over "a frightful parcel of grammar +papers," which he only just "manages in time," apparently on the very +unwholesome principle (though this was not the same batch) of doing +twenty before going to bed when he comes in from a dinner-party at +eleven o'clock. Colds, Brighton, praise from Sainte-Beuve, critical +attacks in the English papers, and (not quite unprovoked) from F.W. +Newman, reflections on the Age of Wisdom (forty), and a meeting with +Thackeray, the Laureate of that age, diversify the history agreeably. +Then we come to a dead, and now rather more than dull, controversy +over the Revised Code, of which we need not say much. Official +etiquette on such matters, especially in England, is very loose, +though he himself seems to have at one time thought it distantly +possible, though not likely, that he would be ejected for the part he +took. And his first five years' tenure of the Oxford Chair ends with +the delivery of the Creweian oration, as to the composition of which +he consoles himself (having heard both from the Vice-Chancellor and +others that there was to be "a great row") by reflecting that "it +doesn't much matter what he writes, as he shall not be heard." I do +not know whether the prediction was justified; but if so, the same +fate had, according to tradition, befallen his Newdigate some twenty +years earlier. In neither case can the "row" have had any personal +reference. Though his lectures were never largely attended by +undergraduates, he was always popular in Oxford. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The mystery is partly explained, in a fashion of no little +biographical importance, by the statement in Mr Arnold's first general +report for the year 1852, that his district included Lincoln, +Nottingham, Derby, Stafford, Salop, Hereford, Worcester, Warwick, +Leicester, Rutland and Northants, Gloucester, Monmouth, _all_ +South Wales, most of North Wales, and some schools in the East and +West Ridings. This apparently impossible range had its monstrosity +reduced by the limitation of his inspectorship to Nonconformist +schools of other denominations than the Roman Catholic, especially +Wesleyan and the then powerful "British" schools. As the schools +multiplied the district was reduced, and at last he had Westminster +only; but the exclusion of Anglican and Roman Catholic schools +remained till 1870. And it is impossible not to connect the somewhat +exaggerated place which the Dissenters hold in his social and +political theories (as well as perhaps some of his views about the +"Philistine") with these associations of his. We must never forget +that for nearly twenty years Mr Arnold worked in the shadow, not of +Barchester Towers, but of Salem Chapel. + +[2] "I have papers sent me to look over which will give me to the 20th +of January in _London_ without moving, then for a week to +_Huntingdonshire_ schools, then for another to London, ...and +then _Birmingham_ for a month." + +[3] There are persons who would spell this _moral_; but I am not +writing French, and in English the practice of good writers from +Chesterfield downwards is my authority. + +[4] The letters are full of pleasant child-worship, the best passage +of all being perhaps the dialogue between Tom and "Budge," at vol. i. +p. 56, with the five-year-old cynicism of the elder's reply, "Oh this +is _false_ Budge, this is all _false_!" to his infant brother's +protestations of affection. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_A FRENCH ETON_--_ESSAYS IN CRITICISM_--_CELTIC LITERATURE_--_NEW +POEMS_--LIFE FROM 1862 TO 1867. + + +The period of Mr Arnold's second tenure of the Poetry Chair, from 1862 +to 1867, was much more fertile in remarkable books than that of his +first. It was during this time that he established himself at once as +the leader of English critics by his _Essays in Criticism_ (some +of which had first taken form as Oxford Lectures) and that he made his +last appearance with a considerable collection of _New Poems_. It +was during this, or immediately after its expiration, that he issued +his second collected book of lectures on _The Study of Celtic +Literature_; and it was then that he put in more popular, though +still in not extremely popular, forms the results of his +investigations into Continental education. It was during this time +also that his thoughts took the somewhat unfortunate twist towards the +mission of reforming his country, not merely in matters literary, +where he was excellently qualified for the apostolate, but in the much +more dubiously warranted function of political, "sociological," and +above all, ecclesiastical or anti-ecclesiastical gospeller. With all +these things we must now deal. + +No one of Mr Arnold's books is more important, or more useful in +studying the evolution of his thought and style, than _A French +Eton_ (1864). Although he was advancing in middle-life when it was +written, and had evidently, as the phrase goes, "made up his bundle of +prejudices," he had not written, or at least published, very much +prose; his mannerisms had not hardened. And above all, he was but just +catching the public ear, and so was not tempted to assume the part of +Chesterfield-Socrates, which he played later, to the diversion of +some, to the real improvement of many, but a little to his own +disaster. He was very thoroughly acquainted with the facts of his +subject, which was not always the case later; and though his +assumptions--the insensibility of aristocracies to ideas, the +superiority of the French to the English in this respect, the failure +of the Anglican Church, and so forth--are already as questionable as +they are confident, he puts them with a certain modesty, a certain +[Greek: epieikeia], which was perhaps not always so obvious when he +came to preach that quality itself later. About the gist of the book +it is not necessary to say very much. He practically admits the +obvious and unanswerable objection that his _French Eton_, +whether we look for it at Toulouse or look for it at Sorèze, is very +French, but not at all Eton. He does not really attempt to meet the +more dangerous though less epigrammatic demurrer, "Do you _want_ +schools to turn out products of this sort?" It was only indirectly his +fault, but it was a more or less direct consequence of his arguments, +that a process of making ducks and drakes of English grammar-school +endowments began, and was (chiefly in the "seventies") carried on, +with results, the mischievousness of which apparently has been known +and noted only by experts, and which they have chiefly kept to +themselves. + +All this is already ancient history, and history not ancient enough to +be venerable. But the book as a book, and also as a document in the +case, has, and always will have, interest. "The cries and catchwords" +which Mr Arnold denounces, as men so often do denounce their own most +besetting temptations, have not yet quite mastered him; but they have +made a lodgment. The revolt--in itself quite justifiable, and even +admirable--from the complacent acceptance of English middle-class +thought, English post-Reform-Bill politics, English mid-century taste +and ethics and philosophy,--from everything, in short, of which +Macaulay was the equally accepted and representative eulogist and +exponent, is conspicuous. It is from foreign and almost hostile +sources that we must expect help. The State is to resume, or to +initiate, its guidance of a very large part, if not of the whole, of +the matters which popular thought, Liberal and Conservative alike, +then assigned to individual action or private combination. We have not +yet Barbarians, Philistines, and Populace labelled with their tickets +and furnished with their descriptions; but the three classes are +already sharply separated in Mr Arnold's mind, and we can see that +only in the Philistine who burns Dagon, and accepts circumcision and +culture fully, is there to be any salvation. The anti-clerical and +anti-theological animus is already strong; the attitude _dantis jura +Catonis_ is arranged; the _jura_ themselves, if not actually +graven and tabulated, can be seen coming with very little difficulty. +Above all, the singing-robes are pretty clearly laid aside; the +Scholar-Gipsy exercises no further spell; we have turned to prose and +(as we can best manage it) sense. + +But _A French Eton_ is perhaps most interesting for its style. In +this respect it marks a stage, and a distinct one, between the +_Preface_ of 1853 and the later and better known works. More of a +_concio ad vulgus_ than the former, it shows a pretty obvious +endeavour to soften and popularise, without unduly vulgarising, the +academic tone of the earlier work. And it does not yet display those +"mincing graces" which were sometimes attributed (according to a very +friendly and most competent critic, "harshly, but justly") to the +later. The mannerisms, indeed, like the dogmatisms, are pretty clearly +imminent. Slightly exotic vocabulary--"habitude" "repartition," for +"habit," "distribution"--makes its appearance. That abhorrence of the +conjunction, which made Mr Arnold later give us rows of adjectives and +substantives, with never an "and" to string them together, is here. +But no one of these tricks, nor any other, is present in excess: there +is nothing that can justly be called falsetto; and in especial, though +some names of merely ephemeral interest are in evidence--Baines, +Roebuck, Miall, &c., Mr Arnold's well-known substitutes for Cleon and +Cinesias--there is nothing like the torrent of personal allusion in +_Friendship's Garland_. "Bottles" and his company are not yet +with us; the dose of _persiflage_ is rigorously kept down; the +author has not reached the stage when he seemed to hold sincerely the +principle so wickedly put by Mr Lewis Carroll, that + + "What I tell you three times is true," + +and that the truth could be made truest by making the three thirty. + +The result is that he never wrote better. A little of the dignity of +his earlier manner--when he simply followed that admirable older +Oxford style, of which Newman was the greatest master and the last--is +gone, but it has taken some stiffness with it. Some--indeed a good +deal--of the piquancy of the later is not yet apparent; but its +absence implies, and is more than compensated by, the concomitant +absence of those airs and flings, those interludes as of an academic +jester, in cap and gown and liripipe instead of motley, which have +been charged, not quite unjustly, on the Arnold that we know best. +There is hardly in English a better example of the blending and +conciliation of the two modes of argumentative writing referred to in +Bishop Kurd's acute observation, that if your first object is to +convince, you cannot use a style too soft and insinuating; if you want +to confute, the rougher and more unsparing the better. And the +description and characterisation are quite excellent. + +Between _A French Eton_ and the second collection of Oxford +Lectures came, in 1865, the famous _Essays in Criticism_, the +first full and varied, and perhaps always the best, expression and +illustration of the author's critical attitude, the detailed manifesto +and exemplar of the new critical method, and so one of the +epoch-making books of the later nineteenth century in English. It +consisted, in the first edition, of a _Preface_ (afterwards +somewhat altered and toned down) and of nine essays (afterwards to be +made ten by the addition of _A Persian Passion-Play_). The two +first of these were general, on _The Function of Criticism at the +Present Time_ and _The Literary Influence of Academies_, while +the other seven dealt respectively with the two Guérins, Heine, +_Pagan and Mediæval Religious Sentiment_, Joubert, Spinoza, and +Marcus Aurelius. I am afraid it must be taken as only too strong a +confirmation of Mr Arnold's own belief as to the indifference of the +English people to criticism that no second edition of this book was +called for till four years were past, no third for ten, and no fourth +for nearly twenty. + +Yet, to any one whom the gods have made in the very slightest degree +critical, it is one of the most fascinating (if sometimes also one of +the most provoking) of books; and the fascination and provocation +should surely have been felt even by others. As always with the +author, there is nothing easier than to pick holes in it: in fact, on +his own principles, one is simply bound to pick holes. He evidently +enjoyed himself very much in the _Preface:_ but it may be doubted +whether the severe Goddess of Taste can have altogether smiled on his +enjoyment. He is superciliously bland to the unlucky and no doubt +rather unwise Mr Wright (_v. supra_): he tells the _Guardian_ in a +periphrasis that it is dull, and "Presbyter Anglicanus" that he is +born of Hyrcanian tigers, and the editor of the _Saturday Review_ that +he is a late and embarrassed convert to the Philistines. He introduces +not merely Mr Spurgeon, a Philistine of some substance and memory, but +hapless forgotten shadows like "Mr Clay," "Mr Diffanger," "Inspector +Tanner," "Professor Pepper" to the contempt of the world. And then, +when we are beginning to find all this laughter rather +"thorn-crackling" and a little forced, the thing ends with the famous +and magnificent _epiphonema_ (as they would have said in the old days) +to Oxford, which must for ever conciliate all sons of hers and all +gracious outsiders to its author, just as it turns generation after +generation of her enemies sick with an agonised grin. + +So, again, one may marvel, and almost grow angry, at the whim which +made Mr Arnold waste two whole essays on an amiable and interesting +person like Eugénie de Guérin and a mere nobody like her brother. They +are very pretty essays in themselves; but then (as Mr Arnold has +taught us), "all depends on the subject," and the subjects here are so +exceedingly unimportant! Besides, as he himself almost openly +confessed, and as everybody admits now, he really did not understand +French poetry at all. When we come to "Keats and Guérin," there is +nothing for it but to take refuge in Byron's + + "_Such_ names coupled!" + +and pass with averted face. Seventy-two mortal pages of Matthew +Arnold's, at his very best time, wasted on a brother and sister who +happened to be taken up by Sainte-Beuve! + +But the rest of the book is entirely free from liability to any such +criticism as this. To some criticism--even to a good deal--it is +beyond doubt exposed. The first and most famous paper--the general +manifesto, as the earlier _Preface_ to the _Poems_ is the +special one, of its author's literary creed--on _The Function of +Criticism at the Present Time_ must indeed underlie much the same +objections as those that have been made to the introduction. Here is +the celebrated passage about "Wragg is in custody," the text of which, +though no doubt painful in subject and inurbane in phraseology, is +really a rather slender basis on which to draw up an indictment +against a nation. Here is the astounding--the, if serious, almost +preternatural--statement that "not very much of current English +literature comes into this best that is known and thought in the +world. Not very much I fear: certainly less than of the current +literature of France and Germany." And this was 1865, when the Germans +had had no great poet but Heine for a generation, nor any great poets +but Goethe and Heine for some five hundred years, no great +prose-writer but Heine (unless you call Goethe one), and were not +going to have any! It was 1865, when all the great French writers, +themselves of but some thirty years' standing, were dying off, not to +be succeeded! 1865, when for seventy years England had not lacked, and +for nearly thirty more was not to lack, poets and prose-writers of the +first order by the dozen and almost the score! Here, too, is the +marvellous companion-statement that in the England of the first +quarter of the century was "no national glow of life." It was the +chill of death, I suppose, which made the nation fasten on the throat +of the world and choke it into submission during a twenty years' +struggle. + +But these things are only Mr Arnold's way. I have never been able to +satisfy myself whether they were deliberate paradoxes, or sincere and +rather pathetic paralogisms. For instance, did he really think that +the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, an organ of "dukes, dunces, and +_dévotes_," as it used to be called even in those days by the +wicked knowing ones, a nursing mother of Academies certainly, and a +most respectable periodical in all ways--that this good _Revue_ +actually "had for its main function to understand and utter the best +that is known and thought in the world," absolutely existed as an +organ for "the free play of mind"? I should be disposed to think that +the truer explanation of such things is that they were neither quite +paradoxes nor quite paralogisms; but the offspring of an innocent +willingness to believe what he wished, and of an almost equally +innocent desire to provoke the adversary. Unless (as unluckily they +sometimes are) they be taken at the foot of the letter, they can do no +harm, and their very piquancy helps the rest to do a great deal of +good. + +For there can be no doubt that in the main contention of his +manifesto, as of his book, Mr Arnold was absolutely right. It was true +that England, save for spasmodic and very partial appearances of it in +a few of her great men of letters--Ben Jonson, Dryden, Addison, +Johnson--had been wonderfully deficient in criticism up to the end of +the eighteenth century; and that though in the early nineteenth she +had produced one great philosophical critic, another even greater on +the purely literary side, and a third of unique appreciative sympathy, +in Coleridge, Hazlitt, and Lamb, she had not followed these up, and +had, even in them, shown certain critical limitations. It was true +that though the Germans had little and the French nothing to teach us +in range, both had much to teach us in thoroughness, method, +_style_ of criticism. And it was truest of all (though Mr Arnold, +who did not like the historic estimate, would have admitted this with +a certain grudge) that the time imperatively demanded a thorough +"stock-taking" of our own literature in the light and with the help of +others. + +Let _palma_--let the _maxima palma_--of criticism be given +to him in that he first fought for the creed of this literary +orthodoxy, and first exemplified (with whatever admixture of +will-worship of his own, with whatever quaint rites and ceremonies) +the carrying out of the cult. It is possible that his direct influence +may have been exaggerated; one of the most necessary, though not of +the most grateful, businesses of the literary historian is to point +out that with rare exceptions, and those almost wholly on the poetic +side, great men of letters rather show in a general, early, and +original fashion a common tendency than definitely lead an otherwise +sluggish multitude to the promised land. But no investigation has +deprived, or is at all likely to deprive, the _Essays in +Criticism_ of their place as an epoch-making book, as the manual of +a new and often independent, but, on the whole, like-minded, critical +movement in England. + +Nor can the blow of the first essay be said to be ill followed up in +the second, the almost equally famous (perhaps the _more_ famous) +_Influence of Academies_. Of course here also, here as always, +you may make reservations. It is a very strong argument, an argument +stronger than any of Mr Arnold's, that the institutions of a nation, +if they are to last, if they are to do any good, must be in accordance +with the spirit of the nation; that if the French Academy has been +beneficial, it is because the French spirit is academic; and that if +(as we may fear, or hope, or believe, according to our different +principles) the English spirit is unacademic, an Academy would +probably be impotent and perhaps ridiculous in England. But we can +allow for this; and when we have allowed for it, once more Mr Arnold's +warnings are warnings on the right side, true, urgent, beneficial. +There are still the minor difficulties. Even at the time, much less as +was known of France in England then than now, there were those who +opened their eyes first and then rubbed them at the assertion that +"openness of mind and flexibility of intelligence" were the +characteristics of the French people. But once more also, no matter! +The central drift is right, and the central drift carries many +excellent things with it, and may be allowed to wash away the less +excellent. Mr Arnold is right on the average qualities of French +prose; whether he is right about the "provinciality" of Jeremy Taylor +as compared to Bossuet or not, he is right about "critical freaks," +though, by the way--but it is perhaps unnecessary to finish that +sentence. He is right about the style of Mr Palgrave and right about +the style of Mr Kinglake; and I do not know that I feel more +especially bound to pronounce him wrong about the ideas of Lord +Macaulay. But had he been as wrong in all these things as he was +right, the central drift would still be inestimable--the drift of +censure and contrast applied to English eccentricity, the argument +that this eccentricity, if it is not very good, is but too likely to +be very bad. + +Yet it is perhaps in the illustrative essays that the author shows at +his best. Even in the Guérin pieces, annoyance at the waste of +first-rate power on tenth-rate people need not wholly blind us to the +grace of the exposition and to the charming eulogy of "distinction" at +the end. That, if Mr Arnold had known a little more about that French +Romantic School which he despised, he would have hardly assigned this +distinction to Maurice; and that Eugénie, though undoubtedly a "fair +soul," was in this not distinguished from hundreds and thousands of +other women, need not matter very much after all. And with the rest +there need be few allowances, or only amicable ones. One may doubt +whether Heine's charm is not mainly due to the very lawlessness, the +very contempt of "subject," the very quips and cranks and caprices +that Mr Arnold so sternly bans. But who shall deny the excellence and +the exquisiteness of this, the first English tribute of any real worth +to the greatest of German poets, to one of the great poets of the +world, to the poet who with Tennyson and Hugo completes the +representative trinity of European poets of the nineteenth century +proper? Very seldom (his applause of Gray, the only other instance, is +not quite on a par with this) does the critic so nearly approach +enthusiasm--not merely _engouement_ on the one side or serene +approval on the other. No matter that he pretends to admire Heine for +his "modern spirit" (why, _O Macarée_, as his friend Maurice de +Guérin might have said, should a modern spirit be better than an +ancient one, or what is either before the Eternal?) instead of for +what has been, conceitedly it may be, called the "tear-dew and +star-fire and rainbow-gold" of his phrase and verse. He felt this +magic at any rate. No matter that he applies the wrong comparison +instead of the right one, and depreciates French in order to exalt +German, instead of thanking Apollo for these two good different +things. The root of the matter is the right root, a discriminating +enthusiasm: and the flower of the matter is one of the most charming +critical essays in English. It is good, no doubt, to have made up +one's mind about Heine before reading Mr Arnold; but one almost envies +those who were led to that enchanted garden by so delightful an +interpreter. + +Almost equally delightful, and with no touch of the sadness which must +always blend with any treatment of Heine, is the next essay, the pet, +I believe, of some very excellent judges, on "Pagan and Mediæval +Religious Sentiment," with its notable translation of Theocritus and +its contrast with St Francis. One feels, indeed, that Mr Arnold was +not quite so well equipped with knowledge on the one side as on the +other; indeed, he never was well read in mediæval literature. But his +thesis, as a thesis, is capable of defence; in the sternest times of +military etiquette he could not have been put to death on the charge +of holding out an untenable post; and he puts the different sides with +incomparable skill and charm. Mr Arnold glosses Pagan morals rather +doubtfully, but so skilfully; he rumples and blackens mediæval life +more than rather unfairly, but with such a light and masterly touch! + +Different again, inferior perhaps, but certainly not in any hostile +sense inferior, is the "Joubert." It has been the fashion with some to +join this essay to the Guérin pieces as an instance of some +incorrigible twist in Mr Arnold's French estimates, of some inability +to admire the right things, even when he did admire I cannot agree +with them. Joubert, of course, has his own shortcomings as a +_pensée_-writer. He is _rococo_ beside La Bruyére, dilettante beside +La Rochefoucauld, shallow beside Pascal. There is at times, even if +you take him by himself, and without comparison, something thin and +amateurish and conventional about him. But this is by no means always +or very often the case; and his merits, very great in themselves, were +even greater for Mr Arnold's general purpose. + +That subtle and sensitive genius did not go wrong when it selected +Joubert as an eminent example of those gifts of the French mind which +most commended themselves to itself--an exquisite _justesse_, an +alertness of spirit not shaking off rule and measure, above all, a +consummate propriety in the true and best, not the limited sense of +the word. Nor is it difficult to observe in the shy philosopher a +temperament which must have commended itself to Mr Arnold almost as +strongly as his literary quality, and very closely indeed connected +with that--the temperament of equity, of _epieikeia_, of freedom +from swagger and brag and self-assertion. And here, once more, the +things receive precisely their right treatment, the treatment +proportioned and adjusted at once to their own value and nature and to +the use which their critic is intending to make of them. For it is one +of the greatest literary excellences of the _Essays in Criticism_ +that, with rare exceptions, they bear a real relation to each other +and to the whole--that they are not a bundle but an organism; a +university, not a mob. + +The subjects of the two last essays, _Spinoza_ and _Marcus +Aurelius_, may at first sight, and not at first sight only, seem +oddly chosen. For although the conception of literature illustrated in +the earlier part of the book is certainly wide, and admits--nay, +insists upon, as it always did with Mr Arnold--considerations of +subject in general and of morals and religion in particular, yet it is +throughout one of literature as such. Now, we cannot say that the +interest of Spinoza or that of Marcus Aurelius, great as it is in both +cases, is wholly, or in the main, or even in any considerable part, a +literary interest. With Spinoza it is a philosophical-religious +interest, with Marcus Aurelius a moral-religious, almost purely. The +one may indeed illustrate that attempt to see things in a perfectly +white light which Mr Arnold thought so important in literature; the +other, that attention to conduct which he thought more important +still. But they illustrate these things in themselves, not in relation +to literature. They are less literary even than St Francis; far less +than the author of the _Imitation_. + +It cannot therefore but be suspected that in including them Mr Arnold, +unconsciously perhaps, but more probably with some consciousness, was +feeling his way towards that wide extension of the province of the +critic, that resurrection of the general Socratic attitude, which he +afterwards adventured. But it cannot be said that his experiments are +on this particular occasion in any way disastrous. With both his +subjects he had the very strongest sympathy--with Spinoza (as already +with Heine) as a remarkable example of the Hebraic spirit and genius, +rebellious to or transcending the usual limitations of Hebraism; with +Marcus Aurelius as an example of that non-Christian morality and +religiosity which also had so strong an attraction for him. There is +no trace in either essay of the disquieting and almost dismaying +jocularity which was later to invade his discussion of such things: we +are still far from Bottles; the three Lord Shaftesburys relieve us by +not even threatening to appear. And accordingly the two essays add in +no small degree, though somewhat after the fashion of an appendix or +belated episode, to the charm of the book. They have an unction which +never, as it so often does in the case of Mr Arnold's dangerous master +and model Renan, degenerates into unctuosity; they are nobly serious, +but without being in the least dull; they contain some exceedingly +just and at the same time perfectly urbane criticism of the ordinary +reviewing kind, and though they are not without instances of the +author's by-blows of slightly unproved opinion, yet these are by no +means eminent in them, and are not of a provocative nature. And I do +not think it fanciful to suppose that the note of grave if +unclassified piety, of reconciliation and resignation, with which they +close the book, was intended--that it was a deliberate "evening +voluntary" to play out of church the assistants at a most remarkable +function--such a function as criticism in English had not celebrated +before, such as, I think, it may without unfairness be said has not +been repeated since. _Essays in Criticism_, let us repeat, is a +book which is classed and placed, and it will remain in that class and +place: the fresh wreaths and the fresh mud, that may be in turn +unfitly thrown upon it, will affect neither. + +Between this remarkable book and the later ones of the same +_lustrum_, we may conveniently take up the thread of biography +proper where we last dropped it. The letters are fuller for this +period than perhaps for any other; but this very fulness makes it all +the more difficult to select incidents, never, perhaps, of the very +first importance, but vying with each other in the minor biographical +interests. A second fishing expedition to Viel Salm was attempted in +August 1862; but it did not escape the curse which seems to dog +attempts at repetition of the same pleasure. The river was hopelessly +low; the fish would not take; and the traveller came back in very +little more than "a day and a night and a morrow." By December +danger-signals are up in a letter to his mother, to the effect that +"it is intolerable absurdity to profess [who does?] to see +Christianity through the spectacles of a number of second- or +third-rate men who lived in Queen Elizabeth's time"--that time so +fertile in nothing but the second-rate and the third. But it is +followed a little later by the less disputable observation, "It is +difficult to make out exactly at what [F.D.] Maurice is driving; +perhaps he is always a little dim in his own mind" on that point. + +The illuminations at the Prince of Wales's marriage, where like other +people he found "the crowd very good-humoured," are noted; and the +beginning of _Thyrsis_ where and while the fritillaries blow. But +from the literary point of view few letters are more interesting than +a short one to Sir Mountstuart (then Mr) Grant Duff, dated May 14, +1863, in which Mr Arnold declines an edition of Heine, the loan of +which was offered for his lecture--later the well-known essay. His +object, he says, "is not so much to give a literary history of Heine's +work as to mark his place in modern European letters, and the special +tendency and significance of what he did." He will, therefore, not +even read these things of Heine's that he has not read, but will take +the _Romancero_ alone for his text, with a few quotations from +elsewhere, With a mere passing indication of the fact that Matthew +Arnold here, like every good critic of this century, avowedly pursues +that plan of "placing" writers which some of his own admirers so +foolishly decry, I may observe that this is a _locus classicus_ +for his own special kind of criticism. It is possible--I do not know +whether he did so--that Sir Mountstuart may, on receiving the letter, +have smiled and thought of "Mon siége est fait"; but I am sure he +would be the first to admit that the cases were different. I do not +myself think that Mr Arnold's strong point was that complete grasp of +a literary personality, and its place, which some critics aim at but +which few achieve. His impatience--here perhaps half implied and later +openly avowed--of the historic estimate in literature, would of itself +have made this process irksome to him. But on the lines of his own +special vocation as a critic it was not only irksome, it was +unnecessary. His function was to mark the special--perhaps it would be +safer to say _a_ special--tendency of his man, and to bring that +out with all his devices of ingenious reduplication, fascinating +rhetoric, and skilful parading of certain favourite axioms and general +principles. This function would not have been assisted--I think it +nearly certain that it would have been hampered and baulked--by that +attempt to find "the whole" which the Greek philosopher and poet so +sadly and so truly declares that few boast to find. It was a side, a +face, a phase of each man and writer, that he wished to bring out; +and, though he might sometimes exaggerate this, yet his exaggeration +was scarcely illegitimate. To bring out something he had to block out +much. If he had attempted to show the whole Goethe, the whole Heine, +the whole Homer or Shakespeare even, they would have been difficult if +not impossible to group and to compare in the fashion in which he +wished to deal with them. + +And except on the sheer assumption, which is surely a fallacy, that +_suppressio veri_ is always and not only sometimes _suggestio +falsi_, I do not see that he exceeded a due licence in this matter, +while that he was wise in his generation there can be no doubt. He +wanted to influence the average Englishman, and he knew perfectly well +there is nothing the average Englishman dislikes so much as guarded +and elaborately conditioned statements. The immense popularity and +influence of Macaulay had been due to his hatred of half-lights, of +"perhapses"; and little as Mr Arnold liked Macaulay's fiddle, he was +wise enough to borrow his rosin, albeit in disguise. If a critic makes +too many provisos, if he "buts" too much, if he attempts to paint the +warts as well as the beauties, he will be accused of want of sympathy, +he will be taxed with timorousness and hedging, at best he will be +blamed for wire-drawn and hair-splitting argument. The preambles of +exposition, the conclusions of summing up, will often be considered +tedious or impertinent. The opposite plan of selecting a nail and +hitting that on the head till you have driven it home was, in fact, as +much Mr Arnold's as it was Macaulay's. The hammer-play of the first +was far more graceful and far less monotonous: yet it was hammer-play +all the same. But we must return to our _Letters_. + +A dinner with Lord Houghton--"all the advanced Liberals in religion +and politics, and a Cingalese in full costume"--a visit to Cambridge +and a stroll to Grantchester, notice of about the first elaborate +appreciation of his critical work which had appeared in England, the +article by the late Mr S.H. Reynolds in the _Westminster Review_ +for October 1863, visits to the Rothschilds at Aston Clinton and +Mentmore, and interesting notices of the composition of the +_Joubert_, the _French Eton_, &c., fill up the year. The +death of Thackeray extracts one of those criticisms of his great +contemporaries which act as little douches from time to time, in the +words, "I cannot say that I thoroughly liked him, though we were on +friendly terms: and he was not to my mind a great writer." But the +personal reflections which follow are of value. He finds "the sudden +cessation of so vigorous an existence very sobering. To-day I am +forty-one; the middle of life in any case, and for me perhaps much +more than the middle. I have ripened and am ripening so slowly that I +should be glad of as much time as possible. Yet I can feel, I rejoice +to say, an inward spring which seems more and more to gain strength +and to promise to resist outward shocks, if they must come, however +rough. But of this inward spring one must not talk [it is only to his +mother that he writes this] for it does not like being talked about, +and threatens to depart if one will not leave it in mystery." + +An interview with Mr Disraeli at Aston Clinton, not, as one may +suppose, without pleasant words, opens 1864. "It is only from +politicians who have themselves felt the spell of literature that one +gets these charming speeches," he says, and they, not unnaturally, +charmed him so much that he left his dressing-case and his umbrella +behind him. But the anti-crusade is more and more declared. He "means +to deliver the middle-class out of the hand of their Dissenting +ministers," and in the interval wants to know how "that beast of a +word 'waggonette' is spelt?" The early summer was spent at Woodford, +on the borders of Epping Forest, and the early autumn at Llandudno, +where Welsh scenery and the poetry of the Celtic race "quite +overpower" him. Alas! some other poetry did not, and when we find him +in September thinking _Enoch Arden_ "perhaps the best thing +Tennyson has done," we are not surprised to find this remarkable +special appreciation followed by a general depreciation, which is +quite in keeping. He is even tempted (and of course asked) to write a +criticism of the Laureate, but justly replies, "How is that possible?" + +From 1865 we get numerous notices of the notices of the _Essays_, +and a pleasant and full account of a second official tour on the +Continent, with special dwellings at most of the Western and Central +European capitals. The tour lasted from April to November, and I have +sometimes thought that it might, by itself, give a better idea of Mr +Arnold as an epistoler than the _Letters_ at large seem to have +given. Early in 1866 we hear of the beginnings of the _Friendship's +Garland_ series, though the occasion for that name did not come +till afterwards. And he spent the summer of that year (as he did that +of the next) in a farmhouse at West Humble, near Dorking, while he +caught "_a_ salmon" in the Deveron during September. + +The occasion is perhaps a good one to say a few words on the relations +between Mr Arnold and M. Renan, though the latter is not so prominent +in the Continental letters as Sainte-Beuve and M. Scherer are. The +author of the _Vie de Jésus_ was a very slightly younger man than +Mr Arnold (he was born in 1823), but in consequence of his having left +the seminary and begun early to live by literary work, he was somewhat +in advance of his English compeer in literary repute. His +contributions to the _Débats_ and the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ +began to be collected soon after 1850, and his first remarkable single +book, _Averroès et l'Averroisme_, dates from that year. I do not +know how early Mr Arnold became acquainted with his written work. But +they actually met in 1859, during the business of the Foreign +Education Commission, and there is a very remarkable passage in a +letter to Mrs Forster on Christmas Eve of that year. He tells his +sister of "Ernest Renan, a Frenchman I met in Paris," and notes the +considerable resemblance between their lines of endeavour, observing, +however, that Renan is chiefly "trying to inculcate morality, in a +high sense of the word, on the French," while _he_ is trying to +inculcate intelligence on the English. After which he makes a long and +enthusiastic reference to the essay, _Sur la Poésie des Races +Celtiques_, the literary results of which we shall soon see. I do +not know whether Mr Arnold ever expressed to his intimates--for the +reference to M. Renan in "Numbers" is not quite explicit--what he +thought of those later and very peculiar developments of "morality in +a high sense of the word" which culminated in the _Abbesse de +Jouarre_ and other things. His sense of humour must have painfully +suggested to him that his own familiar friend and pattern Frenchman +had become one of the most conspicuous examples of that French +lubricity which he himself denounced. But there was no danger of his +imitating M. Renan in this respect. In others the following was quite +unmistakable, and, I am bound to say, on the whole rather disastrous. +In literary criticism Mr Arnold needed no teaching from M. Renan, and +as his English training on one of its sides preserved him from the +Frenchman's sentimental hedonism, so on another it kept him from the +wildest excesses of M. Renan's critical reconstructions of sacred +history. But he copied a great deal too much of his master's +dilettante attitude to religion as a whole, and, as we shall see, he +adopted and carried a great deal further M. Renan's (I am told) not +particularly well-informed and (I am sure) very hazardous and +fantastic ideas about Celtic literature. On the whole, the two were +far too much alike to do each other any good. Exquisite even as M. +Renan's mere style is, it is exquisite by reason of sweetness, with a +certain not quite white and slightly phosphorescent light, not by +strength or by practical and masculine force. Now it was the latter +qualities that Mr Arnold wanted; sweetness and light he could not +want. + +As the tenure of his Chair drew to a close, and as he began to loathe +examination papers more and more (indeed I know no one to whom _usus +concinnat amorem_ in the case of these documents), he made some +endeavours to obtain employment which might be, if not both more +profitable and less onerous, at any rate one or the other. First he +tried for a Charity Commissionership; then for the librarianship of +the House of Commons. For the former post it may be permitted to think +that his extremely strong--in fact partisan--opinions, both on +education and on the Church of England, were a most serious +disqualification; his appointment to the latter would have been an +honour to the House and to England, and would have shown that +sometimes at any rate the right man can find the right place. But he +got neither. He delivered his last Oxford lecture in the summer term +of 1867. I remember that there were strong undergraduate hopes that Mr +Browning, who was an Honorary M.A., might be got to succeed him; but +it was decided that the honorary qualification was insufficient, and I +daresay there were other objections. Mr Arnold had a sort of +"send-off" in the shape of two great dinners at Balliol and Merton, at +which he and Mr Browning were the principal guests, and the close of +his professorial career was further made memorable by the issue of the +_Study of Celtic Literature_ in prose and the _New Poems_ in verse, +with _Schools and Universities on the Continent_ to follow next year. +Of these something must be said before this chapter is closed. + +_On the Study of Celtic Literature_ is the first book of his to +which, as a whole, and from his own point of view, we may take rather +serious objections. That it has merits not affected by these +objections need hardly be said; indeed I think it would not be foolish +to say that it is--or was--even the superior of the _Homer_ in +comparative and indirect importance. In that Mr Arnold had but, at the +best, roused men to enter upon new ways of dealing with old and +familiar matter; in this he was leading them to conquest of new +realms. Now, as we have seen, it was exactly this exploration, this +expansion, of which English was then in most need, just as it is now +perhaps in most need of concentration and retreat upon the older +acquisitions. + +So far so good; but if we go farther, we do not at first fare better. +It would be grossly unjust to charge Mr Arnold with all the nonsense +which has since been talked about Celtic Renascences; but I fear we +cannot write all that nonsense off his account. In particular, he set +an example, which has in this and other matters been far too widely +followed, of speaking without sufficient knowledge of fact. It cannot +be too peremptorily laid down that the literary equivalent of a +"revoke"--the literary act after which, if he does it on purpose, you +must not play with a man--is speaking of authors and books which he +has not read and cannot read in the original, while he leaves you +ignorant of his ignorance. _This_ Mr Arnold never committed, and +could never have committed. But short of it, and while escaping its +penalty, a man may err by speaking too freely even of what he +confesses that he does not know; and of this minor and less +discreditable sin, I own (acknowledging most frankly that I know even +less of the _originals_ than he did), I think Mr Arnold was here +guilty. + +Exactly how much Gaelic, Irish, or Welsh Mr Arnold knew at first-hand, +I cannot say: he frankly enough confesses that his knowledge was very +closely limited. But what is really surprising, is that he does not +seem to have taken much trouble to extend it at second-hand. A very +few Welsh triads and scraps of Irish are all that, even in +translation, he seems to have consulted: he never, I think, names +Dafydd ap Gwilym, usually put forward as the greatest of Celtic poets; +and in the main his citations are derived either from _Ossian_ +("this do seem going far," as an American poetess observes), or else +from the _Mabinogion_, where some of the articles are positively +known to be late translations of French-English originals, and the +others are very uncertain. You really cannot found any safe literary +generalisations on so very small a basis of such very shaky matter. In +fact, Mr Arnold's argument for the presence of "Celtic magic," &c., in +Celtic poetry comes to something like this. "There is a quality of +magic in Shakespeare, Keats, &c.; this magic must be Celtic: therefore +it must be in Celtic poetry." Fill up the double enthymeme who list, I +am not going to endeavour to do so. I shall only say that two +sentences give the key-note of the book as argument. "Rhyme itself, +all the weight of evidence tends to show, came into our poetry from +the Celts." Now to some of us all the weight of evidence tends to show +that it came from the Latins. "Our only first-rate body of +contemporary poetry is the German." Now at the time (1867), for more +than thirty years, Germany had not had a single poet of the first or +the second class except Heine, who, as Mr Arnold himself very truly +says, was not a German but a Jew. + +But once more, what we go to Mr Matthew Arnold for is not fact, it is +not argument, it is not even learning. It is phrase, attitude, style, +that by which, as he says admirably in this very book, "what a man has +to say is recast and heightened in such a manner as to add dignity and +distinction to it." It is the new critical attitude, the appreciation +of literary beauty in and for itself, the sense of "the word," the +power of discerning and the power of reflecting charm, the method not +more different from the wooden deduction of the old school of critics +than from the merely unenlightened and Philistine commonness of the +reviewers, his earlier contemporaries, or from the aimless "I like +that" and "I don't like this" which does duty now, and did then, and +has done always, for criticism itself. True, Mr Arnold himself might +be wilful, capricious, haphazard; true, he might often be absolutely +unable to give any real reason for the faith that was in him; true, he +sometimes might have known more than he did know about his subject. +But in all these points he saved himself: in his wilfulness, by the +grace and charm that sometimes attend caprice; in his want of reason, +by his genuineness of faith itself; in his occasional lack of the +fullest knowledge, by the admirable use--not merely display--which he +made of what knowledge he had. There may be hardly a page of the two +books of his lectures in which it is not possible to find some +opportunity for disagreement--sometimes pretty grave disagreement; but +I am sure that no two more valuable books, in their kind and subject, +to their country and time, have been ever issued from the press. + +The _New Poems_ make a volume of unusual importance in the +history of poetical careers. Mr Arnold lived more than twenty years +after the date of their publication; but his poetical production +during that time filled no more than a few pages. At this date he was +a man of forty-five--an age at which the poetical impulse has been +supposed to run low, but perhaps with no sufficient reason. Poets of +such very different types as Dryden and Tennyson have produced work +equal to their best, if not actually their best, at that age and +later. Mr Browning had, a few years before, produced what are perhaps +his actually greatest volumes, _Men and Women_ and _Dramatis +Personae_, the one at forty-three, the other at fifty-two. +According to Mr Arnold's own conception of poetry-making, as depending +upon the subject and upon the just and artist-like exposition of that +subject, no age should be too late. + +Certainly this age was not too late with him. The contents all +answered strictly enough to their title, except that _Empedocles on +Etna_ and some half-dozen of its companions were, at Mr Browning's +request, reprinted from the almost unpublished volume of 1852, and +that _Thyrsis, St Brandan, A Southern Night_, and the _Grande +Chartreuse_ had made magazine appearances. Again the moment was +most important. When Mr Arnold had last made (omitting with an apology +the "transient and embarrassed phantom" of _Merope_) an +appearance in 1855, the transition age of English nineteenth-century +poetry was in full force. No one's place was safe but Tennyson's; and +even his was denied by some, including Mr Arnold himself, who never +got his eyes quite clear of scales in that matter. Browning, though he +had handed in indisputable proofs, had not yet had them allowed; the +Spasmodics had not disappeared; the great prae-Raphaelite school was +but on the way. The critics knew not what to think; the vulgar thought +(to the tune of myriad copies) of Tupper. Both classes, critic and +public, rent _Maud_ and neglected _Men and Women: The Defence +of Guenevere_ had not yet rung the matins--bell in the ears of the +new generation. + +Now things were all altered. The mixture of popularity and perfection +in the _Idylls_ and the _Enoch Arden_ volume--the title poem +and _Aylmer's Field_ for some, _The Voyage_ and _Tithonus_ and _In the +Valley of Cauterets_ for others--had put Tennyson's place + + "Beyond the arrows, shouts, and views of men." + +The three-volume collection of Browning's _Poems_, and +_Dramatis Personae_ which followed to clench it, had nearly, if +not quite, done the same for him. _The Defence of Guenevere_ and +_The Life and Death of Jason, Atalanta, Chastelard_, and most of +all the _Poems and Ballads_, had launched an entirely new +poetical school with almost unexampled pomp and promise on the world. +The Spasmodics were forgotten, the Tupper cult had been nearly (not +yet quite) laughed out of existence. That Mr Arnold's own poems had +had any widely extended sale or reading could hardly be said; but they +were read by those who were or were shortly to be themselves read. You +had not to look far in any Oxford college (I cannot speak of +Cambridge) before you found them on those undergraduate shelves which +mean so much; while many who, from general distaste to poetry or from +accident, knew them not, or hardly knew them, were familiar with their +author's prose work, or at least knew him as one whom others knew. + +The volume itself was well calculated to take advantage, to at least a +moderate extent, of this conjunction of circumstance. At no time was +the appeal of Mr Arnold's poetry of the most impetuous or peremptory +order. And it might be contended that this collection contains nothing +quite up to the very best things of the earlier poems, to the +_Shakespeare_ sonnet, to _The Scholar-Gipsy_, to the _Isolation_ +stanzas. But with the majority of its readers it was sure rather to +send them to these earlier things than to remind them thereof, and its +own attractions were abundant, various, and strong. + +In the poet himself there was perhaps a slight consciousness of "the +silver age." The prefatory _Stanzas_, a title changed in the +collected works to _Persistency of Poetry_, sound this note-- + + "Though the Muse be gone away, + Though she move not earth to-day, + Souls, erewhile who caught her word, + Ah! still harp on what they heard." + +A confession perhaps a little dangerous, when the Muses were speaking +in no uncertain tones not merely to juniors like Mr Morris and Mr +Swinburne but to seniors like Tennyson and Browning. But the actual +contents were more than reassuring. Of _Empedocles_ it is not +necessary to speak again: _Thyrsis_ could not but charm. The +famous line, + + "And that sweet city with her dreaming spires," + +sets the key dangerously high; but it is kept by the magnificent +address to the cuckoo, + + "Too quick despairer, wherefore wilt thou go?" + +and the flower-piece that follows; by that other single masterpiece, + + "The coronals of that forgotten time;" + +by the more solemn splendour of the stanza beginning + + "And long the way appears which seemed so short;" + +by the Signal tree; and by the allegoric close with the reassertion of +the Scholar. All these things stand by themselves, hold their sure and +reserved place, even in the rush and crowd of the poetry of the +sixties, the richest, perhaps, since the time from 1805 to 1822. + +_Saint Brandan_, which follows, has pathos if not great power, +and connects itself agreeably with those Celtic and mediæval studies +which had just attracted and occupied Mr Arnold. The sonnets which +form the next division might be variously judged. None of them equals +the _Shakespeare_; and one may legitimately hold the opinion that +the sonnet was not specially Mr Arnold's form. Its greatest examples +have always been reached by the reflex, the almost combative, action +of intense poetic feeling--Shakespeare's, Milton's, Wordsworth's, +Rossetti's--and intensity was not Mr Arnold's characteristic. Yet +_Austerity of Poetry, East London_, and _Monica's Last Prayer_ must +always stand so high in the second class that it is hardly critical +weakness to allow them the first. And then the tide rises. _Calais +Sands_ may not be more than very pretty, but it is that, and _Dover +Beach_ is very much more. Mr Arnold's theological prepossessions and +assumptions may appear in it, and it may be unfortunately weak as an +argument, for except the flood itself nothing is so certain a +testimony to the flood as the ebb. But the order, the purpose, the +argument, the subject, matter little to poetry. The expression, the +thing that is _not_ the subject, the tendency outside the subject, +which makes for poetry, are here, and almost of the very best. Here +you have that passionate interpretation of life, which is so different +a thing from the criticism of it; that marvellous pictorial effect to +which the art of line and colour itself is commonplace and _banal_, +and which prose literature never attains except by a _tour de force_; +that almost more marvellous accompaniment of vowel and consonant +music, independent of the sense but reinforcing it, which is the glory +of English poetry among all, and of nineteenth-century poetry among +all English, poetries. As is the case with most Englishmen, the sea +usually inspired Mr Arnold--it is as natural to great English poets to +leave the echo of the very word ringing at the close of their verse as +it was to Dante to end with "stars." But it has not often inspired any +poet so well as this, nor anywhere this poet better than here. If at +any time a critic may without fatuity utter judgment with some +confidence, it is where he disagrees with the sentiment and admires +the poem; and for my part I find in _Dover Beach_, even without the +_Merman_, without the _Scholar-Gipsy_, without _Isolation_, a document +which I could be content to indorse "Poetry, _sans phrase_." + +_The Terrace at Berne_ has been already dealt with, but that mood for +epicede, which was so frequent in Mr Arnold, finds in the _Carnac_ +stanzas adequate, and in _A Southern Night_ consummate, expression. +_The Fragment of Chorus of a Dejaneira_, written long before, but now +first published, has the usual faults of Mr Arnold's rhymeless verse. +It is really quite impossible, when one reads such stuff as-- + + "Thither in your adversity + Do you betake yourselves for light, + But strangely misinterpret all you hear. + For you will not put on + New hearts with the inquirer's holy robe + And purged considerate minds"-- + +not to ask what, poetically speaking, is the difference between this +and the following-- + + "To college in the pursuit of duly + Did I betake myself for lecture; + But very soon I got extremely wet, + For I had not put on + The stout ulster appropriate to Britain, + And my umbrella was at home." + +But _Palladium_, if not magnificent, is reconciling, the Shakespearian +_Youth's Agitations_ beautiful, and _Growing Old_ delightful, not +without a touch of terror. It is the reply, the _verneinung_, to +Browning's magnificent _Rabbi ben Ezra_, and one has almost to fly to +that stronghold in order to resist its chilling influence. But it is +poetry for all that, and whatever there is in it of weakness is +redeemed, though not quite so poetically, by _The Last Word_. The +_Lines written in Kensington Gardens_ (which had appeared with +_Empedocles_, but were missed above) may be half saddened, half +endeared to some by their own remembrance of the "black-crowned +red-boled" giants there celebrated--trees long since killed by London +smoke, as the good-natured say, as others, by the idiotic tidiness of +the gardeners, who swept the needles up and left the roots without +natural comfort and protection. And then, after lesser things, the +interesting, if not intensely poetical, _Epilogue to Lessing's +Laocoon_ leads us to one of the most remarkable of all Mr Arnold's +poems, _Bacchanalia, or the New Age_. The word remarkable has been +used advisedly. _Bacchanalia_, though it has poignant and exquisite +poetic moments, is not one of the most specially _poetical_ of its +author's pieces. But it is certainly his only considerable piece of +that really poetic humour which is so rare and delightful a thing. +And, like all poetic humour, it oscillates between cynicism and +passion almost bewilderingly. For a little more of this what pages and +pages of jocularity about Bottles and the Rev. Esau Hittall would we +not have given! what volumes of polemic with the _Guardian_ and +amateur discussions of the Gospel of St John! In the first place, note +the metrical structure, the sober level octosyllables of the overture +changing suddenly to a dance-measure which, for a wonder in English, +almost keeps the true dactylic movement. How effective is the +rhetorical iteration of + + "The famous orators have shone, + The famous poets sung and gone," + +and so on for nearly half a score of lines! How perfect the sad +contrast of the refrain-- + + "_Ah! so the quiet was! + So was the hush!_" + +how justly set and felicitously worded the rural picture of the +opening! how riotous the famous irruption of the New Agers! how +adequate the quiet-moral of the end, that the Past is as the Present, +and more also! And then he went and wrote about Bottles! + +"Progress," with a splendid opening-- + + "The master stood upon the mount and taught-- + He saw a fire in his disciples' eyes,"-- + +conducts us to two other fine, though rhymeless, dirges. In the first, +_Rugby Chapel_, the intensity of feeling is sufficient to carry off +the lack of lyrical accomplishment. The other is the still better +_Heine's Grave_, and contains the famous and slightly pusillanimous +lines about the "weary Titan," which are among the best known of their +author's, and form at once the motto and the stigma of mid-century +Liberal policy. And then the book is concluded by two other +elegies--in rhyme this time--_The Stanzas written at the Grande +Chartreuse_ and _Obermann once more_. They are, however, elegies of a +different kind, much more self-centred, and, indeed, little more than +fresh variations on "the note," as I ventured to call it before. Their +descriptive and autobiographic interest is great, and if poetry were a +criticism of life, there is plenty of that of them. The third +book--_Schools and Universities on the Continent_ (1868)--in which are +put the complete results of the second Continental exploration--is, I +suppose, much less known than the non-professional work, though +perhaps not quite so unknown as the earlier report on elementary +education. By far the larger part of it--the whole, indeed, except a +"General Conclusion" of some forty pages--is a reasoned account of the +actual state of matters in France, Italy, Germany, and Switzerland. It +is not exactly judicial; for the conclusion--perhaps the foregone +conclusion--obviously colours every page. But it is an excellent +example (as, indeed, is all its author's non-popular writing) of clear +and orderly exposition--never arranged _ad captandum_, but also never +"dry." Indeed there certainly are some tastes, and there may be many, +to which the style is a distinct relief after the less quiet and more +mannered graces of some of the rest. + +Opinions may differ more as to the value of the book as a lesson, or +as an argument. Mr Arnold had started with a strong belief in the +desirableness--indeed of the necessity--of State-control of the most +thoroughgoing kind in education; and he was not at all likely to miss +the opportunity of fetching new weapons from the very arsenals and +_places d'armes_ of that system. He was thoroughly convinced that +English ways generally, and especially the ways of English schools and +colleges, were wrong; and he had, of course, no difficulty in pointing +triumphantly to the fact that, if the institutions of Continental +countries differed in some ways from each other, they all differed in +nearly the same way from ours. It may undoubtedly be claimed for +him--by those who see any force in the argument--that events have +followed him. Education, both secondary and university in England, +_has_ to a large extent gone since on the lines he indicates; the +threatened superiority of the German bagman has asserted itself even +more and more; the "teaching of literature" has planted a terrible +fixed foot in our schools and colleges. But perhaps the weight usually +assigned to this kind of corroboration is rather imaginary. That a +thing has happened does not prove that it ought to have happened, +except on a theory of determinism, which puts "conduct" out of sight +altogether. There are those who will still, in the vein of +Mephistopheles-Akinetos, urge that the system which gave us the men +who pulled us out of the Indian Mutiny can stand comparison with the +system which gave France the authors of the _débâcle_; that the +successes of Germany over France in war have no necessary connection +with education, and those of Germany over England in commerce, +diplomacy, &c., still less. They will even go further--some of +them--and ask whether the Continental practices and the Arnoldian +principles do not necessitate divers terribly large and terribly +ill-based assumptions, as that all men are _educable_, that the value +of education is undiminished by its diffusion, that all, or at least +most, subjects are capable of being made educational instruments, and +a great many more. + +On the other hand, they will cheerfully grant that Mr Arnold never +succumbed to that senseless belief in examination which has done, and +is doing, such infinite harm. But they will add to the debit side that +the account of English university studies which ends the book was even +at the time of writing so inaccurate as to be quite incomprehensible, +unless we suppose that Mr Arnold was thinking of the days of his own +youth, and not of those with complete accuracy. He says "the +examination for the degree of bachelor of arts, which we place at the +end of our three years' university course, is merely the +_Abiturienten-examen_ of Germany, the _épreuve du baccalauréat_ of +France, placed in both those countries at the entrance to university +studies"; and it is by this that he justifies Signer Matteucci's +absurd description of Oxford and Cambridge as _hauts lyceés_ Now, in +the first place, there is not one single word in this sentence, or in +the context, or, so far as I remember, in the whole book, about the +Honours system, which for very many years before 1868 had exalted the +standard infinitely higher in the case of a very large proportion of +men. And in the second place, there is not a word about the +Scholarship system, which in the same way had for very many years +provided an entrance standard actually higher--far higher in some +ways--than the _concluding_ examinations of the French _baccalauréat_. +My own days at Oxford were from 1863 to 1868, the year of Mr Arnold's +book. During that time there were always in the university some 400 +men who had actually obtained scholarships on this standard; and a +very considerable number who had competed on it, and done fairly. +Whether Mr Arnold shared Mark Pattison's craze about the abolition of +the pass-man altogether, I do not know. But he ought to have known, +and I should think he must have known, that at the time of his writing +the mere and sheer pass-man--the man whose knowledge was represented +by the minimum of Smalls, Mods, and Greats--was, if not actually in a +minority,--in some colleges at least he was that--at any rate in a +pretty bare majority. With his love of interference and control, he +might have retorted that this did not matter, that the university +_permitted_ every one to stick to the minimum. But as a matter of fact +he suggests that it provided no alternative, no _maximum_ or _majus_ +at all. + +By the time that we have now reached, that of his giving up the +professorship, Mr Arnold's position was, for good and for evil, mostly +fixed. When he took up the duties of his chair he was, though by no +means a very young man and already the author of much remarkable work, +yet almost unknown out of Oxford and a small official circle in +London. He had now, at forty-five, not exactly popularity, but a very +considerable, and a very lively and growing, reputation. By far the +most and the best of his poetry was written; but it was only just +coming to be at all generally read or at all justly appreciated. He +had, partly in obeying, and partly in working against his official +superiors, acquired a distinct position as an educational reformer. He +had become something of a figure in society. But, above all, he had +proclaimed with undoubting authority, and had exemplified with +remarkable and varied skill, a new or at least a very greatly altered +kind of literary criticism. And this had already threatened incursions +into domains from which men of letters as such had generally kept +aloof, or which, if they had touched, they had touched not as men of +letters. Something of Socrates, something of Addison, something of +Johnson, mingled in Mr Arnold's presentation of himself as, if not +exactly an arbiter, at any rate a suggester of elegances in all +things, poetry and politics, prose and polite manners, public thought, +public morality, religion itself. These pretensions, if urged in a +less agreeable manner, would have been intolerable; they were not +universally tolerated as it was: but the gifts and graces of the +critic made them--so far--inoffensive, even rather fascinating, to all +save the least accommodating or the most clear-sighted, and to some +even of these. + +And we must remember that this appearance of Mr Arnold as the mild and +ingenious tamer of the ferocious manners of Britons coincided with far +wider and more remarkable innovations. This was the time, at home, of +the second Parliamentary Reform, which did at least as much to +infringe the authority of his enemy the Philistine, as the first had +done to break the power of the half-dreaded, half-courted Barbarian. +This was the time when, abroad, the long-disguised and disorganised +power of Germany was to rearrange the map of Europe, and to bring +about a considerable rearrangement of Mr Arnold's own ideas as to the +respective greatness of foreign nations. And finally the walls of +another stronghold of British Philistia, its intense and apparently +impregnable self-satisfaction with Free-trade and cheap money and so +forth, were tottering and crumbling. A blast against them--indeed a +series of blasts from _Chartism_ to the _Latter-day +Pamphlets_--had been blown long before by Carlyle, in very +different tones from Mr Arnold's. They had lost their stoutest +champion and their most eloquent panegyrist in Macaulay. But Sadowa +and household suffrage gave the final summons, if not the final shake. +Mr Arnold had done his best to co-operate; but his object, to do him +justice, was to be rather a raiser of the walls of Thebes than an +over-thrower of those of Jericho, or even of Ashdod. He set about, in +all seriousness, to clear away the rubbish and begin the +re-edification; unluckily, in but too many cases, with dubious +judgment, and by straying into quarters where he had no vocation. But +he never entirely neglected his real business and his real vocation, +and fortunately he returned to them almost entirely before it was too +late. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +IN THE WILDERNESS. + + +That the end of Mr Arnold's tenure of the Professorship of Poetry was +a most important epoch in his life is sufficiently evident. In the ten +years that came to an end then, he had, as two such extremely +competent judges as Mr Disraeli and Crabb Robinson in different ways +told him,[1] passed from comparative obscurity into something more +than comparative prominence. His chair had been for him a real +_cathedra_, and his deliverances from it had always assumed, and +had at length, to a great extent, achieved, real authority. In +criticism it was evident that if he had not revealed positively novel +aspects of truth, he had formulated and put on record aspects which +were presenting themselves to many, nay, most, of the best critical +minds of his day. His criticism had drawn his poetry with it, if not +into actual popularity, yet into something like attention. His +attempts to obtain some other employment less irksome, less absorbing, +and more profitable, had indeed been unsuccessful; but he was rising +in his own department, and his work, if still in part uncongenial and +decidedly laborious, appears to have been much less severe than in +earlier days. Partly this work itself, partly his writings, and partly +other causes had opened to him a very large circle of acquaintance, +which it was in his own power to extend or contract as he pleased. His +domestic life was perfectly happy, if his means were not very great: +and his now assured literary position made it easy for him to increase +these means, not indeed largely, but to a not despicable extent, by +writing. The question was, "What should he write?" + +It is probably idle ever to wish that a man had done anything +different from that which he has done. Without being a rigid +Determinist, one may be pretty well convinced that the actual conduct +is the joint result of abilities, and of desires, and of opportunity +to exercise them, and that the man, had he really done otherwise, +would have been unsuccessful or unhappy or both. But I fear that if I +had been arbiter of Mr Arnold's fate at this moment I should have +arranged it differently. He should have given us more poems--the man +who, far later, wrote the magnificent _Westminster Abbey_ on such a +subject as Dean Stanley, had plenty more poetry in his sack. And in +prose he should have given us infinite essays, as many as De Quincey's +or as Sainte-Beuve's own, and more than Hazlitt's, of the kind of the +_Heine_ and the _Joubert_ earlier, of the _Wordsworth_ and the _Byron_ +later. I can see no reason why, in the twenty-one years' lease of life +upon which he now entered, he should not have produced a volume a-year +of these,--there are more than enough subjects in the various +literatures that he knew; and though it is possible that in such +extended application his method might have proved monotonous, or his +range have seemed narrow, it is not likely. To complete the thing, I +should have given him, instead of his inspectorship, a headship at +Oxford, for which, it seems to me, he was admirably fitted. But _Dis +aliter visum_: at least it seemed otherwise good to Mr Arnold himself +as far as his literary employments were concerned, and the gods did +not interfere. + +We have seen that he had, some years before, conceived the ambitious +idea of changing the mind of England on a good many points by no means +merely literary; and he seems, not altogether unnaturally, to have +thought that now was the time to apply seriously to that work. His +tenure of the Oxford chair had given him the public ear; and the +cessation of that tenure had removed any official seal of etiquette +which it might have laid on his own lips. A far less alert and acute +mind than his must have seen that the Reform troubles of 1866 and the +"leap in the dark" of 1867 were certain to bring about very great +changes indeed at home; and that the war of the first-named year meant +the alteration of many things abroad. He at least thought--and there +was some justification of a good many kinds for him in thinking--that +intellectual changes, of importance equal to the political, were +coming or come upon the world. And so for a time he seems to have +grown rather cold towards the Muses, his earliest and always his +truest loves. Social, political, and religious matters tempted him +away from literature; and for a matter of ten years it can hardly be +said that he had anything to do with her except to take her name in +vain in the title of by far his worst, as it was by far his most +popular, volume. + +It has been hinted in a note on one of the early pages in this book +that the secret of this unfortunate twist is at least partly to be +found in the peculiar character of Mr Arnold's official employment. +For nearly twenty years he had been constantly thrown into contact +with the English Dissenters; and, far earlier than the time which we +have reached, they seem not only, in familiar phrase, to have "got +upon his nerves," but to have affected his brain. He saw all things in +Dissent--or, at least, in the middle-class Philistine Dissenter. His +Philistia is not in the least a true portrait of the average +middle-class household thirty or forty years ago; though, I daresay (I +have little direct knowledge), it is not an unfair one of the average +Dissenting middle-class household. The religion which Mr Arnold +attacks is not the religion of the Church of England at all, or only +of what was even then a decaying and uninfluential part of it, the +extremer and more intolerant sect of the Evangelicals. Once more, I +cannot from personal knowledge say whether this portrait was true of +Dissent, but I can believe it. + +Now, to derive an idea of England from the English Dissenter is and +was absurd. Politically, indeed, he had only too much power between +1832 and 1866, from the tradition which made Liberal politicians fond +of petting him. Socially, intellectually, and to a great extent +religiously, he had next to no power at all. To take the average +manager of a "British" school as the average representative of the +British nation was the wildest and most mischievous of confusions. Yet +this practically was the basis of Mr Arnold's crusade between 1867 and +1877. + +The First Blast of the Trumpet was, intentionally no doubt, the last +of the Oxford lectures, and for that very reason a rather gentle and +insinuating one. _Culture its Enemies_, which was the origin and +first part, so to say, of _Culture and Anarchy_, carried the +campaign begun in the _Essays in Criticism_ forward; but only in +the most cautious manner, a caution no doubt partly due to the fact of +the author's expressed, and very natural and proper, intention of +closing his professorial exercises with the _bocca dolce_. Still +this is at least conceivably due to the fact that the boldest +extension of the campaign itself had not definitely entered, or at +least possessed, the author's mind. A considerable time, indeed from +July 1867 to January 1868, passed before the publication of the +lecture as an article in the _Cornhill_ was followed up by the +series from the latter month to August, which bore the general title +of _Anarchy and Authority_, and completed the material of +_Culture and Anarchy_ itself. This, as a book, appeared in 1869. + +It began, according to the author's favourite manner, which was +already passing into something like a mannerism, with a sort of +half-playful, half-serious battery against a living writer (in this +case Mr Frederic Harrison), and with a laudatory citation from a dead +one (in this case Bishop Wilson). Mr Harrison had blasphemed "the cant +about culture," and Mr Arnold protests that culture's only aim is in +the Bishop's words, "to make reason and the will of God prevail." In +the first chapter, famous thenceforward in English literature by its +title, borrowed from Swift, of "Sweetness and Light," we have the old +rallyings of the _Daily Telegraph_ and the _Nonconformist_. +Then the general view is laid down, and is developed in those that +follow, but still with more of a political than a religious bent, and +with the political bent itself chiefly limited to the social aspect. + +"Doing as one Likes" scatters a mild rain of ridicule on this supposed +fetich of all classes in England; and then, the very famous, if not +perhaps very felicitous, nickname-classification of +"Barbarian-Philistine-Populace" is launched, defended, discussed in a +chapter to itself. To do Mr Arnold justice, the three classes are, if +not very philosophically defined, very impartially and amusingly +rallied, the rallier taking up that part of humble Philistine +conscious of his own weaknesses, which, till he made it slightly +tiresome by too long a run, was piquant enough. The fourth chapter, +"Hebraism and Hellenism," coasts the sands and rocks (on which, as it +seems to some, Mr Arnold was later to make shipwreck) very nearly in +the title and rather nearly in the contents, but still with a fairly +safe offing. The opposition might be put too bluntly by saying that +"Hellenism" represents to Mr Arnold the love of truth at any price, +and "Hebraism" the love of goodness at any price; but the actual +difference is not far from this, or from those of knowing and doing, +fear of stupidity and fear of sin, &c. We have the quotation from Mr +Carlyle about Socrates being "terribly at ease in Zion," the +promulgation of the word Renascence for Renaissauce, and so forth. +"Porro unum est necessarium," a favourite tag of Mr Arnold's, rather +holds up another side of the same lesson than continues it in a fresh +direction; and then "Our Liberal Practitioners" brings it closer to +politics, but (since the immediate subject is the Disestablishment of +the Irish Church) nearer also to the quicksands. Yet Mr Arnold still +keeps away from them; though from what followed it would seem that he +could only have done so by some such _tour de force_ as the +famous "clubhauling" in _Peter Simple_. Had _Culture and +Anarchy_ stood by itself, it would have been, though very far from +its author's masterpiece, an interesting document both in regard to +his own mental history and that of England during the third quarter of +the century, containing some of his best prose, and little, if any, of +his worst sense. + +But your crusader--still more your anti-crusader--never stops, and Mr +Arnold was now pledged to this crusade or anti-crusade. In October +1869 he began, still in the _Cornhill_,--completing it by further +instalments in the same place later in the year, and publishing it in +1870,--the book called _St Paul and Protestantism_, where he +necessarily exchanges the mixed handling of _Culture and Anarchy_ +for a dead-set at the religious side of his imaginary citadel of +Philistia. The point of at least ostensible connection--of real +departure--is taken from the "Hebraism and Hellenism" contrast of the +earlier book; and the same contrast is strongly urged throughout, +especially in the _coda_, "A Comment on Christmas." But this +contrast is gradually shaped into an onslaught on Puritanism, or +rather on its dogmatic side, for its appreciation of "conduct" of +morality is ever more and more eulogised. As regards the Church of +England herself, the attack is oblique; in fact, it is disclaimed, and +a sort of a Latitudinarian Union, with the Church for centre, and +dogma left out, is advocated. Another of our Arnoldian friends, the +"Zeit-Geist," makes his appearance, and it is more than hinted that +one of the most important operations of this spirit is the exploding +of miracles. The book is perfectly serious--its seriousness, indeed, +is quite evidently deliberate and laboured, so that the author does +not even fear to appear dull. But it is still admirably written, as +well as studiously moderate and reverent; no exception can be taken to +it on the score of taste, whatever may be taken on the score of +orthodoxy from the one side, where no doubt the author would hasten to +plead guilty, or on those of logic, history, and the needs of human +nature on the other, where no doubt his "not guilty" would be equally +emphatic. + +The case is again altered, and very unfortunately altered, in the +next, the most popular and, as has been said, the most famous of the +series--its zenith at once and its nadir--_Literature and Dogma_. +A very much smaller part of this had appeared in magazine form; +indeed, the contents of _St Paul and Protestantism_ itself must +have seemed odd in that shape, and only strong sympathies on the part +of the editor could have obtained admission for any part of +_Literature and Dogma_. Much of it must have been written amid +the excitement of the French-Prussian War, when the English public was +athirst for "skits" of all sorts, and when Mr Arnold himself was "i' +the vein," being engaged in the composition of much of the matter of +_Friendship's Garland_. _St Paul and Protestantism_ had had +two editions in the same year (_Culture and Anarchy_, a far +better thing, waited six for its second), and altogether the state of +things was such as to invite any author to pursue the triumph and +partake the gale. And he might at first flatter himself that he had +caught the one and made cyclone-use of the other; for the book, +appearing at the end of 1872, with the date of 1873, passed through +three editions in that year, a fourth in 1874, and a fifth two years +later. It was thus by far Mr Arnold's most popular book; I repeat also +that it is quite his worst. + +That it was in hopelessly bad taste here and there--in taste so bad +that Mr Arnold himself later cut out the most famous passage of the +book, to which accordingly we need here only allude--can be denied by +nobody except those persons who hold "good form" to be, as somebody or +other puts it, "an insular British delusion of the fifties and +sixties." But this excision of his and, I think, some others, besides +the "citations and illustrations" which he confesses to having +excluded from the popular edition, may give us the welcome leave to +deal very briefly with this side of the matter in other respects also. +We may pass over the fun which Mr Arnold had with Archbishop Thomson +(who, whatsoe'er the failings on his part, was at any rate a logician) +on the theory of causation; with the University of Cambridge about +_hominum divomque voluptas alma Venus_ (I have forgotten what was +the bearing of this joke, and it is probably not worth inquiring +into); with the Bishop of Gloucester about the Personality of God; +with the Athanasian Creed, and its "science got ruffled by fighting." +These things, as "form," class themselves; one mutters something well +known about _risu inepto_, and passes on. Such a tone on such a +subject can only be carried off completely by the gigantic strength of +Swift, though no doubt it is well enough in keeping with the merely +negative and destructive purpose of Voltaire. It would be cruel to +bring _Literature and Dogma_ into competition with _A Tale of a +Tub_; it would be more than unjust to bring it into comparison with +_Le Taureau blanc_. And neither comparison is necessary, because +the great fault of _Literature and Dogma_ appears, not when it is +considered as a piece of doubtful or not doubtful taste, but when it +is regarded as a serious composition. + +In the first place, the child-like fashion in which Mr Arnold +swallowed the results of that very remarkable "science," Biblical +criticism, has always struck some readers with astonishment and a kind +of terror. This new La Fontaine asking everybody, "Avez-vous lu +Kuenen?" is a lesson more humbling to the pride of literature than +almost any that can be found. "The prophecy of the details of Peter's +death," we are told in _Literature and Dogma_, "is almost +certainly an addition after the event, _because it is not at all in +the manner of Jesus_." Observe that we have absolutely no details, +no evidence of any sort whatever, outside the Gospels for the "manner +of Jesus." It is not, as in some at least of the more risky exercises +of profane criticism in a similar field, as if we had some absolutely +or almost absolutely authenticated documents, and others to judge by +them. External evidence, except for the mere fact of Christ's +existence and death, we have none. So you must, by the inner light, +pick and choose out of the very same documents, resting on the very +same authority, what, according to your good pleasure, is "in the +manner of Jesus," and then black-mark the rest as being not so. Of +course, when Mr Arnold thus wrote, the method had not been pushed +_ad absurdum_, as it was later by his friend M. Renan in the +_Histoire d'Israël_, to the dismay and confusion of no less +intelligent and unorthodox a critic than his other friend, M. Scherer. +But it is more or less the method of all Biblical criticism of this +sort, and Mr Arnold follows it blindly. + +Again, the chief bent of the book is to establish that "miracles do +not happen." Alas! it is Mr Arnold's unhappy lot that if miracles +_do_ happen his argument confessedly disappears, while even if +miracles do not happen it is, for his purpose, valueless. Like almost +all critics of his class recently, especially like Professor Huxley in +another division, he appears not to comprehend what, to the believers +in the supernatural, the supernatural means. He applies, as they all +apply, the tests of the natural, and says, "Now really, you know, +these tests are destructive." He says--he cannot prove--that miracles +do not happen now; his adversaries, if they were wise, would simply +answer, "_Après?_" Do any of them pretend to prescribe to their +God that His methods shall be always the same, or that those methods +shall stand the tests of the laboratory and the School of Charters? +that He shall give "a good title," like a man who is selling a house? +Some at least would rather not; they would feel appallingly little +interest in a Divinity after this sworn-attorney and +chartered-accountant fashion, who must produce vouchers for all His +acts. And further (to speak with reverence), the Divinity whom they +_do_ worship would be likely to answer Mr Arnold in the words of +a prophet of Mr Arnold's own-- + + "Du gleichst dem Geist den du begreifst, + Nicht Mir!" + +But this is not all. There is not only begging of the question but +ignoring of the issue. _Literature and Dogma_, to do it strict +justice, is certainly not, in intention at any rate, a destructive +book. It is meant, and meant very seriously, to be constructive--to +provide a substitute for the effete religion of Hooker and Wilson, of +Laud and Pusey, as well as for that of Baxter and Wesley and Mr Miall. +This new religion is to have for its Jachin Literature--that is to +say, a delicate æsthetic appreciation of all that is beautiful in +Christianity and out of it; and for its Boaz Conduct--that is to say, +a morality at least as rigid as that of the purest Judaism, though +more amiable. If dogma is to be banished, so is anything like licence; +and in the very book itself Mr Arnold formulated, against his once +(and still partly) beloved France, something like that denunciation of +her worship of Lubricity which he afterwards put more plainly still. +Even Hellenism, the lauded Hellenism, is told to mend its ways (indeed +there was need for it), and the Literature-without-Dogmatist will have +to behave himself with an almost Pharisaic correctness, though in +point of belief he is to be piously Sadducee. + +Now this is all very pretty and very creditable, but it will not work. +The goods, to use the vulgar but precise formula of English law, "are +not of the nature and quality demanded by the purchaser." Nobody wants +a religion of that sort. Conduct is good; poetic appreciation is +perhaps better, though not for the general. But then religion happens +to be something different from either, though no doubt closely +connected with both. Mr Arnold does not exactly offer us a stone for +bread, but he does, like the benevolent French princess in the story, +offer us pie-crust. Pie-crust is a good thing; it is a close +connection of bread; but it will not do for a substitute, and, in +addition, it is much more difficult for the general to obtain. +Moreover, there is a serious, a historical, difficulty about Conduct +_plus_ poetic appreciation, but _minus_ what we call religion. Mr +Arnold, in a stately sonnet, has told us that Sophocles was his ideal +as a life-philosopher who was also a poet. He knew, presumably, the +stories told about Sophocles in Athenæus, and though these might be +idle scandal, he knew far too much not to be aware that there is +nothing intrinsically impossible about them. It would have been rather +interesting to hear him fully on this subject. But he was too busy +with expatiating on the sweet reasonableness of Jesus and "the +_Aberglaube_ of the Second Advent" to trouble himself with awkward +matters of this kind at the moment. + +It may be suspected, however, that he did trouble himself with them, +or with something like them, afterwards. The book--a deliberate +provocation--naturally found plenty of respondents, though I do not +remember that any one smashed it, as, for instance, Dean Mansel could +have done if he had been alive, or as Cardinal Newman could, had he +been still in the fold. Mr Arnold was perhaps not less really +disquieted by its comparative popularity. For he had quite enough of +Phocion in him to feel, if not to say, that he must have said +something at least ambiguous, when the multitude applauded. At any +rate, though the ill-omened series did not cease, nothing further +appeared in it which showed the tone of _Literature and Dogma_. +Indeed, of the concluding volumes, _God and the Bible_ and +_Last Essays on Church and Religion_, the first is an elaborate +and rather anxious apology, and the second a collection of diverse and +comparatively "anodyne" essays. It is significant--as showing how much +of the success of _Literature and Dogma_ had been a success of +scandal--that neither of these volumes enjoyed the least popularity. +_God and the Bible_ was never reprinted till the popular edition +of the series thus far in 1884; and _Last Essays_ was never +reprinted at all, or had not been up to the date of the invaluable +_Bibliography_ of the works. Indeed the copies now, 1899, on sale +appear to be of the first edition. This cool reception does not +discredit either Barbarians or Philistines or Populace. There are good +things in the _Last Essays_ (to which we shall return), but the +general effect of them is that of a man who is withdrawing from a +foray, not exactly beaten, but unsuccessful and disgusted, and is +trying to cover his retreat by alarums and excursions. + +_God and the Bible_ tells much the same tale. It originally +appeared by instalments in the _Contemporary Review_, where it +must have been something of a choke-pear even for the readers of that +then young and thoughtful periodical. Unless the replier has the +vigour of Swift, or at least of Bentley, the adroitness in fence of +Pascal, or at least of Voltaire, "replies, duplies, quadruplies" are +apt to be wofully tedious reading, and Mr Arnold was rather a +_veles_ than a _triarius_ of controversy. He could harass, +but he did not himself stand harassing very well; and here he was not +merely the object of attacks from all sides, but was most uneasily +conscious that, in some cases at least, he did not wish his enemies to +destroy each other. He had absolutely no sympathy with the rabid +anti-Christianity of Clifford, very little with the mere agnosticism +of Huxley; he wanted to be allowed to take just so much Biblical +criticism as suited him and no more. He wished to prove, in his own +remarkable way, the truth and necessity of Christianity, and to this +wish the contradictions of sinners were too manifold. One must be +stony-hearted not to feel some pity for him, as, just when he thinks +he has evaded an orthodox brick, the tile of a disbeliever in the +Fourth Gospel whizzes at him; or as, while he is trying to patch up +his romantic reconstructions of imaginary Jewish history and religion, +the push of some aggressive reviewer bids him make good his challenge +to metaphysical theologians. But this interest is only passing. + +In the Preface there is indeed some of the old attempt at liveliness. +Professor Clifford himself, then dead, is disposed of with a not +ungraceful mixture of pity and satire; Messrs Moody and Sankey are not +unpleasantly rallied; Satan and Tisiphone, Mr Ruskin and Sir Robert +Phillimore, once more remind one of the groves of Blarney or the more +doubtful chorus in the _Anti-Jacobin_. But the apologist is not +really light-hearted: he cannot keep the more solemn part of his +apologia out of the Preface itself, and assures us that the story of +Adam's fall "is all a legend. It never really happened, any of it." +Again one asks Mr Arnold, as seriously as possible, "How _do_ you +know that? On your own calculus, with your own estimate of evidence, +how is it possible for you to know that? You may, on your principles, +say that you are insufficiently persuaded that it _did_ happen; +but how can you, without preternatural revelation (the very thing you +will not admit) say that it did _not?_ Surely there is some want +of intellectual seriousness in thus lightly ignoring every rule of law +and logic, of history and of common-sense?" + +But the embarrassment thus revealed naturally shows itself even more +in the book itself, notwithstanding the fact that Mr Arnold expressly +declines to reply to those who have attacked _Literature and +Dogma_ as anti-Christian and irreligious. Not even by summarily +banishing this not inconsiderable host can he face the rest +comfortably: and he has to resort to the strangest reasons of defence, +to the most eccentric invitation of reinforcements from afar. + +The strangest of all these, the clearest proof in itself of flurry and +sense of need, is exhibited in his summoning--of all wonderful things +--of Comparative Philology to the rescue of Literature. To rebut the +criticism on his denial of a Personal God, he takes refuge in the +ethnological meaning of Deus, which, it seems, is "Shining." The poor +plain mind, already staggered by Mr Arnold's private revelations as to +what did _not_ happen 6000 years ago (or earlier) in the garden +of Eden, quite succumbs before this privilegium of omniscience. One +had thought that the results of philology and etymology of this sort +were extremely ingenious guesses, to be admitted in so far as they do +not conflict with facts, and till the next guess comes, but nothing +more. Lo! they are quoted as if they were on a par with "two and two +make four," or the law of Excluded Middle. We may not take Moses and +the prophets without proof, but Curtius and Professor Max Müller may +speak, and we must but hear. And later, when Mr Arnold is trying to +cope with Descartes, he flies for refuge to "the roots _as_, _bhu_, +and _sta_." + +One is tempted rather to laugh at this; but on some sides it is very +serious. That no God of any religion can be more of a mere hypothesis +than _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_, never seems to have occurred to +Mr Arnold for one moment, nor that he was cutting the throat of his +own argument. We must not, however, fall into his own mistake and +quadruplicate to his duply. It may be sufficient to say that the long +defence of the Fourth Gospel which this book contains is one of the +oddest things in all literature. What, on Mr Arnold's principles, it +matters whether the Fourth Gospel was written in the first century, +the fourth, or the fourteenth, it is impossible for the poor plain +mind to see. He will not have it as revelation, and as anything else +its date is quite immaterial. + +The fact is that this severe censor of "learned pseudo--science mixed +with popular legend," as he terms theology, appears to have no idea of +the value of evidence whatever. The traditional history of the Bible +is not even to be considered; but a conjectural reconstruction of it +by a Dutch critic, without in the older cases one jot or tittle of +evidence outside the covers of the Bible itself, deserves every +respect, if not reverent acceptance _en bloc_. Miracles are +fictions, and the scenes in the garden of Eden and at the Sepulchre +never happened; but _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_ are very solemn +facts, and you can find out all about the Divinity, because the word +Deus means (not "has been guessed to mean," but _means_) +"Shining." That Shakespeare knew everything is much more certain than +that miracles do not happen; and he certainly knew Mr Arnold's case if +not Mr Arnold, when he introduced a certain main episode in _A +Midsummer Night's Dream_. To frown on Oberon and caress Bottom is +venial compared with the dismissal of the Bible as popular legend, and +the implicit belief in _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_. + +A wilfully hostile historian of Mr Arnold could not dwell too long on +these unfortunate books, for the handles they present are infinite; +but for my part I shall take leave to say little more about them. To +ask, in the common phrase, whether they did any harm would be to beg +the question in their own manner; to ask whether they produced any +effect would lead us too far. They certainly expressed a prevalent +tendency. Most fortunately Mr Arnold was allowed another ten years and +more wherein to escape from the wilderness which yielded these Dead +Sea fruits, and to till his proper garden once more. Yet we have not +quite done with the other fruits themselves. + +The actual finale, _Last Essays on Church_ and _Religion_, +was still less popular, was indeed the least popular of all his works, +seeing that, as has been said above, it has never been reprinted. It +is easy to understand this, for it is perhaps the only one of his +books which can be definitely called dull. The apologetic tone +noticeable in _God and the Bible_ continues, but the apology is +illustrated and maintained in an even less attractive manner. The +Preface is perhaps the least dead part of the book; but its line of +argument shares, and perhaps even exaggerates, the controversial +infelicity of this unfortunate series. Mr Arnold deals in it at some +length with the comments of two foreign critics, M. Challemel-Lacour +and Signor de Gubernatis, on _Literature and Dogma_, bringing out +(what surely could have been no news to any but very ill-educated +Englishmen) the fact of their surprise, not at his taking the Bible +with so little seriousness, but at his taking it with any seriousness +at all. And he seems never even to dream of the obvious retort: +"Certainly. These men are at any rate 'thorough'; they are not +dilettante dalliers between two opinions. They have got far beyond +your half-way house and have arrived at their destination. We have no +desire to arrive at the destination, and therefore, if you will excuse +us, we decline to visit the half-way house." It is less surprising +that he did not see the force of the objections of another critic, M. +Maurice Vernes, to the equally illogical and unhistorical plan of +arbitrarily selecting this utterance as that of "Jesus," and another, +given by the same authority, as not that of "Jesus." A man, who was +sensible of this paralogism, could never take Mr Arnold's views on +Church and Religion at all. + +But when we leave the Preface, even such faint liveliness as this +deserts us. The text contains four (or five, the second being divided +into two parts) essays, lectures, or papers, _A Psychological +Parallel_, _Bishop Butler and the Zeit-Geist_, The Church of England_, +and _A Last Word on the Burials Bill_. All had appeared in +_Macmillan's Magazine_ or the _Contemporary Review_ during +1876, while _Bishop Butler_ had been delivered as two lectures at +Edinburgh, and _The Church of England_ as an address to the +London Clergy at Sion College, during the spring of that year. + +Over all there is a curious constraint, the evidence of a mood not +very difficult to analyse, and in the analysis of which lies almost +all the satisfaction or edification to be got out of the book. The +writer, though by no means abandoning his own point of view, and even +flattering himself that some _modus vivendi_ is about to be +established between himself and the more moderate supporters of the +Church and of religion, betrays not merely the well-known +self-excusing and self-accusing tone, but odd flashes of discontent +and weariness--nay, even a fretfulness such as might have been that of +a Moses at Rephidim who could not bring water out of the rock. _A +Psychological Parallel_ is an attempt to buttress the apologia by +referring to Sir Matthew Hale's views on witchcraft, to Smith, the +Cambridge Platonist and Latitudinarian, and to the _Book of +Enoch_ (of which, by the way, it is a pity that Mr Arnold did not +live to see Mr Charles's excellent translation, since he desiderated a +good one). Of course the argument is sun-clear. If Hale was mistaken +about witchcraft, St Paul may have been mistaken about the +Resurrection. Expressions attributed to Christ occur in the _Book of +Enoch_, therefore they are not original and divine, &c., &c. And it +would be out of place to attempt any reply to this argument, the reply +being in each case as sun-clear as the argument itself. No believer in +supernatural religion that I ever met considered Sir Matthew Hale to +have been inspired; and no believer in the divinity of Christ can fail +to hold that His adoption of words (if He did adopt them) makes them +His. + +The gist of the Butler lectures is considerably less clear, and, if +only for that reason, it cannot be succinctly stated or answered. In +particular, it requires rather careful "collection" in order to +discover what our friend the Zeit-Geist has to do in this galley. I +should imagine that, though an Edinburgh audience is by no means +alarmed at philosophy, the majority, perhaps the enormous majority, of +Mr Arnold's hearers must have had a singularly dim idea as to his +exact drift. Indeed I cannot say that after reading the piece when it +first appeared, and again, twenty years later, for the purposes of +this book, I have any very distinct notion of that drift myself. If it +merely means that Butler, being an eighteenth-century person, was +afflicted with the eighteenth-century limitations by the Zeit-Geist, +eighty-six pages, and an imposing German compound at the head of every +other one of them, seem a good deal for telling us this. If it is a +sort of indirect attack upon--an oblique demurrer to--Butler's +constructive-aggressive orthodoxy in psychology and religion, one is +bound to say with all politeness, first, that it is a case of _impar +congressus_, and secondly, that the adventurous knight does not +give himself a fair chance. It will take more than eighty-six not very +large pages, and a German word at the top of the alternate ones, to do +that! In the opening sketch of Butler himself Mr Arnold could not but +be agreeable and even delightful. It gives us, indeed, most pleasant +promise of work in this same good kind soon to follow; but for the +rest we grope till we find, after some seventy-three of the +eighty-six, that what Mr Arnold wanted to say is that Butler did not +handle, and could not then have handled, miracles and the fulfilment +of prophecy satisfactorily. Butler, like St Paul, is undoubtedly +inconvenient for those who believe that miracles do not happen, and +that prophecies were either not made or not fulfilled. So he must be +got rid of. But whether he is got rid of,--whether Mr Arnold and the +Zeit-Geist have put him on the shelf as a venerable but antiquated +object,--that is another question. + +The two remaining essays show us Mr Arnold, in his character of at +least would-be practical statesman, dealing no longer with points of +doctrine but with the affairs of the Church as a political body. The +circumstances of the first--the address delivered at Sion College--had +a certain piquancy: whether they had also sweet reasonableness and an +entire accordance with the fitness of things is a question no doubt +capable of being debated. Me the situation strikes, I must confess, as +a little grotesque. The layman in the wide sense, the amateur, always +occupies a rather equivocal position when he addresses experts and the +profession; but his position is never so equivocal as when he doubles +the part of non-expert with that of candid friend. How Mr Arnold +succeeded in this exceedingly delicate attempt I do not propose to +examine at any length. He thought himself that he had "sufficiently +marked the way in which the new world was to be reached." Paths to new +worlds are always interesting, but in reading, or rather re-reading, +the sailing directions of this Columbus twenty years after date, one +may be a little disappointed. The sum appears to be a somewhat +Tootsian declaration that things of general are of no consequence. The +Church is better than Dissent; at least she would be so if she dropped +all her dogma, the greater part of her superstitions about the rights +of property and "my duty to my neighbour," and as much as possible of +the barriers which separate her from Dissent itself. A most moderate +eirenicon. Still less need be said of the Burials Bill paper, which is +a sort of appendix or corollary to the Sion speech, at the end of +which the subject had been referred to. The particular question, in +this phase of it, has long ceased to burn, and one need not disturb +the ashes. + +We must now turn to the incursions of this time into politics, which, +if not much happier, were more amusing. The chief monument of them is +the long unreprinted _Friendship's Garland_, which has always had +some fervent devotees, and is very characteristic. It so happened that +the period when _Essays in Criticism_, combined with his Oxford +Lectures, introduced Mr Arnold to the public, was the period of the +first years of the _Pall Mall Gazette_, when that brilliant +periodical, with the help of many of the original staff of the +_Saturday Review_, and others, was renewing for the sixties the +sensation of a new kind of journalism, which the _Saturday_ +itself had given to the fifties, while its form and daily appearance +gave it even greater opportunities. As early as the summer of 1866, +during the agitation into which the public mind had been thrown by the +astounding rapidity and thoroughness of the Prussian successes in the +Seven Weeks' War, Mr Arnold had begun a series of letters, couched in +the style of _persiflage_, which Kinglake had introduced, or +reintroduced, twenty years earlier in _Eothen_, and which the +_Saturday_ had taken up and widely developed. He also took not a +few hints from Carlyle in _Sartor_ and the _Latterday +Pamphlets_. And for some years at intervals, with the help of a +troupe of imaginary correspondents and _comparses_--Arminius von +Thundertentronckh, Adolescens Leo of the _Daily Telegraph_, the +Bottles family of wealthy Dissenters, with cravings for their deceased +wife's sisters, as well as a large number of more or less celebrated +personages of the day, introduced in their proper persons, and by +their proper names--he instructed England on its own weakness, folly, +and vulgarity, on the wisdom and strength of the Germans, on the +importance of _Geist_ and ideas, &c., &c. The author brought +himself in by name as a simple inhabitant of Grub Street, victimised, +bullied, or compassionately looked down upon by everybody; and by this +well-known device took licence for pretty familiar treatment of other +people. When the greater crash of 1870 came, and the intelligent +British mind was more puzzled, yet more _Prusso-mimic_, than +ever, he supplemented these letters, framed or bound them up, as it +were, with a moving account of the death of Arminius before Paris, and +launched the whole as a book. + +The letters had been much laughed over; but I do not think the book +was very widely bought--at any rate, its very high price during the +time in which it was out of print shows that no large number was +printed. Perhaps this cold welcome was not altogether so discreditable +to the British public as it would have been, had its sole cause been +the undoubted but unpalatable truths told by the writer. Either, as +some say, because of its thick-hidedness, or, as others, because of +its arrogant self-sufficiency, the British public has never resented +these much. But, in the first place, the thing was a falsetto. Mr +Arnold had plenty of wit but not much humour; and after a time one +feels that Bottles and Leo & Co. may be, as Dousterswivel says, "very +witty and comedy," but that we should not be altogether sorry if they +would _go_. Further, the direct personalities--the worst +instances concerned Lord Elcho, Mr Frederic Harrison, and the late Mr +Sala--struck, and strike, some people as being not precisely in good +taste. The constant allusions and references to minor and ephemeral +things and persons were not of course then unintelligible, but they +were even then teasing, In all these points, if _Friendship's +Garland_ be compared, I will once more not say with _A Tale of a +Tub_, but even with the _History of John Bull_, its weakness +will come out rather strongly. + +But this was not all. It was quite evident--and it was no shame and no +disadvantage to him--that the jester was endeavouring to urge a very +serious earnest behind, and by means of, his jest; that he was no mere +railer, or caviller, or even satirist, but a convinced reformer and +apostle. Yet when we try to get at his programme--at his gospel--there +is no vestige of anything tangible about either. Not very many +impartial persons could possibly accept Mr Arnold's favourite +doctrine, that the salvation of the people lies in state-provided +middle-class schools; and this was specially difficult in 1871, if +they remembered how some few years before Mr Arnold had been extolling +the state-provided middle-class schools of France. While, for the +rest, a man might be (as many men were) thoroughly dissatisfied with +the part England had played abroad in Italy, in the American Civil +War, in Denmark, in the war of 1866, in the war of 1870, and at home +from 1845 onwards, and yet not be able for the life of him to discover +any way of safety in _Friendship's Garland_. + +Nor, to take with the _Garland_ for convenience sake _Irish +Essays_, 1882, the political book which closed this period with the +political book that opened it, do we find things much better, even +long after "the Wilderness" had been mostly left behind. There is +indeed less falsetto and less flippancy; perhaps Mr Arnold had +silently learnt a lesson, perhaps the opportunities of regular essays +in "three-decker" reviews--of a lay sermon to working men, of a speech +at the greatest public school in the world--discouraged the +playfulness which had seemed permissible in addressing a skittish +young evening newspaper. But the unpracticalness--not in the +Philistine but in the strictly scientific sense--is more glaring than +ever, and there are other faults with it. Great part of _An +Unregarded Irish Grievance_ is occupied by a long-drawn-out +comparison of England's behaviour to Ireland with that of Mr Murdstone +and his friend and manager Quinion to David Copperfield. In the first +place, one thinks wickedly of the gibe in _Friendship's Garland_ +about "Mr Vernon Harcourt developing a system of unsectarian religion +from the life of Mr Pickwick." In the second, one asks on what +principles of literary art a comparison, not wholly improper as a mere +illustration in passing, can be worked to death and turned inside out +and upside down, for some twenty mortal pages. + +And so in other places. Yet the worst faults are not in form but in +substance. Minor contradictions do not matter, though in a copy of the +book I have read there is a damaging comparison by some annotator +between Mr Arnold's description of English Government at p. 4 and his +rosy picture of education under Government at p. 107. This might +happen to anybody, and is not fatal. What is fatal is that this censor +of the "unideaed" has evidently himself no "ideas," no first +principles, in politics at all. That, play what tricks you will, all +possible politics come round either to the Rule of the One, the Rule +of the Few, or the Rule of the Many, and that the consequences of +these rules, differentiated a little but not materially by historical +and racial characteristics, are as constant as anything commonly +called scientific,--this never seems to have occurred to Mr Arnold at +all. He did not fully appreciate Thackeray, and Thackeray died too +soon to know very much of him. But I have always thought that, for a +criticism of life possessing prophetic genius, the Chevalier Strong's +wedding congratulations to Arthur Pendennis are almost uncanny as +regards the Matthæan gospel. "Nothing," said the Chevalier, when he +had established himself as agent to the Duke of Garbanzos, "is so +important to the welfare of the household as _Good Sherry_." And +so we find that the Irish question, like all others, will be solved by +the substitution of State-governed for private middle-class schools, +by the saturation of England with "ideas," by all our old friends. + +The rest matches. Mr Arnold pooh-poohs the notion that Ireland, except +by force, will never be blended with England; it would be as sensible +to say this "of Scotland, Wales, or Cornwall." He was not, I think, +dead--he was certainly not dead long--when Wales actually did follow, +less formidably, of course, in the path of Ireland, beginning with the +Church, going on to the Land, and not distantly threatening the State. +As usual he goes to his books. He quotes Goethe--a great man of +letters, but perhaps the most pedantic of great men of letters except +Milton--to prove that "the English are pedants." He quotes Burke--the +unregenerate Irish Whig Burke, not the prophet whose tongue the French +Revolution had touched as it opened his eyes--to tell us what to do +with Ireland. But the main point in at least one of these essays, _The +Incompatibles_, is again connected with _David Copperfield_. I have +said that, from the merely literary point of view, the perpetual +ringing of the changes on Creakle, Murdstone, Quinion--Quinion, +Murdstone, Creakle--is inartistic and irritating. But from the +philosophical and political point of view it is far worse. No +Englishman with any sense of fact ever has taken, or could take, +Dickens's characters as normal types. They are always fantastic +exaggerations, full of genius occasionally, but as unlike actual +reality as those illustrations by Cruikshank which are their nearest +companions in the art of line. Of the three figures selected in +particular, Creakle is a caricature; Murdstone, though not exactly +that, is a repulsive exception; and Quinion is so mere a _comparse_ or +"super" that to base any generalisation on him is absurd. The dislike +of the British public to be "talked book to" may be healthy or +unhealthy; but if it takes no great heed of this kind of talking book, +small blame to it! The same hopeless, not to say the same wilful, +neglect of the practical appears throughout. Mr Arnold (to his credit +be it said) had no great hopes of the Land Bill of 1881. But his own +panaceas--a sort of Cadi-court for "bag-and-baggaging" bad landlords, +and the concurrent endowment of Catholicism--were, at least, no +better, and went, if it were possible, even more in the teeth of +history. + +It may be worth while (taking the usual chronological licence for the +sake of logical coherence) to say a few words on the other political +and quasi-political pieces reprinted with _Irish Essays_--the address +to Ipswich working men, _Ecce Convertimur ad Gentes_, the Eton speech +on _Eutrapelia_, and the ambitious _Future of Liberalism_[2] The first +is a curious but not very important appeal to the lower class to +educate the middle, with episodic praises of "equality," "academies," +and the like, as well as glances at a more extensive system of +"municipalisation," which, not to the satisfaction of everybody, has +come about since. The second contains some admirable remarks on +classical education, some still more admirable protests against +reading about the classics instead of reading the classics, and the +famous discourse on _Eutrapelia_, with its doctrine that "conduct is +three-fourths of life," its denunciation of "moral inadequacy," and +its really great indications of societies dying of the triumph of +Liberalism and Conservatism respectively. A discourse quite admirable +in intention, though if "heckling" had been in order on that occasion, +a sharp youth might have put Mr Arnold in some difficulty by asking +where the canons of "moral adequacy" are written. + +But _The Future of Liberalism_, which the Elizabethans would have +called a "cooling-card" after the Liberal triumph of 1880, exhibits +its author's political quiddity most clearly. Much that he says is +perfectly true; much of it, whether true or not, is, as Mr Weller +observes, "wery pretty." But the old mistake recurs of playing on a +phrase _ad nauseam_--in this case a phrase of Cobbett's (one of +the greatest of phrase-makers, but also one of the chief of the +apostles of unreason) about "the principles of Pratt, the principles +of Yorke." It was, of course, a capital _argumentum ad invidiam_, +and Mr Arnold frankly adopted it. He compared himself to Cobbett--a +compliment, no doubt; but one which, I fear, Cobbett, who hated +nothing so much as a university man, would not have appreciated. +Cobbett thought of nothing but the agricultural labourer's "full +belly"--at least this is how he himself put it; and it would have +enforced Mr Arnold's argument and antithesis had he known or dared to +use it. Mr Arnold thought of nothing but the middle classes' empty +mind. The two parties, as represented by the rather small Lord Camden +and the rather great Lord Hardwicke, cared for neither of these +things--so "the principles of Pratt, the principles of Yorke" comes in +as a refrain. To the average Briton quotation is no more argument +than, on higher authority, is blank verse. Still it might do for +ornament, if not for argument,--might help the lesson and point it at +least. So we turn to the lesson itself. This "Liberal of the future," +as Mr Arnold styles himself, begins, with orthodoxy if not with +philosophy, by warning the Tories off entirely. "They cannot really +profit the nation, or give it what it needs." Perhaps; but suppose we +ask for a little reason, just a ghost of a premiss or two for this +extensive conclusion? There is no voice, neither any that answers. And +then, the Tories dismissed with a wave to all but temporary oblivion +(they are to be allowed, it seems, to appear from time to time to +chasten Liberalism), our prophet turns to Liberalism itself. It ought +to promote "the humanisation of man in society," and it doesn't +promote this. Ah! what a blessed word is "humanisation," the very +equivalent, in syllables as in blessedness, of "Mesopotamia"! But when +for the considerable rest of the essay we try to find out what +humanisation _is_, why we find nothing but the old negative +impalpable gospel, that we must "_dis_materialise our upper +class, _dis_vulgarise our middle class, _dis_brutalise our +lower class." "Om-m-ject and sum-m-m-ject!" "om-m-ject and +sum-m-m-ject," in short, as that famous flash of Thomas Carlyle's +genius discovered and summarised Coleridge, and with Coleridge the +whole nineteenth century. A screed of jargon--a patter of +shibboleth--and that is all. Never a thought for this momentous +question--"May you not possibly--indeed most probably--in attempting +to remove what you choose to consider as the defects of these classes, +remove also what you acknowledge to be their virtues--the governing +faculty of the upper class, the conduct and moral health of the +middle, the force and vigour of the lower?" A momentous question +indeed, and one which, as some think, has _got_ something of an answer +since, and no comfortable one! + +I must apologise, and I do, for anything that may appear too polemical +in this chapter. But the circumstances of the case made it almost as +impossible, as it would have been uninteresting, to be merely +recitative and colourless; and Mr Arnold's own example gives ample +licence. In particular, any one who has had actual and close knowledge +of the actual progress of politics for many years may be pardoned for +speaking with some decision on the practice of sitting at ease in +Zion, and raying out curious observations on Barbarians and Eutrapelia +and the character of Mr Quinion. We may have too little of such things +in English politics--no doubt for a good many years before Mr Arnold's +day we _had_ too little of them. But too much, though a not +unpopular, is a very clumsy and very unscientific antidote to too +little; and in Mr Arnold's own handling of politics, I venture to +think that there was too much of them by a very great deal. + +It is very pleasant to turn from the literary results of this period, +from the spectacle of Pegasus + + "Stumbling in miry roads of alien art," + +and harnessing himself to all manner of unsuitable vehicles, to the +private history of the decade. This, though sadly chequered by Mr +Arnold's first domestic troubles, was on the whole prosperous, was +somewhat less laborious than the earlier years, and was lightened by +ever more of the social and public distractions, which no man entirely +dislikes, and which--to a certain extent and in a certain way--Mr +Arnold did not dislike at all. The changes of occupation and of +literary aim by the termination of the professorship coincided, as +such things have a habit of doing, with changes in place and +circumstance. The Chester Square house grew too small for the +children, and a move to Harrow was first meditated and then achieved. +A very pleasant letter to his mother, in November 1867, tells how he +was present at the farewell dinner to Dickens on his departure for +America, how they wanted him (vainly) to come to the high table and +speak, and how Lord Lytton finally brought him into his own speech. He +adds that some one has given him "a magnificent box of four hundred +Manilla cheroots" (he must surely have counted wrong, for they usually +make these things in two-hundred-and-fifties or five-hundreds), +welcome to hand on, though he did not smoke himself. In another he +expresses the evangelical desire to "do Mr Swinburne some good." + +But in January 1868 his baby-child Basil died; and the intense family +affection, which was one of his strongest characteristics, suffered of +course cruelly, as is recorded in a series of touching letters to his +sister and mother. He fell and hurt himself at Cannon Street, too, but +was comforted by his sister with a leading case about an illiterate +man who fell into a reservoir through not reading a notice. The Harrow +house became a reality at Lady Day, and at Midsummer he went to stay +at Panshanger, and "heard the word 'Philistine' used a hundred times +during dinner and 'Barbarian' nearly as often" (it must be remembered +that the "Culture and Anarchy" articles were coming out now). This +half-childish delight in such matters (like Mr Pendennis's "It's all +in the papers, and my name too!") is one of the most fascinating +things about him, and one of not a few, proving that, if there was +some affectation, there was no dissimulation in his nature. Too many +men, I fear, would have said nothing about them, or assumed a lofty +disdain. In September he mentions to Mr Grant Duff a plan (which one +only wishes he had carried out, letting all the "Dogma" series go +[Greek: kat ouron] as it deserved) for "a sketch of Greek poetry, +illustrated by extracts in harmonious prose." This would have been one +of the few great literary histories of the world, and so Apollo kept +it in his own lap. The winter repeated, far more heavily, the domestic +blow of the spring, and Tom, his eldest son, who had always been +delicate, died, aged sixteen only, at Harrow, where since the removal +he had been at school. There is something about this in the +_Letters_; but on the great principle of _curæ leves_, less, +as we should expect, than about the baby's death. + +In February next year Mr Arnold's double repute, as a practical and +official "educationist" and as a man of letters, brought him the offer +of the care of Prince Thomas of Savoy, son of the Duke of Genoa, and +grandson of Victor Emmanuel, who was to attend Harrow School and board +with the Arnolds. The charge, though honourable and, I suppose, +profitable, might not have been entirely to the taste of everybody; +but it seemed to Mr Arnold a new link with the Continent, and he +welcomed it. The same year saw a visit to Knebworth, and a very +interesting and by no means unsound criticism on that important event +in the life of a poet, the issue of the first collected edition of his +poems.[3] This was in two volumes, and is now rather precious. "It +might be fairly urged that I have less poetic sentiment than Tennyson, +and less intellectual vigour and abundance than Browning; yet because +I have perhaps more of a fusion of the two than either of them, and +have more regularly applied that fusion to the main line of modern +development, I am likely enough to have my turn." One can only query +whether poetry has anything to do with "modern development," and +desiderate the addition to "sentiment" of "art." He seems to imply +that Mr Gladstone personally prevented his appointment to a +commissionership under the Endowed Schools Act. But the year ended +with a complimentary reference from Mr Disraeli at Latimers about +"Sweetness and Light." + +In February 1870 the famous Persian cat Atossa (now in the most +comfortable lap of all the gods or goddesses, with Hodge and Bona +Marietta and Hinse of Hinsfeldt) makes her first appearance; and in +June Mr Arnold received the Oxford D.C.L. He set it down to "a young +and original sort of man, Lord Salisbury, being Chancellor"; and Lord +Salisbury himself afterwards told him that "no doubt he ought to have +addressed him as 'vir dulcissime et lucidissime.'" But though he was +much pleased by his reception, he thought Lord Salisbury "dangerous," +as being unliterary, and only scientific and religious in his tastes. + +In December he had an amusing and (as it ended well) not +unsatisfactory experience of the ways of Income Tax Commissioners. +These gentlemen acted on even vaguer principles than those on which +they once assessed a poor dramatic amateur, who had by accident +received £6 "author's rights" for a week, at £300 per annum, on the +sound arithmetical argument that there are fifty (indeed, there are +fifty-two) weeks in a year, and that fifty times six is three hundred. +They put Mr Arnold's literary profits at £1000, and he had to +expostulate in person before they would let him down to £200, though +he pathetically explained that "he should have to write more articles +than he ever had done" to prevent his being a loser even at that. +About the catastrophe of the _Année Terrible_, his craze for +"righteousness" makes him a very little Pecksniffian--one thinks of +the Tower of Siloam. But it is pleasant to hear that, early in 1871, +they are arranging for him "a perfect district, Westminster and a +small rural part near Harrow." So one hopes that the days of posting +from shire to shire and subsisting on buns were over. He is interested +about Deutsch (the comet of a season for his famous Talmud articles), +receives the Commandership of the Crown of Italy for his services to +Prince Thomas, and is proposed for the Middlesex magistracy, but (to +one's sorrow) declines. There is fishing at Chenies (_vide_ an +admirable essay of Mr Froude's) in the early summer, a visit to +Switzerland in the later, and in September "the pigs are grown very +large and handsome, and experts advise their conversion into bacon." +But Mrs Arnold "does not like the idea." Indeed this is the drawback +of pig-keeping, which is otherwise a most fascinating pastime; but you +can escape it, and unite pleasure with profit, by merely breeding the +pigs and selling the litters young. + +After this respite fate was again cruel. On February 16, 1872, Mr +Arnold's second son died at Harrow, and again the reception of the +blow and its effect are marked by lesser voicefulness in the grief. +Yet one phrase, "I cannot write his name without stopping to look at +it in stupefaction at his not being alive," is equal to volumes. The +letters of this year are few, but in September begins a correspondence +of some interest and duration with a French pastor, M. Fontanès. Nor +does 1873 give much except description of a tour to Italy, while in +May the Arnolds moved from Harrow, with its painful memories, to +Cobham, which was Mr Arnold's home for the rest of his life. In +September he "shoots worse than ever" (_vide_ _Friendship's +Garland_) in the famous preserves of Six Mile Bottom, and soon +after his mother dies. But it is not given to all men not to be +motherless till they themselves are fifty. And 1874 is again rather +barren, even such yield as it gives being rather didactic and +controversial, as for instance in a letter to his sister, who had +apparently remonstrated with some vigour against the tone of +_Literature and Dogma_. A pleasant letter to Miss Kingsley on her +father's death (1875) puts in good evidence against the charge of +grudging appreciation of contemporaries which has often been brought +against Mr Arnold, and which some unguarded expressions, rather +injudiciously published in other letters, may seem to confirm. + +Another in December contains an instance[4] of that dislike to +history, which long before its publication careful students of his +works had always noticed in him. The fact is, that to a man of ideas, +as Mr Arnold would have liked to be called--a man of theories or of +crotchets, as in extending order of unkindness people actually did +call him--history must be an annoying study. The things that ought to +happen do not happen, and the things that do happen have to be +awkwardly explained away or hazardously ignored His almost pettish +disgust for the historic estimate in literature itself may have either +caused or been caused by this more general dislike, and the dislike +itself explains the leniency with which he always regarded the sheer +guess-work of the Biblical critics. But it is possible to sympathise +with his disapproval of the divorce of History and Law, which used to +be united in the Oxford schools. Together they made a discipline, +inferior indeed, but only inferior, to that of the great school of +_Literæ Humaniores_, the best intellectual training in the world. +When they are divided, it may be feared that law becomes a mere +technicality, if not a mere bread-study, and that history is at once +thin and vague. + +But Clio must have made interest with Nemesis; for, but a page or two +afterwards, this disregard of history leads Mr Arnold into a very odd +blunder. His French friend, M. Fontanès, had thought of writing about +Godwin, but Mr Arnold dissuades him. "Godwin," he says, "est +intéressant, mais il n'est pas une source; des courants actuels qui +nous portent, aucun ne vient de lui." Godwin is the high priest of +Anarchism; he is our first Socialist philosopher, he advocated no +marriage, woman's rights, the abolition of religion. And _dans nos +courants actuels rien ne vient de lui!_ This was early in 1876, and +later in the same year we have from him the singular judgment that +George Sand, just dead, was "the greatest spirit in our European world +from the time that Goethe departed." The chronicle may be +appropriately closed for the time by mentioning that in the spring of +1877 Mr Arnold was approached with a view to his standing once more +for the Poetry Chair, and declined. The invitation, however, was a +sort of summons to him to go back to his proper work, and in effect, +though doubtless not in intention, he had already obeyed it. "A French +Critic on Milton," published in January 1877, is the first literary +article of any importance that his bibliography records for the whole +decade which we have surveyed in this chapter. + +_Note._--It is particularly unlucky that the _Prose +Passages_, which the author selected from his works and published +in 1879, did not appear later. It is almost sufficient to say that +less than one-fourth of their contents is devoted to literature, all +the rest to the "Dead Sea fruit." I have therefore said nothing about +the book in the text. It is, however, a useful though incomplete and +one-sided chrestomathy of Mr Arnold's style from the formal point of +view, illustrating both his minor devices of phrase and the ingenious +_ordonnance_ of his paragraphs in building up thought and +statement. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Mr Disraeli's words (in 1864) have been referred to above (p. +100). They were actually: "At that time [when they had met at Lord +Houghton's some seven or eight years earlier] ... you yourself were +little known. Now you are well known. You have made a reputation, but +you will go further yet. You have a great future before you, and you +deserve it." Crabb Robinson was a much older acquaintance, and is +credited, I believe, with the remark far earlier, that "he shouldn't +_dare_ to be intimate" with so clever a young man as Matthew +Arnold. Very shortly before his death in February 1867, he had met Mr +Arnold in the Athenæum, and asked "which of all my books I should +myself name as the one that had got me my great reputation. I said I +had not a great reputation, upon which he answered: 'Then it is some +other Matthew Arnold who writes the books.'" The passage, which +contains an odd prophecy of the speaker's own death, and an +interesting indication that Mr Arnold rightly considered the +_Essays_ to be "the book that got him his reputation," will be +found in _Letters_, i. 351. + +[2] Of the remaining contents, the _Prefaces_ of 1853-5 are +invaluable, at least the first is, but this has been already noticed. +Of _The French Play in London_, I am, perhaps, no good judge, as I +take little interest in the acted drama. It is much occupied with the +inferiority of French poetry, and especially of the poetry of Hugo; +the inferiority of English civilisation, especially of the middle +class. There are good things in it, but they are better said +elsewhere. The rest needs no notice. + +[3] A note on the contents of this and the subsequent collected +editions may not be unwelcome; for, as was always the case with him, +he varied them not a little. This first collection was advertised as +comprehending "the First and Second Series of the Author's Poems and +the New Poems," but as a matter of fact half-a-dozen pieces--including +things as interesting as _A Dream_ and _Stagirius_--are omitted, +though the fine _In Utrumque Paratus_ reappears for the first time as +a consolation. As reprinted in 1877, this collection dropped _The +Church of Brou_ except the third part, and recovered not only +_Stagirius_ and others but _The New Sirens_, besides giving, for the +first time in book-form, _Haworth Churchyard_, printed twenty-two +years before in _Fraser_. A further reprint in 1881 restored the whole +_Church of Brou_ and _A Dream_, and gave two or three small additions, +especially _Geist's Grave_. The _three-volume_ edition of 1885 also +republished _Merope_ for the first time, and added _Westminster Abbey_ +and _Poor Matthias_. The _one_-volume edition of 1890 reproduced all +this, adding _Horatian Echo_ and _Kaiser Dead_; it is complete save +for the two prize poems, and six or seven smaller pieces. + +[4] "I do not like the course for the History School at all; nothing +but read, read, read, endless histories in English, many of them by +quite second-rate men; nothing to form the mind as reading really +great authors forms it, or even to exercise it as learning a new +language, or mathematics, or one of the natural sciences exercises +it." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +THE LAST DECADE. + +It would be unhistorical to assert, and unphilosophical to assume, +that in the change or reversion noted at the end of the last chapter, +Mr Arnold had any consciousness of relinquishment, still more to hint +any definite sense of failure on his part. He would probably have said +(if any one had been impertinent enough to ask, and he had +condescended to reply) that he had said his say, had shot his bolt, +and might leave them to produce their effect. But that there was, if +no repentance, a certain disgust, I cannot but believe. He must have +seen--he almost acknowledges that he saw--that the work which he at +least thought was conservative was being utilised by others in a +purely destructive spirit; he must have found himself in very +unwelcome alliances; and (which is worst of all to a delicate and +sensitive spirit) he must constantly have found fools dotting his +_i_'s and emphasising his innuendoes in their own clumsy and +Philistine fashion. At any rate, it is purely historical to say that +he did henceforward almost entirely change his main line of operation +as to religious matters, and that though, as has been shown, he +persisted, not too fortunately, in politics, his method of discussion +in that likewise was altered. As we heard no more of the three Lord +Shaftesburys, so Bottles and his unwelcome society were permitted to +remain unchronicled. In the latter department seriousness came upon Mr +Arnold; in the former, if not a total, yet a general and certainly +most welcome silence. + +Most welcome: for he was voiceful enough on other and his proper +subjects. "Falkland," which followed "A French Critic on Milton," in +March in the _Fortnightly_, and "George Sand," which followed it, +as has been said, in June in the _Nineteenth Century_, somewhat +deserved the title (_Mixed Essays_) of the volume in which they +were two years later reprinted. But the last essay of the year 1877, +that on Mr Stopford Brooke's _Primer_, was, like the "French +Critic," and even more than that, pure literature. "A French Critic on +Goethe," which appeared in the _Quarterly Review_ for January +1878, followed next. The other pieces of this year, which also, with +one exception, appeared in _Mixed Essays_, were, with that +exception, evidences of a slight but venial relapse, or let us say of +convalescence not yet quite turned into health. "Equality" +(_Fortnightly_, March 1878), "Irish Catholicism and British +Liberalism" (_Fortnightly_, July 1878), and "Porro Unum est +Necessarium" (_Fortnightly_, November 1878), were, if not of "the +utmost last provincial band," yet not of the pure Quirites, the +genuine citizens of the sacred city of Mr Arnold's thought: and he +seceded from this latter in not a few of those estimable but +unimportant Irish essays which have been noticed in the last chapter. + +But the literary contents of _Mixed Essays_ are very interesting, +and the Johnson paper (really a preface to the six selected lives, +which he edited for Messrs Macmillan in 1878) is a most excellent +piece of work. His selection of the Lives is perhaps not quite +unerring. For he ought surely to have given the "Cowley," with its +(from his own point of view) invaluable _point de repère_ in the +estimate of the "metaphysicals." And he might have missed the "Swift," +which, though extremely interesting as a personal study from its +mixture of prejudice and constraint, its willingness to wound, and +yet--not its fear but--its honest compunction at striking, is, for the +purpose of the volume, misplaced. But he had a right to give what he +chose: and his preface has points of the very highest value. The +opening passage about the _point de repère_ itself, the fixed +halting-place to which we can always resort for fresh starts, fresh +calculations, is one of the great critical _loci_ of the world, +and especially involves the main contribution of the nineteenth +century to criticism if not to literature altogether. We may exalt, +without very much doubt or dread, the positive achievements of the +century of Tennyson and Browning, of Carlyle and Thackeray, of Heine +and Hugo. But we have seen such strange revolutions in this respect +that it may not do to be too confident. The glory of which no man can +deprive our poor dying _siècle_ is that not one, of all the +others since history began, has taken such pains to understand those +before it, has, in other words, so discovered and so utilised the +value of _points de repère_. It may be that this value is, except +in the rarest cases, all that a critic can ever pretend to--that he +may be happy if, as few do, he reaches this. But in the formulation of +the idea (for he did much more than merely borrow it from the French) +Mr Arnold showed his genius, his faculty of putting + + "What oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed." + +And when a man does this in prose or in verse, in criticism or in +creation, he has his reward--a reward that no man can take away, even +if any one were disposed to try. + +As a whole, _Mixed Essays_ itself, which followed _Last Essays +on Church and Religion_ at an interval of two years, is an almost +immeasurably livelier book than its predecessor, and to some judgments +at least seems to excel that predecessor in solid value as much as in +the graces. "Mixed" is perhaps not a strictly accurate title, for the +volume consists of two halves, the contents of each of which are +homogeneous enough, but which have next to nothing to do with each +other. But even in the non-literary essays we are out of "The +Wilderness" in its worst sense. Most of the essays had, as has just +been shown, appeared in different periodicals, while "Equality" was +also delivered as a lecture during the years 1877 and 1878. The +exception was the paper called "Democracy," which he reprinted from +his first work on Foreign Schools in 1861, where it had appeared as an +Introduction. The juxtaposition is by no means uninteresting or +uninstructive, though perhaps it is not entirely favourable to the +idea of Mr Arnold's development as a _zoon politicon_. It has +been said before that his earliest political writing is a good deal +less fantastic and more sane than that of his middle period, and +though "the last of life for which the first was made" was now +restoring to him much of his power in this direction, yet he was +always much joined to idols in matters political. In grasp "Democracy" +does not quite come up to its rather ambitious title; and a moment's +thought will show why. In 1861 Democracy was a very academic subject. +All projects for further Parliamentary Reform had failed utterly in +England; and nobody dreamt of what the next five or six years would +bring. In France there was what looked like a crushing military +despotism: in other Continental countries the repression which had +followed the outbreaks of 1848-49 was only just being relaxed, or not +relaxed at all. American democracy had not had its second baptism of +Civil War. The favourite fancies about the respective _ethos_ of +aristocracy, of the middle-class, and of the lower do indeed appear, +but for the most part Mr Arnold confines himself to the simple +question of State interference, for which in his own subject of +education he was so anxious, and which he would gladly have seen +extended. It has been more than once remarked already that he may +justly be regarded as a politician of more seriousness than he has +here been represented as possessing, if espousing the cause of the +things which actually happen is taken as the criterion. For State +interference has grown and is growing every day. But then it may be +held--and as a matter of principle he would not himself have contested +it--that a man's politics should be directed, not by what he thinks +will happen, but by what he thinks ought to happen. And some of us, +while not in love by any means with the middle-class Liberal ideas of +1830-1860, think that the saving grace of that day that is dead was +precisely its objection to State interference. + +"Equality," which follows, and which starts what might be called at +the time of the book its contemporary interest, is much more +far-reaching and of greater curiosity; indeed, it may perhaps be held +to be the most curious, in a certain sense, of all its author's +writings, and to give, in a not fully satisfactory but suggestive +fashion, a key to his complex character which is supplied by no other +of his essays. That there was (in no silly or derogatory sense of an +often absurdly used word) a slightly un-English side to that +character, few acute judges would deny. But its results, in the +greater part of the works, are so diffused, and, as it were, +subterranean, that they are difficult to extract and concentrate. Here +we seem to get the spirit much nearer proof. For the Equality which Mr +Arnold here champions is not English but French equality; not +political and judicial equality before the law, but social equality +enforced by the law. He himself admits, and perhaps even a little +exaggerates, his attitude of _Athanasius contra mundum_ in this +respect, amassing with relish expressions, in the sense opposite to +his own, from such representative and yet essentially diverse +authorities as Lord Beaconsfield, Mr Gladstone, Sir Erskine May, Mr +Froude, and Mr Lowe. Against them he arrays Menander and George +Sand--a counter-championship not itself suggestive of Equality. This +may be "only his fun"--a famous utterance which it is never more +necessary to keep in mind than when speaking or writing of Mr Arnold, +for his fun, such as it was, was pervading, and occasionally rather +cryptic. But the bulk of the paper is perfectly serious. Social +equality, and its compulsory establishment by a law against free +bequest or by public opinion, these are his themes. He asserts that +the Continent is in favour of them; that the English colonies, +_ci-devant_ and actual, are in favour of them; that the Greeks were in +favour of them; that the Bible is in favour of them. He cites Mr +Hamerton as to the virtues of the French peasant. He renews his old +tilt at the manners of the English lower-middle class, at Messrs Moody +and Sankey, at the great "Jingo" song of twenty years ago (as to +which, by the way, a modern Fletcher of Saltoun might have something +to say to-day), at the Puritans, at Mr Goldwin Smith, at many things +and many persons. + +I feel that history has given me at the moment rather an unfair +advantage over Mr Arnold here. One could always pick plenty of holes +in "Equality," could suggest that the Greeks did not make such a very +good thing of it with their equality (which included slavery); that +the Biblical point is far from past argument; that M. Zola, for +instance, supplies an interesting commentary on Mr Hamerton's +rose-coloured pictures of the French peasantry; that whatever Mr +Arnold's own lot may have been, others who have lived in small French +towns with the _commis voyageur_ have not found his manners so +greatly superior to those of the English bagman. But just at this +moment, and, in fact, in an increasing degree ever since Mr Arnold +wrote, the glorification of France has become difficult or impossible. +Sir Erskine May, it seems, had warned him in vain about the political +effect of French Equality even at that time: but one need not confine +oneself to politics. At the end of the nineteenth century France has +enjoyed the blessings of social equality, enforced by compulsory +division of estates, for a hundred years and more. Perhaps equality +has nothing to do with the decadence of her literature, with that +state of morals which Mr Arnold himself deplored with almost Puritan +emphasis, with the state of religion which he holds up as an awful +example, fit to warn England to flee to the refuge of his own +undogmatic _Nephelococcygia_, with the ineffable scandals of +Panama and the Dreyfus case, with the mixture of blind illucidity and +febrile passion which characterises the French press. Only, what is +left? Where are the improvements due to this great influence? They +are, according to Mr Arnold, in the amiable dignity of the French +peasant and the polished refinement of the French middle-class. +Frankly, one may prefer Hodge and Bottles. + +"Irish Catholicism and British Liberalism" has less actuality, and, +moreover, it belongs to a group of which enough has been said in +reference to the _Irish Essays_. But "Porro Unum est Necessarium" +possesses not merely an accidental but a real claim to fresh +attention, not merely at the moment when there is at last some chance +of the dream of Mr Arnold's life, the interference of the State in +English secondary education, being realised, but because it is one of +the expressions of that dream which was in his life so important. It +consists partly of statistics and partly of a moan over the fact that, +in the heat and heyday of Mr Gladstone's _levée en masse_ against +the Tory Government of 1874-80, the Liberal programme contained +nothing about this darling object. And the superiority of France is +trotted out again; but it would be cruel to insist any more. Yet at +last Mr Arnold becomes practical, and contends for pretty much the +substance of present Secondary Education Reform schemes--limited +inspection, qualification of masters, leaving certificates, &c. "It do +not over-stimulate," to quote an author to whom Mr Arnold was shortly +to devote much attention; but we leave the political or semi-political +batch in considerably greater charity with the author than his prose +volumes for years past had rendered possible. + +No reserves, no allowances of the least importance are necessary in +dealing with the rest of the volume. I do not think it fanciful to +discern a sort of involuntary or rather unconscious "Ouf!" of relief +in the first, the "Guide to English Literature," on the subject, as +has been said, of Mr Stopford Brooke's always excellent and then novel +_Primer_. A tribute to duty is, indeed, paid at starting: we are told +sternly that we must not laugh (as it is to be feared too many of us +did and do) at the famous boast of the French Minister, as to all the +boys in France learning the same lesson at the same hour. For this was +the result of State interference: and all the works of State +interference are blessing and blessed. But, this due rite paid, Mr +Arnold gives himself up to enjoyment, laudation, and a few +good-natured and, for the most part, extremely judicious proposals for +making the good better still. Even if this last characteristic were +not present, it would be unjust to call the article a puff. Besides, +are puffs so wholly bad? A man may be not very fond of sweets, and yet +think a good puff now and then, a puff with its three corners just hot +from the oven, full of jam, light, artistically frothed, to be a very +pleasing thing. And, as I have said, Mr Arnold's review is much more +than a puff. Once, indeed, there is even a hypercriticism, due to that +slight want of familiarity with literary history proper which has been +noticed more than once. Mr Arnold finds fault with Mr Brooke for +adopting, as one of his chapter divisions, "from the Restoration to +George III." He objects to this that "George III. has nothing to do +with literature," and suggests "to the Death of Pope and Swift." This +is a curious mistake, of a kind which lesser critics have often +repeated. Perhaps George III. _had_ nothing to do with literature; but +his accession immediately preceded, and may even, as the beginning of +a pure English _régime_, have done something to produce, numerous +appearances of the Romantic revival--Percy's _Reliques_, Hurd's +_Essays_, Macpherson's _Ossian_, _The Castle of Otranto_, and others. +The deaths of Pope and Swift have no such synchronism. They mark, +indeed, the disappearance of the strongest men of the old school, but +not the appearance of even the weakest and most infantine of the new. +Still this, though interesting in itself, is a trifle, and the whole +paper, short as it is, is a sort of _Nunc Dimittis_ in a new sense, a +hymn of praise for dismissal, not from but to work--to the singer's +proper function, from which he has been long divorced. + +"Falkland," which follows, is less purely literary, but yet closely +connected with literature. One thinks with some ruth of its original +text, which was a discourse on Falkland by that modern Lucius Gary, +the late Lord Carnarvon--the most curious and pathetic instance of a +man of the nineteenth century speaking of one who was almost his exact +prototype, in virtues and graces as in weaknesses and disabilities of +temperament, during the seventeenth. It would, of course, have been +indecent for Mr Arnold to bring this parallel out, writing as he did +in his own name and at the moment, and I do not find any reference to +it in the _Letters_; but I can remember how strongly it was felt +at the time. His own interest in Falkland as the martyr of Sweetness +and Light, of lucidity of mind and largeness of temper, was most +natural, and its sources most obvious. It would be cruel, and is quite +unnecessary, to insist on the too certain fact that, in this instance +at any rate, these excellent qualities were accompanied by a distinct +weakness of will, by a mania for sitting between two stools, and by +that--it may be lovable, it may be even estimable--incapacity to +think, to speak, to behave like a man of this world, which besets the +conscientious idealist who is not a fanatic. On the contrary, let us +not grudge Mr Arnold a hero so congenial to himself, and so little +repulsive to any of us. He could not have had a better subject; nor +can Falkland ever hope for a _vates_ better consecrated, by +taste, temper, and ability, to sing his praises. + +Then we are back again in pure literature, with the two notable +_Quarterly_ articles, already glanced at, on M. Scherer as "A +French Critic on Milton" and "A French Critic on Goethe." There was a +very strong sympathy, creditable to both, between the two. M. Scherer +went further than Mr Arnold in the negative character of his views on +religion; but they agreed as to dogma. His literary criticism was +somewhat harder and drier than Mr Arnold's; but the two agreed in +acuteness, lucidity, and a wide, if not quite a thoroughgoing, use of +the comparative method. Both were absolutely at one in their +uncompromising exaltation of "conduct." So that Mr Arnold was writing +quite _con amore_ when he took up his pen to recommend M. Scherer +to the British public, which mostly knew him not at that time. + +But he did not begin directly with his main subject. He had always, as +we have seen, had a particular grudge at Macaulay, who indeed +represented in many ways the tendencies which Mr Arnold was born to +oppose. Now just at this time certain younger critics, while by no +means championing Macaulay generally, had raised pretty loud and +repeated protests against Mr Arnold's exaggerated depreciation of the +_Lays_ as "pinchbeck"; and I am rather disposed to think that he +took this opportunity for a sort of sally in flank. He fastens on one +of Macaulay's weakest points, a point the weakness of which was +admitted by Macaulay himself--the "gaudily and ungracefully +ornamented" (as its author calls it) _Essay on Milton_. And he +points out, with truth enough, that its "gaudy and ungraceful +ornament" is by no means its only fault--that it is bad as criticism, +that it shows no clear grasp of Milton's real merits, that it ignores +his faults, that it attributes to him qualities which were the very +reverse of his real qualities. He next deals slighter but still +telling blows at Addison, defends Johnson, in passing, as only +negatively deficient in the necessary qualifications, not positively +conventional like Addison, or rhetorical like Macaulay, and then with +a turn, itself excellently rhetorical in the good sense, passes to M. +Scherer's own dealings with the subject. Thenceforward he rather +effaces himself, and chiefly abstracts and summarises the "French +Critic's" deliverances, laying special stress on the encomiums given +to Milton's style. The piece is one of his most artfully constructed; +and I do not anywhere know a better example of ingenious and +attractive introduction of a friend, as we may call it, to a new +society. + +The method is not very different in "A French Critic on Goethe," +though Carlyle, the English "awful example" selected for contrast, is +less maltreated than Macaulay, and shares the disadvantageous part +with Lewes, and with divers German critics. On the whole, this essay, +good as it is, seems to me less effective than the other; perhaps +because Mr Arnold is in less accord with his author, and even seems to +be in two minds about that author's subject--about Goethe himself. +Earlier, as we have partly seen, he had, both in prose and in verse, +spoken with praise--for him altogether extraordinary, if not +positively extravagant--of Goethe; he now seems a little doubtful, and +asks rather wistfully for "the just judgment of forty years," the calm +revised estimate of the Age of Wisdom. But M. Scherer's estimate is in +parts lower than he can bring himself to admit; and this turns the +final passages of the essay into a rather unsatisfactory chain of "I +agree with this," "I do not agree with that." But the paper retains +the great merit which has been assigned to its predecessor as a piece +of ushering; and that, we must remember, was what it was designed to +be. + +In "George Sand," which completes the volume, we have Mr Arnold no +longer as harbinger of another, but in the character, in which after +all he is most welcome, of speaker on his own account. His estimate of +this prolific _amuseuse_ will probably in the long-run seem +excessive to the majority of catholic and comparative critics; nor is +it at all difficult to account for the excess. Mr Arnold belonged +exactly to the generation to which in England, even more than in +France, George Sand came as a soothing and sympathetic exponent of +personal sorrows. Even the works of her "storm-and-stress" period were +not too far behind them; and her later calmer productions seem to have +had, at least for some natures among the "discouraged generation of +1850" (to which, as we have said, Mr Arnold himself by his first +publications belonged), something of that healing power which he has +assigned, in larger measure and with greater truth, to Wordsworth. A +man is never to be blamed for a certain generous overvaluation of +those who have thus succoured him; it would be as just to blame him +for thinking his mother more beautiful, his father wiser than they +actually were. And Mr Arnold's obituary here has a great deal of +charm. The personal and biographical part is done with admirable +taste, not a grain too much or too little of that _moi_ so +_haïssable_ in excess, so piquant as a mere seasoning, being +introduced: and the panegyric is skilful in the extreme. To be sure, +Mr Hamerton reappears, and Mr Arnold joins in the chorus of delight +because the French peasant no longer takes off his hat. Alas! there is +no need to go to the country of _La Terre_ to discover this sign +of moral elevation. But the delusion itself is only another proof of +Mr Arnold's constancy to his early ideas. And looking back on the +whole volume, one is almost tempted to say that, barring the first +_Essays in Criticism_ itself, he had written no better book. + +Before very long the skill in selecting and editing which had been +first applied to Johnson's _Lives_ found extended opportunities. +Mr Arnold had much earlier, in the _Essays in Criticism_, +expressed a wish that the practice of introducing books by a critical +and biographical Essay, which had long been naturalised in France, and +had in former times not been unknown in England, should be revived +among us. His words had been heard even before he himself took up the +practice, and for about the usual time--your thirty years is as a +matter of fact your generation--it flourished and prospered, not let +us hope to the great detriment of readers, and certainly to the modest +advantage of the public man when vexed by want of pence. Nor can it +exactly be said to have ceased--though for some years grumbles have +been uttered. "Why," says one haughty critic,--"why mar a beautiful +edition of So-and-so's works by incorporating with them this or that +man's estimate of their value?" "The publishers," says an inspired +_communiqué_, "are beginning to recognise that the public has no +need of such things in the case of works of established repute, of +which there is nothing new to be said." No doubt both these are +genuine utterances: no doubt the haughty critic would have steadily +refused to "mar" the book by _his_ estimate if he had been asked +to do so; no doubt the particular firm of publishers were not in the +least influenced by a desire to save the ten, twenty, fifty, or a +hundred guineas which this or that man might have demanded for saying +nothing new. + +But Mr Arnold did not agree with these severe folk. He thought--and +not a few good wits have thought with him--not only that these +Introductions are an opportunity for men like himself, with original +gifts of thought and style, to display these gifts, but that the +mighty public, for all its knowledge of everything that has been +thought and said about everybody, might find something new to it even +in the observations of lesser folk. As a matter of fact, of course, +and neither to talk nor to quote nonsense, the utility of such +Introductions, even if moderately well done, is unmistakable. Not one +in a thousand of the probable readers of any book has all the +information which even a fairly competent introducer will put before +him; not one in a hundred knows the previous estimates of the author; +not many possess that acquaintance with his whole work which it is +part of the business of the introducer to acquire, and adjust for the +better understanding of the particular book. Of course, if an +Introduction is imperfectly furnished with fact and thought and +reading--if it is desultory, in bad taste, and so forth--it had better +not be there. But this is only saying that a bad Introduction is a bad +thing, which does not get us much beyond the intellectual edification +of the niece of Gorboduc. Unless the introducer is a boggler, the +Introduction will probably do good to those who want it and can be +neglected by those who don't; while in the rarer and better cases it +will itself acquire, or even possess from the first, that very value +as a _point de repère_ which Mr Arnold had discussed. It will be +good relatively and good in itself,--a contribution at once to the +literature of knowledge and to the literature of power. + +Of Mr Arnold's efforts in editing I may be permitted to neglect his +"intromittings" with Isaiah, for reasons already sufficiently given. +In more hopeful matter there are three examples which are not soon +likely to lose interest or value: the selection of his own poems, that +from Wordsworth, and that from Byron. To the first the English habits +of his own day did not permit him to prefix any extensive +Introduction, and though the principle is sound, one is almost sorry +for the application. Neither Wordsworth nor Coleridge would have had +any scruples in doing this, and while Mr Arnold had the sense of the +ludicrous which Wordsworth lacked, he was less subject to disastrous +divagations than Coleridge. Still, the 1853 Preface enables those who +have some slight power of expansion to fill in what is wanted from the +point of view of purpose; and the selection itself is quite excellent. +Almost the only things that, as a basis for a good knowledge of the +poet, one finds it necessary to subjoin, are the beautiful +_Resignation_, which Mr Humphry Ward had the good taste to +include in the appendix to his _English Poets_; and the curious, +characteristic, and not much short of admirable _Dream_, which in +the earlier issues formed part of _Switzerland_, and should never +have been excluded from it. It is probably the best selection by a +poet from his own works that has ever been issued, and this is saying +not a little. Nor does one like Mr Arnold less for his saying, +reported either by Mr Ward or Lord Coleridge, that he had rather have +given _all_ the poems. + +As for the "Wordsworth" and the "Byron," they gain enormously by "this +man's estimate of them," and do not lose by "this man's" selection. I +have had occasion, not once or twice only, and for purposes not +invariably the same, to go through the Wordsworth book carefully, side +by side with the complete poems, in order to see whether anything has +necessarily to be added. I really do not know what has, unless it be a +few of the oases from the deserts of the _Excursion_, the +_Prelude_, and the then not published _Recluse_. Wordsworth's real +titles are put in once for all; the things by which he must stand or +fall are there. The professor, the very thorough-going student, the +literary historian, must go farther; the idle person with a love of +literature will; but nobody need. + +And the Introduction (for after all we can all make our selections for +ourselves, with a very little trouble) is still more precious. I know +few critical essays which give me more pleasure in reading and +re-reading than this. Not that I agree with it by any means as a +whole; but he is in the mere "Pettys" of criticism (it is true not +many seem to get beyond) who judges a critical essay by his own +agreement with it. Mr Arnold puts Wordsworth, as a poet and an English +poet, far higher than I can put him. He is not so great a poet to my +thinking as Spenser or Shelley; if it were possible in these +competitions to allow weight for age, he is not as great a poet as +Keats; I am sure he is not a greater poet than Tennyson; I cannot give +him rank above Heine or Hugo, though the first may be sometimes +naughty and the second frequently silly or rhetorical; and when Mr +Arnold begins to reckon Molière in, I confess I am lost. When and +where did Molière write poetry? But these things do not matter; they +are the things on which reviewers exercise their "will it be +believed?" and on which critics agree to differ. We may include with +them the disparaging passage on Gautier (of whom I suspect Mr Arnold +knew little, and whom he was not quite fitted to judge had he known +more) and the exaltation of "life" and "conduct" and all the rest of +it. These are the colours of the regiment, the blazonry of the knight; +we take them with it and him, and having once said our say against +them, pass them as admitted. + +But what is really precious is first the excellent criticism scattered +broadcast all over the essay, and secondly, the onslaught on the +Wordsworthians. They might perhaps retort with a _tu quoque_. +When Mr Arnold attacks these poor folk for saying that Wordsworth's +poetry is precious because its philosophy is sound, we remember a +certain Preface with its "all depends on the subject," and chuckle a +little, a very little. But Mr Arnold is right here. No philosophy, no +subject, will make poetry without poetical treatment, and the +consequence is that _The Excursion_ and _The Prelude_ are, +as wholes, not good poems at all. They contain, indeed, passages of +magnificent poetry. But how one longs, how, as one sees from this +essay, Mr Arnold longed, for some mercury-process which would simply +amalgamate the gold out of them and allow us to throw the dross down +any nearest cataract, or let it be blown away by any casual hurricane! + +The Byron paper contains more disputable statements--indeed the +passage about Shelley, if it were quite serious, which may be doubted, +would almost disqualify Mr Arnold as a critic of poetry. But it is +hardly less interesting, and scarcely at all less valuable. In the +first place, it is a very great thing that a man should be able to +admire both Byron and Wordsworth. Of a mere Byronite, indeed, Mr +Arnold has even less than he has of a Wordsworthian pure and simple. +He makes the most damaging admissions; he has to fall back on Goethe +for comfort and confirmation; he is greatly disturbed by M. Scherer's +rough treatment of his subject. In no essay, I think, does he quote so +much from others, does he seem to feel it such a relief to find a +backer, a somebody to fight with on a side point, a somebody (for +instance Professor Nichol) to correct and gloss and digress upon while +complimenting him. Mr Arnold is obviously not at ease in this +Zion--which indeed is a Zion of an odd kind. Yet this very uneasiness +gives to the _Essay_ a glancing variety, a sort of animation and +excitement, which are not common things in critical prelections. Nor, +though one may think that Mr Arnold's general estimate of Byron is not +even half as sound as his general estimate of Wordsworth, does the +former appear to be in even the slightest degree insincere. Much as +there must have been in Byron's loose art, his voluble +inadequacy--nay, even in his choice of subject--that was repellent to +Mr Arnold: much more as there must have been in his unchastened +conduct, his flashy affectations, his lack of dignity, morality, +_tenue_ of every kind,--yet there were real links between them. Mr +Arnold saw in Byron an ally, if not an altogether admirable or +trustworthy ally, against the Philistine. He saw in him a link with +general European literature, a check and antidote to the merely +insular. Byron's undoubtedly "sincere and strong" dislike of the +extreme Romantic view of literature was not distasteful to Mr Arnold. +Indeed, in his own earlier poems there are not wanting Byronic touches +and echoes, not so easy to separate and put the finger on, as to see +and hear "confusedly." Lastly, he had, by that sort of reaction which +often exhibits itself in men of the study, an obvious admiration for +Force--the admiration which makes him in his letters praise France up +to 1870 and Germany after that date--and he thought he saw Force in +Byron. So that the _Essay_ is written with a stimulating mingle-mangle +of attraction and reluctance, of advocacy and admission. It is very +far indeed from being one of his best critically. You may, on his own +principles, "catch him out" in it a score of times. But it is a good +piece of special pleading, an excellent piece of writing, and one of +the very best and most consummate literary _causeries_ in +English. + +In strict chronological order, a third example of these most +interesting and stimulating Prefaces should have been mentioned +between the "Wordsworth" and the "Byron"--the latter of which, indeed, +contains a reference to it. This is the famous Introduction to Mr T.H. +Ward's _English Poets_, which, in that work and in the second +series of _Essays in Criticism_, where it subsequently appeared, +has perhaps had more readers than any other of its author's critical +papers. It contains, moreover, that still more famous definition of +poetry as "a criticism of life" which has been so often attacked and +has sometimes been defended. I own to having been, both at the time +and since, one of its most decided and irreconcilable assailants. Nor +do I think that Mr Arnold would have much relished the apology made, I +think, by Mr Leslie Stephen since his death, that its critics "mistake +an epigram for a philosophical definition." In the first place, the +epigrammatic quality is not clearly apparent; and in the second place, +an epigram would in the particular place have been anything but +appropriate, while a philosophical definition is exactly what was +wanted. + +Mr Arnold himself never attempted any such defence. He pleaded, with +literal justice, that the phrase "a criticism of life" was only part +of his formula, which adds, "under the conditions fixed for such a +criticism by the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty." But this +does not make the matter much better, while it shows beyond +controversy that it _was_ a philosophical definition that he was +attempting. It merely takes us round in a circle, telling us that +poetry is poetical, that the archdeacon performs archidiaconal +functions. And while it is not more illuminative than that famous and +useful jest, it has the drawback of being positively delusive, which +the jest is not. Unless we are to assign some quite new meaning to +"criticism"--and the assignment of new meanings to the terms of an +explanation is the worst of all explanatory improprieties--poetry is +_not_ a criticism of life. It may be a passionate interpretation of +life--that has seemed to some not a bad attempt at the +unachievable,--a criticism it cannot be. Prose fiction may be and +should be such; drama may be and should be such; but not poetry. And +it is especially unfortunate that such poetry as answers best to the +term is exactly that poetry which Mr Arnold liked least. Dryden and +Pope have much good and true criticism of life: _The Vanity of Human +Wishes_ is magnificent criticism of life; but Mr Arnold has told us +that Dryden and Pope and Johnson are but "classics of our prose." That +there is criticism of life _in_ poetry is true; but then in poetry +there is everything. + +It would also, no doubt, be possible to pick other holes in the paper. +The depreciation of the "historic estimate," instead of a simple hint +to correct it by the intrinsic, is certainly one. Another is a +distinct arbitrariness in the commendation or discommendation of the +examples selected. No one in his senses would put the _Chanson de +Roland_ on a level with the _Iliad_ as a whole; but some among those +people who happen to possess an equal acquaintance with Greek and Old +French will demur to Mr Arnold's assignment of an ineffably superior +poetical quality to one of the two passages he quotes over the other. +So yet again with the denial of "high seriousness" to Chaucer. One +feels disposed to enter and argue out a whole handful of not quite +contradictory pleas, such as "He _has_ high seriousness" (_vide_ the +"Temple of Mars," the beginning of the _Parliament of Fowls_, and many +other places): "Why should he have high seriousness?" (a most +effective demurrer); and "What _is_ high seriousness, except a fond +thing vainly invented for the nonce?" + +But, as has so constantly to be said in reference to Mr Arnold, these +things do not matter. He must have his catchwords: and so "criticism +of life" and "high seriousness" are introduced at their and his peril. +He must have his maintenance of the great classics, and so he exposes +what I fear may be called no very extensive or accurate acquaintance +with Old French. He must impress on us that conduct is three-fourths +of life, and so he makes what even those who stop short of +_latreia_ in regard to Burns may well think mistakes about that +poet likewise. But all the spirit, all the tendency, of the +_Introduction_ is what it ought to be, and the plea for the +"real" estimate is as wholly right in principle as it is partly wrong +in application. + +It is well borne out by the two interesting articles on Gray and Keats +which Mr Arnold contributed to the same work. In the former, and here +perhaps only, do we find him putting his shoulder to the work of +critical advocacy and sympathy with an absolutely whole heart. With +Wordsworth, with Byron, with Heine, he was on points more or fewer at +grave difference; though he affected to regard Goethe as a _magnus +Apollo_ of criticism and creation both, I think in his heart of +hearts there must have been some misgivings; and it is impossible that +he should not have known his fancy for people like the Guérins to be +mere _engouement_. Gray's case was different. The resemblances +between subject and critic were extraordinary. Mr Arnold is really an +industrious, sociable, and moderately cheerful Gray of the nineteenth +century; Gray an indolent, recluse, more melancholy Arnold of the +eighteenth. Again, the literary quality of the bard of the +_Elegy_ was exactly of the kind which stimulates critics most. +From Sainte-Beuve downwards the fraternity has, justly or unjustly, +been accused of a tendency to extol writers who are a little +problematical, who approach the second class, above the unquestioned +masters. And there was the yet further stimulus of redressing wrongs. +Gray, though a most scholarly poet, has always pleased the vulgar +rather than the critics, and he had the singular fate of being +dispraised both by Johnson and by Wordsworth. But in this paper of Mr +Arnold's the wheel came full circle. Everything that can possibly be +said for Gray--more than some of us would by any means indorse--is +here said for him: here he has provided an everlasting critical +harbour, into which he may retreat whensoever the popular or the +critical breeze turns adverse. + +And the Keats, less disputable in its general estimate, is equally +good in itself, and specially interesting as a capital example of Mr +Arnold's polemic--_the_ capital example, indeed, if we except the +not wholly dissimilar but much later article on Shelley's _Life_. +He is rather unduly severe on the single letter of Keats which he +quotes; but that was his way, and it is after all only a justifiable +rhetorical _reculade_, with the intent to leap upon the maudlin +defenders of the poet as a sort of hero of M. Feydeau, and rend them. +The improvement of the mere fashion, as compared with the +fantasticalities of the _Friendship's Garland_ period, is simply +enormous. And the praise which follows is praise really in the grand +style--praise, the style and quality of which are positively rejoicing +to the heart from their combination of fervour and accuracy, from +their absolute fulfilment of the ideal of a word shockingly misused in +these latter days, the word Appreciation. The personal sympathy which +Mr Arnold evidently had with Gray neither makes nor mars here; all is +purely critical, purely literary. And yet higher praise has never been +given by any save the mere superlative-sloppers of the lower press, +nor juster criticism meted out by the veriest critical Rhadamanthus. +Of its scale and kind, this, I think, is the most perfect example of +Mr Arnold's critical power, and it is so late that it shows that power +to have been not merely far off exhaustion, but actually, like sound +old wine, certain to improve for years to come. + +In the seven years that were left to him after the publication of the +_Byron_, Mr Arnold did not entirely confine himself to the +service of his only true mistress Literature. But he never fell again +so completely into the power of Duessa as he had fallen between 1867 +and 1877. His infidelities were chiefly in the direction of politics, +not of religion or irreligion, and they were of a less gay and +frivolous character than those of a generally similar kind in earlier +dates. They were partly devoted to the change which has brought it +about, that, while during the third quarter of the century the +Conservatives were in power, though on three different occasions, yet +in each for absolutely insignificant terms, in the fourth Mr +Gladstone's tenure of office from 1880 to 1885 has been the only +period of real Liberal domination. But although he dealt with the +phenomenon from various points of view in such articles as "The Nadir +of Liberalism," the "Zenith of Conservatism," and so forth, it was +chiefly, as was natural at the time, in relation to Ireland that he +exercised his political pen, and enough has been said about these +Irish articles by anticipation above. _Discourses in America_, +the result of his lecturing tour to that country in 1883-84, and the +articles on Amiel, Tolstoi, and Shelley's Life, which represent his +very last stage of life, require more particular attention. + +The _Discourses in America_, two of them specially written, and +the other, originally a Cambridge "Rede" discourse, recast for the +Western Hemisphere, must always rank with the most curious and +interesting of Mr Arnold's works: but the very circumstances of their +composition and delivery made it improbable, if not impossible, that +they should form one of his best. These circumstances were of a kind +which reproduces itself frequently in the careers of all men of any +public distinction. In his days of comparative obscurity, or in some +position of "greater freedom and less responsibility," even when he +ceases to be obscure, a man deals faithfully, but perhaps a little +flippantly, with this or that person, thing, nation, subject, +doctrine. Afterwards he is brought into a relation with the person or +nation, into a position as regards the thing, subject, or doctrine, +which necessitates, if not exactly a distinct recantation in the +humiliating sense attached to the Latin, yet a more or less graceful +and ingenious palinode in the more honourable one which we allow to +the Greek equivalent and original. Mr Arnold could never be lacking in +grace or in ingenuity; but he certainly had, in his earlier work, +allowed it to be perfectly visible that the world of American +politics, American manners, American institutions and ways generally, +was not in his eyes by any means a world all of sweetness or all of +light. + +His sense of the ludicrous, and his sense of art, alike precluded even +the idea of a clumsy apology, and though, as was to be expected, the +folk of the baser sort who exist everywhere may not have been pleased +with his Discourses, the people of the United States generally did not +owe him or show him any grudge for being frank and consistent as well +as polite. The subjects were selected and grouped with great skill. +"Numbers" dealt with the burning question of democracy, which must +ever be uppermost--or as nethermost not less important--in a republic; +and dealt with it after the more moderate, not the extremer form, of +that combination of literature and politics which Mr Arnold had always +affected. "Literature and Science," the middle discourse, attacked a +question which, so far as the nationality of his audience was +concerned, had nothing burning about it, which the lecturer was +singularly well qualified to treat from the one side, and which is +likely to retain its actuality and its moment for many a day and year, +perhaps many a century. "Emerson," the last, descended from +generalities to the consideration of a particular subject, at once +specially American and specially literary. It would have been hard +indeed to exhibit better composition in the grouping of the subjects +as regards their classes, and criticism may be defied to find better +examples of each class than those actually taken. + +It is not clear that quite such high praise can be given to the +execution, and the reason is plain: it was in the execution, not in +the composition and scheme, that the hard practical difficulties of +the task came in. Long harnessed official as he was, and preacher as +he was, in his critical character, of Law, Order, Restraint, Mr Arnold +was both too much of an Englishman and too much of a genius not to be +ill to ride with the curb. And, save perhaps in "Literature and +Science" (which was not at first written for an American audience at +all), the pressure of the curb--I had almost said of the twitch--is +too often evident, or at least suggested. This especially applies to +the first, the longest, the most ambitious, and, as its author would +say, most "nobly serious" of the three. There are quite admirable +things in "Numbers"; and the descant on the worship of the great +goddess Aselgeia, and its effect upon France, is not only nobly +serious from the point of view of morality, but is one of Mr Arnold's +best claims to the title of a political philosopher, and even of a +political prophet. But it is less easy to say that this passage +appears to be either specially in place or well composed with its +companions. Perhaps the same is true of the earlier part, and its +extensive dealings with Isaiah and Plato. As regards the prophet, it +is pretty certain that of Mr Arnold's hearers, the larger number did +not care to have Isaiah spoken about in that particular manner, while +some at least of the rest did not care to have him spoken about at +all. Of the philosopher, it is equally safe to say that the great +majority knew very little, and that of the small minority, some must +have had obstinate questionings connected with the appearance of Plato +as an authority on the moral health of nations, and with the +application of Mr Arnold's own very true and very noble doctrine about +Aselgeia. In fact, although the lecture is the most thoughtful, the +most serious in part, the most forcible, and the truest of all Mr +Arnold's political or social discourses, yet it shares with all of +them the reproach of a touch of desultory dilettantism. + +The others, at least equally interesting in parts, are much better as +wholes. The opening of the "Emerson," with its fond reminiscence of +Oxford, is in a vein which Mr Arnold did not often work, but which +always yielded him gold. In the words about Newman, one seems to +recognise very much more than meets the ear--an explanation of much in +the Arnoldian gospel, on something like the principle of revulsion, of +soured love, which accounts for still more in the careers of his +contemporaries, Mr Pattison and Mr Froude. He is less happy on +Carlyle--he never was very happy on Carlyle, and for obvious +reasons--but here he jars less than usual. As for Emerson himself, +some readers have liked Emerson better than Carlyle at first, but have +found that Carlyle "wears" a great deal better than Emerson. It seems +to have been the other way with Mr Arnold; yet he is not uncritical +about Emerson himself. On Emerson's poetry he is even, as on his own +principles he was, perhaps, bound to be, rather hypercritical. Most of +it, no doubt, is not poetry at all; but it has "once in a hundred +years," as Mr O'Shaughnessy sang, the blossoming of the aloe, the +star-shower of poetic meteors. And while, with all reverence, one is +bound to say that his denying the title of "great writer" to Carlyle +is merely absurd--is one of those caprices which somebody once told us +are the eternal foes of art--he is not unjust in denying that title to +Emerson. But after justifying his policy of not "cracking up" by still +further denying his subject the title of a great philosophic thinker, +he proceeds to find a pedestal for him at last as a friend and leader +of those who would "live in the spirit." With such a judgment one has +no fault to find, because it must be in all cases an almost purely +personal one. To some Gautier, with his doctrine of + + "Sculpte, lime, cisèle," + +as the great commandment of the creative artist, has been a friend and +leader in the life of the spirit: to Mr Arnold he was only a sort of +unspiritual innkeeper. To Mr Arnold, Maurice de Guérin, with his +second-hand Quinetism, was a friend and leader in the life of the +spirit; others scarcely find him so. "This is this to thee and that to +me." + +The third (strictly the middle) piece fortunately requires no +allowances, and suffers from no drawbacks. "Literature and Science" is +an apology for a liberal education, and for a rationally ordered +hierarchy of human study, which it would be almost impossible to +improve, and respecting which it is difficult to think that it can +ever grow obsolete. Not only was Mr Arnold here on his own ground, but +he was fighting for his true mistress, with the lance and sword and +shield that he had proved. And the result is like that, of the +fortunate fights of romance: he thrusts his antagonists straight over +the crupper, he sends them rolling on the ground, and clutching its +sand with their fingers. Even Mr Huxley, stoutest and best of all the +Paynim knights, never succeeded in wiping off this defeat; and it is +tolerably certain that no one else will. The language of the piece is +unusually lacking in ornateness or fanciful digression; but the logic +is the strongest that Mr Arnold ever brought to bear. + +The three last essays we have mentioned, apart from the pathetic and +adventitious interest which attaches to them as last, would be in any +case among the best of their author's, and their value is (at least, +as it seems to me) in an ascending scale. To care very much for that +on Count Tolstoi is not easy for those who are unfashionable enough +not to care very much for the eloquent Russian himself. Nothing is +satisfactory that one can only read in translations. But Mr Arnold, in +whom a certain perennial youthfulness was (as it often, if not always, +is in the chosen of the earth) one of his most amiable features, seems +to have conceived a new _engouement_ for this new and quaintly +flavoured Russian literature. Had he lived longer, he probably would +have sung us something in a cautionary strain; just as it can never be +sufficiently regretted that he did not live long enough to handle +Ibsenism. And it would have been very particularly pleasant to hear +him on those _Memoirs of a Mongol Minx_ (as they have been +profanely called), which are assigned to the great Marie Bashkirtseff; +or on those others of the learned She-Mathematician, who waited with a +friend on a gentleman and suggested that he should marry _one_ of +them, no matter which, and lead both about. But the mixture of +freshness, of passion, and of regard for conduct in Count Tolstoi +could not but appeal to him; and he has given us a very charming +_causerie_ on _Anna Karenina_, notable--like O'Rourke's +noble feast--to + + "Those who were there + And those who were not,"-- + +to those who have read the book itself, and to those who have not yet +found time to read it. + +I cannot plead much greater affection for the lucubrations of Amiel +than for Count Tolstoi's dealings with that odd compound of crudity +and rottenness, the Russian nature; but Mr Arnold's "Amiel" is +admirable. Never was there a more "gentlemanly correction," a more +delicate and good-humoured setting to rights, than that which he +administers to Amiel's two great panegyrists (who happened to be Mr +Arnold's own niece and Mr Arnold's own friend). On subjects like Maya +and the "great wheel" it would almost be impossible to conceive, and +certainly impossible to find, a happier commentator than Mr Arnold, +though perhaps in the regions of theology he had a private Maya, a +very Great Wheel, of his own. The firmness with which he rebukes the +maunderings of the Genevese hypochondriac--of whom some one once +unkindly remarked that he was not so much intoxicated with Idealism as +suffering from the subsequent headache--is equalled by the kindness of +the dealing; and the quiet decision with which he puts his fine +writing in its proper place is better still. Nobody could call Mr +Arnold a Philistine or one insensible to _finesse_, grace, +_sehnsucht_, the impalpable and intangible charm of melancholy +and of thought. And his comments on Amiel's loaded pathos and his +muddled meditation are therefore invaluable. Nor is he less happy or +less just in the praise which, though not the first, he was one of the +first to give to by far the strongest side of Amiel's talent, his +really remarkable power of literary criticism. + +But the best wine was still kept for the very last. It will have been +observed in these brief sketches of his work that, since his return to +the fields of literature proper, Mr Arnold had drawn nearer to the +_causerie_ and farther from the abstract critical essay,--that he had +taken to that mixture of biography, abstract of work, and interspersed +critical comment which Sainte-Beuve, though he did not exactly invent +it, had perfected, and which somebody, I think, has recently described +as "intensely irritating." Well! well! pearls, as we all know, are +irritating to certain classes of consumers. He had from the first done +this well, he now did it consummately. That he took occasion, in the +paper on Shelley's life which appeared in the _Nineteenth Century_ for +January 1888, to repeat his pet heresy about Shelley's poetry, matters +nothing at all. It is an innocent defiance, and no attempt whatever is +made to support it by argument. The purpose of the essay is quite +different. Already, some years before, in his article on Keats, Mr +Arnold had dealt some pretty sharp blows both at the indiscretion of a +certain class of modern literary biographers, and at the pawing and +morbid sentimentality of the same persons or others. He had a new and +a better opportunity in the matter he was now handling, and he struck +more strongly, more repeatedly, and with truer aim than ever. From the +moment of its appearance to the present day, this piece has been an +unceasing joy to all who love literature with a sane devotion. Its +composition is excellent; it selects just the right points, dwells on +them in just the right way, and drops them just when we have had +enough. In mere style it yields to nothing of its author's, and is +conspicuously and quite triumphantly free from his repetitions and +other mannerisms. No English writer--indeed one may say no writer at +all--has ever tempered such a blend of quiet contempt with perfect +good-humour and perfect good-breeding. Dryden would have written with +an equally fatal serenity, but not so lightly; Voltaire with as much +lightness, but not nearly so much like a gentleman--which may also be +said Of Courier. Thackeray could not have helped a blaze of +indignation--honest and healthy, but possibly just +_plusquam_-artistic--at the unspeakable persons who think that by +blackening the unhappy Harriet they can whiten Shelley. And almost any +one would have been likely either to commit the complementary error of +being too severe on Shelley himself, or, if this were avoided, to +underlie the charge of being callous and unsympathetic. Every one of +these rocks, and others, Mr Arnold has avoided; and he has left us in +the piece one of the most perfect examples that exist of the English +essay on subjects connected with literature. In its own special +division of _causerie_ the thing is not only without a superior, it is +almost without a peer; its insinuated or passing literary comments are +usually as happy as its censure of vital matters, and even the +above-referred-to heresy itself gives it a certain piquancy. Ill +indeed was the fate that took its author away so soon after the +completion of this little masterpiece; yet he could not have desired +to leave the world with a better diploma-performance, lodged as an +example of his actual accomplishment. + +We must now return, for the last time unfortunately, to the narrative +of biographical events. December 1877 furnishes, in some letters to +his sister, evidence that he was increasingly "spread" (as the French +say quaintly) by notices of parties and persons--Mr Disraeli and Mr +Gladstone, Mr Huxley and Mr Ruskin. One is glad to hear of the +last-named that the writer "is getting to like him "--the passages on +the author of _Modern Painters_ in the earlier letters are +certainly not enthusiastic--and that "he gains much by his fancy being +forbidden to range through the world of coloured cravats." This +beneficial effect of evening dress is not limited to Mr Ruskin, and is +so well expressed that one only wishes Mr Arnold had let his own fancy +range more freely in such epistolary criticisms of life. We hear that +Mr J.R. Green "likes the Reformation and Puritanism less the more he +looks into them," again a not uncommon experience--and that Mr +Stopford Brooke is deriving much edification from the review of his +_Primer_. The next year continues the series of letters to M. +Fontanes, and gives a pleasant phrase in one to another sister, Mrs +Cropper. "My poems have had no better friends in their early and needy +days than my own sisters"--wherein Mr Arnold unconsciously quotes +_Goblin Market_, "there is no friend like a sister." Later, Mr +Freeman is dashed off, _a la maniere noire_, as "an ardent, +learned, and honest man, but a ferocious pedant." 1879 yields a letter +to Miss Arnold, expressing the intention to send the Wordsworth book +of selections to M. Scherer, and beg him to review it, which request +resulted in one of the very best, perhaps _the_ very best, of +that critic's essays in English Literature. Mr Arnold is distressed +later at Renan's taking Victor Hugo's poetry so prodigiously _au +serieux_, just as some of us have been, if not distressed, yet +mildly astonished, at Mr Arnold for not taking it, with all its +faults, half seriously enough. Geist, the dachshund, appears +agreeably, with many other birds and beasts, in a May letter of this +year, and botany reinforces zoology in a later one to Mr Grant Duff. + +1880 is at first less fertile, but gives an amusing account of a +semi-royal reception of Cardinal Newman at the Duke of Norfolk's in +May, and a very interesting series of letters from Pontresina in the +autumn. Fortunately for us Mrs Arnold was not with him, and we profit +by his letters to her. In one of them there is a very pleasing and +probably unconscious touch. "Rapallo [the Duchess of Genoa's husband] +smokes the whole evening: _but I think he has a good heart_." And +later still we have the curious and not uncharacteristic information +that he is reading _David Copperfield_ for the first time (whence +no doubt its undue predominance in a certain essay), and the +description of Burns as "a beast with splendid gleams," a view which +has been fully developed since. On February 21, 1881, there is another +interview, flattering as ever, with Lord Beaconsfield, and later he +tells M. Fontanes, "I never much liked Carlyle," which indeed we knew. +The same correspondent has the only references preserved to Dean +Stanley's death; but the magnificent verses which that death produced +make anything else superfluous. They appeared in the first number of +the _Nineteenth Century_ for 1882, when New Year's Day gives us a +melancholy prediction. If "I live to be eighty [_i.e._, in some +three years from the present moment], I shall probably be the only +person in England who reads anything but newspapers and scientific +publications." Too gloomy a view, let us hope; yet with something in +it. And a letter, a very little later, gives us interesting hints of +his method in verse composition, which was to hunt a Dictionary +(Richardson's) for good but unusual words--Theophile Gautier's way +also, as it happens, though probably he did not know that. + +These later letters contain so many references to living people that +one has to be careful in quoting from them; but as regards himself, +there is of course no such need of care. That self-ruthlessness which +always prevented him from scamping work is amazingly illustrated in +one of October 1882, which tells how he sat up till five in the +morning rewriting a lecture he was to deliver in Liverpool, and got up +at eight to start for the place of delivery. Let us hope that a +champagne luncheon there--"chiefly doctors, but you know I like +doctors"--revived him after the night and the journey. And two months +later he makes pleasant allusion to "that demon Traill," in reference +to a certain admirable parody of _Poor Matthias_. He had thought +Mr Gladstone "hopelessly prejudiced against" him, and was +proportionately surprised when in August 1883 he was offered by that +Minister a pension of £250 for service to the poetry and literature of +England. Few Civil List pensions have been so well deserved. But Mr +Arnold, as most men of his quality would have been, was at once struck +with the danger of evil constructions being put by the baser sort on +the acceptance of an extra allowance from public funds by a man who +already had a fair income from them, and a comfortable pension in the +ordinary way to look forward to. Mr John Morley, however, and Lord +Lingen, luckily succeeded in quieting his scruples, and only the very +basest sort grumbled. The great advantage, of course, was that it +enabled him to retire, as soon as his time was up, without too great +loss of income. + +A lecturing tour to America was already planned, and October 7, 1883 +is the last date from Cobham, "New York" succeeding it without any; +for Mr Arnold had the reprehensible and, in official persons, rare +habit of very constantly omitting dates, though not places. The St +Nicholas Club, "a delightful, poky, dark, exclusive little old club of +the Dutch families," is the only place in which he finds peace. For, +as one expected, the interviewers made life terrible. These American +letters are interesting reading enough, but naturally tend to be +little more than a replica of similar letters from other Englishmen +who have done the same thing. As has been quite frankly admitted here, +Mr Arnold never made any effort, and seldom seems to have been +independently prompted, to write what are called "amusing" letters: he +merely tells a plain tale of journeys, lectures, meals, persons, +scenery, manners and customs, etc. Chicago seems to have vindicated +its character for "character" by hospitably forcing him to eat dinner +and supper "on end," and by describing him in its newspapers as "an +elderly bird pecking at grapes on a trellis." The whole tour, +including a visit to Canada, lasted nearly five months, and +brought--not the profit which some people expected, but--a good sum, +with wrinkles as to more if the experiment were repeated. And when he +came back to England, the lectures were collected and printed. + +In February 1885 we have, addressed to his eldest daughter, then +married and living in America, a definition of "real civilisation" as +the state "when the world does not begin till 8 P.M. and goes on from +that till 1 A.M., not later." This is, though doubtless jestful, +really a _point de repère_ for the manners of the later +nineteenth century as concerns a busy man who likes society. In the +eighteenth, and earlier in the nineteenth, men as busy as Mr Arnold +practically abstained from "the world" except quite rarely, while "the +world" was not busy. The dachshunds come in for frequent mention. + +On a Sunday in May of this year comes the warning of "a horrid pain +across my chest," which, however, "Andrew Clark thinks [wrongly, +alas!] to be not heart" but indigestion. The _Discourses in +America_, for which their author had a great predilection, came out +later. In August the pain is mentioned again; and the subsequent +remark, "I was a little tired, but the cool champagne at dinner +brought me round," is another ominous hint that it was _not_ +indigestion. Two of the most valuable of all the letters come in +October, one saying, "I think Oxford is still, on the whole, the place +in the world to which I am most attached" ["And so say all of us"]; +the other, after some notice of the Corpus plate, telling how "I got +out to Hinksey and up the hill to within sight of the Cumnor firs. I +cannot describe the effect which this landscape always has upon me: +the hillside with its valleys, and Oxford in the great Thames valley +below." And this walk is again referred to later. He was pleased by a +requisition that he should stand yet again for the Poetry +Professorship, though of course he did not accede to it. And at the +beginning of winter he had a foreign mission (his last) to Berlin, to +get some information for the Government as to German school fees. He +was much lionised, and seems to have enjoyed himself very much during +his stay, the Crown Princess being specially gracious to him. + +Nor was he long in England on his return, though long enough to bring +another mention of the chest pain, and an excellent definition of +education--would there were no worse!--"Reading five pages of the +Greek Anthology every day, and looking out all the words I do not +know." In February 1886 he was back again investigating the Swiss and +Bavarian school systems; and that amiable animal-worship of his +receives a fresh evidence in the mention and mourning of the death of +"dear Lola" (not Montès, but another; in short, a pony), with a sigh +for "a _mèche_ of her hair." The journey was finished by way of +France towards the end of March. At Hamburg Mr Arnold was "really [and +very creditably] glad to have had the opportunity of calling a man +Your Magnificence," that being, it seems, the proper official style in +addressing the burgomaster. And May took him back to America, to see +his married daughter and divers old friends. He remained there till +the beginning of September, improving, as he thought, in health, but +meeting towards the close an awkward bathing accident, which involved +no risk of drowning, but gave him a shock that was followed by a week +or two of troublesome attacks of pain across the chest. There is very +much in the letters of the time about the political crisis of 1886. +His retirement from official work came in November, and the letters +are fuller than ever of delight in the Cobham landscape. + +But the warnings grew more frequent, and we know that long before this +he had had no delusions about their nature. Indeed, it is doubtful +whether he had ever had any, considering the fact of the malady, which +had, as he says in a singularly manly and dignified _commentatio +mortis_ dated January 29, 1887, struck down his father and +grandfather in middle life long before they came to his present age. +He "refuses every invitation to lecture or make addresses." The +letters of 1887, too, are very few, and contain little of interest, +except an indication of a visit to Fox How; while much the same may be +said of those, also few, from the early months of 1888. The last of +all contains a reference to _Robert Elsmere_. Five days later, on +April 15, a sudden exertion, it seems, brought on the fatal attack, +and he died. He had outlived his grand climacteric of sixty-three +(which he had thought would be "the end as well as the climax") by two +years and three months. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CONCLUSION. + + +The personal matters which usually, and more or less gracefully, fill +the beginning of the end of a biography, are perhaps superfluous in +the case of a man who died so recently, and who was so well known as +Mr Matthew Arnold. Moreover, if given at all, they should be given by +some one who knew him more intimately than did the present writer. He +was of a singularly agreeable presence, without being in the sense of +the painter's model exactly "handsome"; and in particular he could +boast a very pleasant and not in the least artificial smile. Some +artificiality of manner was sometimes attributed to him, I think +rather unjustly; but he certainly had "tricks and manners" of the kind +very natural to men of decided idiosyncrasy, unless they transcend all +mere trick, after the fashion which we know in Scott, which we are +sure of, without knowing, in Shakespeare. One of these Mr George +Russell glances at in the preface to the _Letters_, a passage +which I read with not a little amusement, because I could confirm it +from a memory of my only conversation with Mr Arnold. He had been +good-humouredly expostulating with me for overvaluing some French +poet. I forget at the distance of seventeen or eighteen years who it +was, but it was not Gautier. I replied in some such words as, "Well; +perhaps he is not very important in himself, but I think he is +'important _for us_,' if I may borrow that." So he looked at me +and said, "_I_ didn't write that anywhere, did I?" And when I +reminded him that he had told us how Sainte-Beuve said it of +Lamartine, he declared that he had quite forgotten it. Which might, or +might not, be Socratic. + +But I should imagine that the complaints of his affectations in +ordinary society were as much exaggerated as I am sure that the +opposite complaints of the humdrum character of his letters are. +Somebody talks of the "wicked charm" which a popular epithet or +nickname possesses, and something of the sort seems to have hung about +"The Apostle of Culture," "The Prophet of Sweetness and Light," and +the rest. He only deserved his finical reputation inasmuch as he was +unduly given to the use of these catch-words, not because he in any +undue way affected to "look the part" or live up to them. And as for +the letters, it must be remembered that he was a very busy man, with +clerical work of the official kind enough to disgust a very +Scriblerus; that he had, so far as the published letters show us, no +very intimate friend, male or (still better) female, outside his own +family; and further, that the degeneration of the art of +letter-writing is not a mere phrase, it is a fact. Has any of my +readers many--or any--correspondents like Scott or like Southey, like +Lamb or like FitzGerald, like Madame de Sévigné or like Lady Mary? He +is lucky if he has. Indeed, the simplicity of the _Letters_ is +the very surest evidence of a real simplicity in the nature. In the +so-called best letter-writers it may be shrewdly suspected that this +simplicity is, with rare exceptions, absent. Scott had it; but then +Scott's genius as a novelist overflowed into his letters, as did +Southey's talent of universal writing, and Lamb's unalterable +quintessence of quaintness. But though I will allow no one to take +precedence of me as a champion of Madame de Sévigné, I do not think +that simplicity is exactly the note of that beautiful and gracious +person; it is certainly not that of our own Lady Mary, or of Horace +Walpole, or of Pope, or of Byron. Some of these, as we know, or +suspect with a strength equal to knowledge, write with at least a +sidelong glance at possible publication; some with a deliberate +intention of it; all, I think, with a sort of unconscious +consciousness of "how it will look" on paper. Of this in Mr Arnold's +letters there is absolutely no sign. Even when he writes to +comparative strangers, he never lays himself out for a "point" or a +phrase, rarely even for a joke. To his family (and it should be +remembered that the immense majority of the letters that we possess +are family letters) he is naturally more familiar, but the familiarity +does not bring with it any quips or gambols. Only in the very early +letters, and chiefly in those to Wyndham Slade, is there any +appearance of second thought, of "conceit," in the good sense. Later, +he seems to have been too much absorbed in his three functions of +official, critic, and poet to do more than shake hands by letter and +talk without effort. + +But if he, as the phrase is, "put himself out" little as to +letter-writing, it was by no means the same in those other functions +which have been just referred to. In later years (it is Mr Humphry +Ward, I think, who is our sufficient authority for it) poetry was but +occasional amusement and solace to him, prose his regular avocation +from task-work; and there is abundant evidence that, willingly or +unwillingly, he never allowed either to usurp the place of the +vocation which he had accepted. Not everybody, perhaps, is so +scrupulous. It is not an absolutely unknown thing to hear men boast of +getting through their work somehow or other, that they may devote +themselves to _parerga_ which they like, and which they are +pleased to consider more dignified, more important, nearer the chief +end of man. And from the extremely common assumption that other +people, whether they confess this or not, act upon it, one may at +least not uncharitably suppose that a much larger number would so act +if they dared, or had the opportunity. This was not Mr Arnold's +conception of the relations of the hired labourer and the labour which +gains him his hire. Not only does he seem to have performed his actual +inspecting duties with that exact punctiliousness which in such cases +is much better than zeal, but he did not grudge the expenditure of his +art on the requirements, and not the strict requirements only, of his +craft. The unfitness of poets for business has been often enough +proved to be a mere fond thing vainly invented; but it was never +better disproved than in this particular instance. + +Of the manner in which he had discharged these duties, some idea may +be formed from the volume of _Reports_ which was edited, the year +after his death, by Sir Francis Sandford. It would really be difficult +to imagine a better display of that "sweet reasonableness," the +frequency of which phrase on a man's lips does not invariably imply +the presence of the corresponding thing in his conduct. It would be +impossible for the most plodding inspector, who never dared commit a +sonnet or an essay, to deal with his subject in a way showing better +acquaintance with it, more interest in it, or more business-like +abstinence from fads, and flights, and flings. Faint and far-off +suggestions of the biographer of Arminius may, indeed, by a very +sensitive reader, be discovered in the slightly eccentric suggestion +that the Latin of the Vulgate (of which Mr Arnold himself was justly +fond) should be taught in primary schools, and in the rather perverse +coupling of "Scott and Mrs Hemans." But these are absolutely the only +approaches to naughtiness in the whole volume. It is a real misfortune +that the nature of the subject should make readers of the book +unlikely to be ever numerous; for it supplies a side of its author's +character nowhere else (except in glimpses) provided by his extant +work. It may even be doubted, by those who have read it, whether +"cutting blocks with a razor" is such a Gothamite proceeding as it is +sometimes held to be. For in this case the blocks are chopped as well +as the homeliest bill-hook could do it; and we know that the razor was +none the blunter. At any rate, the ethical document is one of the +highest value, and very fit, indeed, to be recommended to the +attention of young gentlemen of genius who think it the business of +the State to provide for them, and not to require any dismal drudgery +from them in return. + +But the importance of Mr Arnold to English history and English +literature has, of course, little or nothing to do with his official +work. The faithful performance of that work is important to his +character; and the character of the work itself colours very +importantly, and, as we have seen, not perhaps always to unmitigated +advantage, the nature of his performances as a man of letters. But it +is as a man of letters, as a poet, as a critic, and perhaps most of +all as both combined, that he ranks for history and for the world. + +A detailed examination of his poetic performance has been attempted in +the earlier pages of this little book, as well as some general remarks +upon it; but we may well find room here for something more general +still. That the poet is as much above the prose-writer in rank as he +is admittedly of an older creation, has always been held; and here, as +elsewhere, I am not careful to attempt innovation. In fact, though it +may seem unkind to say so, it may be suspected that nobody has ever +tried to elevate the function of the prose-writer above that of the +poet, unless he thought he could write great prose and knew he could +not write great poetry. But in another order of estimate than this, Mr +Arnold's poetic work may seem of greater value than his prose, always +admirable and sometimes consummate as the latter is, if we take each +at its best. + +At its best--and this is how, though he would himself seem to have +sometimes felt inclined to dispute the fact, we must reckon a poet. +His is not poetry of the absolutely trustworthy kind. It is not like +that of Shelley or of Keats, who, when their period of mere juvenility +is past, simply cannot help writing poetry; nor is it, on the other +hand, like that of Wordsworth, who flies and flounders with an +incalculable and apparently irresponsible alternation. It is +rather--though I should rank it far higher, on all but the historic +estimate, than Gray's--like that of Gray. The poet has in him a vein, +or, if the metaphor be preferred, a spring, of the most real and +rarest poetry. But the vein is constantly broken by faults, and never +very thick; the spring is intermittent, and runs at times by drops +only. There is always, as it were, an effort to get it to yield +freely, to run clear and constant. And--again as in the case of +Gray--the poet subjects himself to a further disability by all manner +of artificial restrictions, struggles to comply with this or that +system, theories, formulas, tricks. He will not "indulge his genius." +And so it is but rarely that we get things like the _Scholar-Gipsy_, +like the _Forsaken Merman_, like the second _Isolation_; and when we +do get such things there is sometimes, as in the case of the +peroration to _Sohrab and Rustum_, and perhaps the splendid +opening of _Westminster Abbey_ and _Thyrsis_, a certain +sense of parade, of the elaborate assumption of the singing-robe. +There is too seldom the sensation which Coleridge unconsciously +suggested in the poem that heralded the poetry of the nineteenth +century. We do not feel that + + "The fair breeze blew, the while foam flew, + The furrow followed free"-- + +that + + "We were the first that ever burst + Into that silent sea;" + +but that a mighty launch of elaborate preparation is taking place, +that we are pleased and orderly spectators standing round, and that +the ship is gliding in due manner, but with no rush or burst, into the +sea of poetry. While elsewhere there may be even the sense of effort +and preparation without the success. + +But, once more, a poet is to be judged first by his best things, and +secondly by a certain _aura_ or atmosphere, by a nameless, +intangible, but sensible quality, which, now nearer and fuller, now +farther and fainter, is over his work throughout. In both respects Mr +Arnold passes the test. The things mentioned above and others, even +many others, are the right things. They do not need the help of that +rotten reed, the subject, to warrant and support them; we know that +they are in accordance with the great masters, but we do not care +whether they are or not. They sound the poetic note; they give the +poetic flash and iridescence; they cause the poetic intoxication. Even +in things not by any means of the best as wholes, you may follow that +gleam safely. The exquisite revulsion of the undertone in +_Bacchanalia_-- + + "Ah! so the silence was, + So was the hush;" + +the honey-dropping trochees of the _New Sirens_; the description +of the poet in _Resignation_; the outburst-- + + "What voices are these on the clear night air?" + +of _Tristram and Iseult_; the melancholy meditation of _A +Summer Night_ and _Dover Beach_, with the plangent note so +cunningly yet so easily accommodated to the general tone and motive of +the piece,--these and a hundred other things fulfil all the +requirements of the true poetic criticism, which only marks, and only +asks for, the _differentia_ of poetry. + +And this poetic moment--this (if one may use the words, about another +matter, of one who wrote no poetry, yet had more than all but three or +four poets), this "exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss +of the spouse, and ingression into the divine shadow" which poetry and +poetry alone confers upon the fit readers of it--is never far off or +absent for long together in Mr Arnold's verse. His command of it is +indeed uncertain. But all over his work, from _The Strayed +Reveller_ to _Westminster Abbey_, it may happen at any minute, +and it does happen at many minutes. This is what makes a poet: not the +most judicious selection of subject, not the most studious +contemplation and, as far as he manages it, representation of the +grand style and the great masters. And this is what Mr Arnold has. + +That his prose, admirable as it always is in form and invaluable as it +often is in matter, is on the whole inferior to his verse, is by no +means a common opinion, though it was expressed by some good judges +both during his life and at the time of his death. As we have seen, +both from a chance indication in his own letters and from Mr Humphry +Ward's statement, he took very great pains with it; indeed, internal +evidence would be sufficient to establish this if we had no positive +external testimony whatsoever. He came at a fortunate time, when the +stately yet not pompous or over-elaborated model of the latest +Georgian prose, raised from early Georgian "drabness" by the efforts +of Johnson, Gibbon, and Burke, but not proceeding to the extremes of +any of the three, was still the academic standard; but when a certain +freedom on the one side, and a certain grace and colour on the other, +were being taken from the new experiments of nineteenth-century prose +proper. Whether he or his contemporary Mr Froude was the greatest +master of this particular blend is a question which no doubt had best +be answered by the individual taste of the competent. I should say +myself that Mr Froude at certain moments rose higher than Mr Arnold +ever did; nothing of the latter's can approach that magnificent +passage on the passing of the Middle Ages and on the church-bell sound +that memorises it. And Mr Froude was also free from the mannerisms, at +times amounting to very distinct affectation, to which, in his middle +period more especially, Mr Arnold succumbed. But he did not quite keep +his friend's high level of distinction and _tenue_. It was almost +impossible for Mr Arnold to be slipshod--I do not mean in the sense of +the composition books, which is mostly an unimportant sense, but in +one quite different; and he never, as Mr Froude sometimes did, +contented himself with correct but ordinary writing. If his defect was +mannerism, his quality was certain manner. + +The most noticeable, the most easily imitated, and the most doubtful +of his mannerisms was, of course, the famous iteration, which was +probably at first natural, but which, as we see from the +_Letters_, he afterwards deliberately fostered and accentuated, +in order, as he thought, the better to get his new ideas into the +heads of what the type-writer sometimes calls the "Br_u_tish" +public. That it became at times extremely teasing is beyond argument, +and I should be rather afraid that Prince Posterity will be even more +teased by it than we are, because to him the ideas it enforces will +be, and will have been ever since he can remember, obvious and +common-place enough. But when this and some other peccadillos (on +which it is unnecessary to dwell, lest we imitate the +composition-books aforesaid) were absent or even moderately present, +sometimes even in spite of their intrusion, Mr Arnold's style was of a +curiously fascinating character. I have often thought that, in the +good sense of that unlucky word "genteel," this style deserves it far +more than the style either of Shaftesbury or of Temple; while in its +different and nineteenth-century way, it is as much a model of the +"middle" style, neither very plain nor very ornate, but "elegant," as +Addison's own. Yet it is observable that all the three writers just +mentioned keep their place, except with deliberate students of the +subject, rather by courtesy or prescription than by actual conviction +and relish on the part of readers: and it is possible that something +of the same kind may happen in Mr Arnold's case also, when his claims +come to be considered by other generations from the merely formal +point of view. Nor can those claims be said to be very securely based +in respect of matter. It is impossible to believe that posterity will +trouble itself about the dreary apologetics of undogmatism on which he +wasted so much precious time and energy; they will have been arranged +by the Prince's governor on the shelves, with Hobbes's mathematics and +Southey's political essays. "But the criticism," it will be said, +"_that_ ought to endure." No doubt from some points of view it ought, +but will it? So long, or as soon, as English literature is +intelligently taught in universities, it is sure of its place in any +decently arranged course of Higher Rhetoric; so long, or as soon, as +critics consider themselves bound to study the history and documents +of their business, it will be read by them. But what hold does this +give it? Certainly not a stronger hold than that of Dryden's _Essay of +Dramatic Poesy_, which, though some of us may know it by heart, can +scarcely be said to be a commonly read classic. + +The fact is--and no one knew this fact more thoroughly, or would have +acknowledged it more frankly, than Mr Arnold himself--that criticism +has, of all literature that is really literature, the most precarious +existence. Each generation likes, and is hardly wrong in liking, to +create for itself in this province, to which creation is so scornfully +denied by some; and old critics are to all but experts (and apparently +to some of them) as useless as old moons. Nor can one help regretting +that so long a time has been lost in putting before the public a +cheap, complete, handy, and fairly handsome edition of the whole of Mr +Arnold's prose. There is no doubt at all that the existence of such an +edition, even before his death, was part cause, and a large part of +the cause, of the great and continued popularity of De Quincey; and it +is a thousand pities that, before a generation arises which knows him +not, Mr Arnold is not allowed the same chance. As it is, not a little +of his work has never been reprinted at all; some of the rest is +difficult of access, and what there is exists in numerous volumes of +different forms, some cheap, some dear, the whole cumbersome. And if +his prose work seems to me inferior to his poetical in absolute and +perennial value, its value is still very great. Not so much English +prose has that character of grace, of elegance, which has been +vindicated for this, that we can afford to lay aside or to forget such +consummate examples of it. Academic urbanity is not so universal a +feature of our race--the constant endeavour at least to "live by the +law of the _peras_," to observe lucidity, to shun exaggeration, +is scarcely so endemic. Let it be added, too, that if not as the sole, +yet as the chief, herald and champion of the new criticism, as a +front-fighter in the revolutions of literary view which have +distinguished the latter half of the nineteenth century in England, Mr +Arnold will be forgotten or neglected at the peril of the generations +and the individuals that forget or neglect him. + +Little need be added about the loss of actual artistic pleasure which +such neglect must bring. Mr Arnold may never, in prose, be read with +quite the same keenness of delight with which we read him in poetry; +but he will yield delight more surely. His manner, except in his rare +"thorn-crackling" moments, and sometimes even then, will carry off +even the less agreeable matter; with matter at all agreeable, it has a +hardly to be exaggerated charm. + +But it is in his general literary position that Mr Arnold's strongest +title to eminence consists. There have certainly been greater poets in +English: I think there have been greater critics. But as poet and +critic combined, no one but Dryden and Coleridge can be for a moment +placed beside him: the fate of the false Florimel must await all +others who dare that adventure. And if he must yield--yield by a long +way--to Dryden in strength and easy command of whatsoever craft he +tried, to Coleridge in depth and range and philosophical grasp, yet he +has his revenges. Beside his delicacy and his cosmopolitan +accomplishment, Dryden is blunt and unscholarly; beside his directness +of aim, if not always of achievement, his clearness of vision, his +almost business-like adjustment of effort to result, the vagueness and +desultoriness of Coleridge look looser and, in the literary sense, +more disreputable than ever. Here was a man who could not only +criticise but create; who, though he may sometimes, like others, have +convicted his preaching of falsity by his practice, and his practice +of sin by his preaching, yet could in the main make practice and +preaching fit together. Here was a critic against whom the foolish +charge, "You can break, but you cannot make," was confessedly +impossible--a poet who knew not only the rule of thumb, but the rule +of the uttermost art. In him the corruption of the poet had not been +the generation of the critic, as his great predecessor in the two +arts, himself secure and supreme in both, had scornfully said. Both +faculties had always existed, and did always exist, side by side in +him. He might exercise one more freely at one time, one at another; +but the author of the _Preface_ of 1853 was a critic, and a ripe +one, in his heyday of poetry, the author of _Westminster Abbey_ +was a poet in his mellowest autumn of criticism. + +And yet he was something more than both these things, more than both +of these at once. But for that unlucky divagation in the Wilderness, +his life would have been the life of a man of letters only as far as +choice went, with the duties of no dishonourable profession +superadded. And even with the divagation it was mainly and really +this. To find parallels for Mr Arnold in his unflinching devotion to +literature we must, I fear, go elsewhere than to Dryden or to +Coleridge, we must go to Johnson and Southey. And here again we may +find something in him beyond both, in that he had an even nobler +conception of Literature than either. That he would have put her even +too high, would have assigned to her functions which she is unable to +discharge, is true enough; but this is at least no vulgar error. +Against ignoble neglect, against stolid misunderstanding, against +mushroom rivalry, he championed her alike. And it was most certainly +from no base motive. If he wanted an English Academy, I am quite sure +it was not from any desire for a canary ribbon or a sixteen-pointed +star. Yet, after Southey himself in the first half of the century, who +has done so much for letters _quâ_ letters as Mr Arnold in the +second? His poems were never popular, and he tried no other of the +popular departments of literature. But he wrote, and I think he could +write, nothing that was not literature, in and by the fact that he was +its writer. It has been observed of others in other kinds, that +somehow or other, by merely living, by pursuing their own arts or +crafts whatever they were, they raised those arts and crafts in +dignity, they bestowed on them as it were a rank, a position. A few--a +very few--at successive times have done this for literature in +England, and Mr Arnold was perhaps the last who did it notably in +ours. One cannot imagine him writing merely for money, for position, +even for fame--for anything but the _devoir_ of the born and +sworn servant of Apollo and Pallas. Such devotion need not, of course, +forbid others of their servants to try his shield now and then with +courteous arms or even at sharps--as he tried many. But it was so +signal, so happy in its general results, so exactly what was required +in and for England at the time, that recognition of it can never be +frank enough, or cordial enough, or too much admiring. Whenever I +think of Mr Arnold it is in those own words of his, which I have +quoted already, and which I quoted to myself on the hill by Hinksey as +I began this little book in the time of fritillaries-- + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade"-- + +the hope and shade that never desert, even if they flit before and +above, the servants and the lovers of the humaner literature. + + + + +INDEX. + + * * * * * +_Alaric at Rome_, 4. + +_Bacchanalia, or the New Age_, 114. +_Balder Dead_, 52, 53. +_Byron, Poetry of_, ed. Arnold, 185. + +_Celtic Literature, On the Study of_, 66, 104 _et seq._ +_Church of Brou, The_, 38. +_Consolation_, 28. +_Cromwell_, 8, 9. +_Culture and Anarchy_, 128 _et seq._ + +_Discourses in America_, 195. +_Dover Beach_, 112. + +_Empedocles on Etna_, 23. +_Essays in Criticism_, 83 _et seq._, 123. +_Eton, A French_, 79 _et seq._ + +_Farewell, A_, 27. +_Forsaken Merman, The_, 19. +_French Eton, A_, 79 _et seq._ +_Friend, To a_, sonnet, 15. +_Friendship's Garland_, 148. + +_God and the Bible_, 137. + +_Heine's Grave_, 115. +_Homer, On Translating_, 66. + +_In Utrumque Paratus_, 20. +_Irish Essays_, 151. +_Isolation_, 31. + +Johnson's Lives of the Poets, ed. Arnold, 169. + +_Last Essays on Church and Religion_, 137, 142. +_Letters_, 1, 15 _et seq._, 214. +_Lines written by a Death-bed_, 32. +_Literature and Dogma_, 131 _et seq._ +_Longing_, 30. + +_Marguerite, To_, 31. +_Memorial Verses_, 26. +_Merman, The Forsaken_, 19. +_Merope_, 60. +_Mixed Essays_, 168 _et seq._ +_Modern Sappho, The_, 17. +_Mycerinus_, 13. + +_New Sirens, The_, 17. + +_Obermann_, 53. +_On the Rhine_, 29. +_On the Study of Celtic Literature_, 66, 104 _et seq._ +_On the Terrace at Berne_, 16. +_On Translating Homer_, 66. + +_Preface_, the, to the 'Poems' of 1853. 33 _et seq._ +_Prose Passages_, 166. + +Renan, Arnold's relations with, 101. +_Requiescat_, 39. +_Resignation_, 20, 185. +_Rugby Chapel_, 115. + +Sainte-Beuve, 59, 203. +_Scholar-Gipsy, The_, 5, 40 _et seq._ +_Schools and Universities on the Continent_, 116. +_Selected Poems_, 184. +Shairp, Principal, lines on Arnold by, 5. +_Shakespeare_, Sonnet to, 15. +_Sick King in Bokhara_, 15. +_Sohrab and Rustum_, 37, 51, 52. +Southey, use of rhymeless metre by, 11. +_St Brandan_, 111. +_St Paul and Protestantism_, 130 _et seq._ +_Stagirius_, 19. +_Strayed Reveller, The_, 10 _et seq._ +_Summer Night, A_, 26. +_Switzerland_, 16. + +Tennyson, influence of, on Arnold, 19. +_Thyrsis_, 111. +_To Fausta_, 19. +_To Marguerite_, 31. +_To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender Leave-taking_, 16, 27. +_Tristram and Iseult_, 24, 25. + +_Voice, The_, 19. + +Ward's _English Poets_, Arnold's Introduction to, 189. +_Westminster Abbey_, 207, 220, 228. +_Wordsworth, Poems of_, ed. Arnold, 185. + + + +THE END. + +PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + +***** This file should be named 16284-8.txt or 16284-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/8/16284/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/16284-8.zip b/16284-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a41ec8 --- /dev/null +++ b/16284-8.zip diff --git a/16284-h.zip b/16284-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..57805bd --- /dev/null +++ b/16284-h.zip diff --git a/16284-h/16284-h.htm b/16284-h/16284-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..785e081 --- /dev/null +++ b/16284-h/16284-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7358 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Matthew Arnold by George Saintsbury</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<style type="text/css"> +a.link:link, a.link:visited, ol.index a:link, ol.index a:visited { color: #0000bf } +a.link:hover, a.link:active, ol.index a:hover, ol.index a:active { color: #ff0000 } +ol.index a { text-decoration: none } + + +blockquote { font-size: 0.875em } + + +body { margin-left: 7.5%; margin-right: 7.5% } + + +div.footnote { margin: 1em; padding: 0.5em } +div.footnote,span.fn-marker { background: #eeeeee; border: 1px dashed #000000; color: #000000; font-size: 0.75em } + + +h1,h2,h3 { font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase } +h1,h2 { letter-spacing: 0.125em; } +h1 { font-size: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.75em; margin-top: 4.5em } +h2 { font-size: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-top: 6em } +/* inline exception: first chapter */ +h3 { font-size: 0.875em; margin-bottom: 2em } + + +hr { background: #000000; border: 0px; height: 0.075em; margin-bottom: 2.625em; margin-top: 2.625em; width: 4.25em } + + +ol.contents { font-size: 0.875em; line-height: 2em; list-style-type: upper-roman; text-transform: uppercase } +ol.contents li { margin-top: 0.75em } +ol.index { list-style-type: none; text-indent: -1em } +ol.index li.first-of-letter { margin-top: 1em } + + +p { margin-bottom: 0em; margin-top: 0em; text-indent: 2em } +p.continued,p.stanza { text-indent: 0em } +p.stanza { margin-bottom: 1.25em; margin-top: 1.25em; white-space: nowrap } + + +span.first-word { font-variant: small-caps } +span.fn-label { font-weight: bold } +span.fn-marker { font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-left: 0.25em; margin-right: 0.25em; padding-left: 0.25em; padding-right: 0.25em } +span.fn-marker a { text-decoration: none } +span.greek { border-bottom: 1px #000000 dotted; font-style: italic } +span.il1 { padding-left: 1em } +span.il2 { padding-left: 2em } +span.lowered { position: relative; top: 0.5em } +span.rowdot { margin-right: 2em } + + +#chap { font-size: 0.625em; text-transform: uppercase } + + +#printed-by,#the-end { text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase } +#printed-by { font-size: 0.625em; margin-bottom: 6em } + + +#series { margin-bottom: 6em; margin-top: 3em; text-align: center; white-space: nowrap; word-spacing: 0.25em } +#series hr { margin-bottom: 1.5em; margin-top: 1.5em; width: 7.5em } +#series span.location { font-variant: small-caps } +#series span.publisher { text-transform: uppercase } + +#series-coming { font-style: italic; word-spacing: normal } + +#series-title { font-size: 1.375em; text-transform: uppercase } + +#series-titles { margin: auto; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: left } +#series-titles span.person-title { font-variant: normal } +#series-titles td { padding-bottom: 0.375em } +#series-titles td.author { font-variant: small-caps; padding-left: 3em } +#series-titles td.title { text-transform: uppercase } + + +#the-end { font-size: 0.875em; margin-bottom: 17.143em; margin-top: 17.143em } + + +#title-page { text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; word-spacing: 0.5em; white-space: nowrap } +#title-page div.author { font-size: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 1em } +#title-page div.by { font-size: 0.75em } +#title-page div.title { font-size: 2.5em; letter-spacing: 0.1875em; margin-bottom: 4em; margin-top: 8em } +#title-page div.position { font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 1.75em; word-spacing: 0.375em } +#title-page div.printing { font-size: 0.75em; margin-bottom: 12em; margin-top: 12em } +#title-page div.publication { letter-spacing: 0.125em; line-height: 1.75em } +#title-page div.publisher { font-size: 1.25em } + + +@media print +{ +a { text-decoration: none } +a.link:link,a.link:visited,a.link:hover,a.link:active { color: #000000 } +} +</style> +<style type="text/css" title="Hide page markers"> +.dummy { margin: auto } +</style> +<style type="text/css" title="Show page markers"> +a.page { position: absolute; left: 0.5em; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0em; text-decoration: none; text-transform: none; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal; font-variant: normal; font-style: normal } +a.page:after { display: inline; content: attr(title) } +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Matthew Arnold + +Author: George Saintsbury + +Release Date: July 13, 2005 [EBook #16284] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN IMPROVED ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16745"> +[# 16745 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<div id="series"> +<div id="series-title"> +Modern English Writers, +</div> + +<hr /> + +<table id="series-titles" summary="A list of titles in the Modern English Writers series and their authors."><tr> +<td class="title">Matthew Arnold</td><td class="author"><span class="person-title">Professor</span> Saintsbury.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">R. L. Stevenson</td><td class="author">L. Cope Cornford.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">John Ruskin</td><td class="author"><span class="person-title">Mrs</span> Meynell.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Alfred Tennyson</td><td class="author">Andrew Lang.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Thomas Henry Huxley</td><td class="author">Edward Clodd.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Thackeray</td><td class="author">Charles Whibley.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">George Eliot</td><td class="author">A. T. Quiller-couch.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Browning</td><td class="author">C. H. Herford.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Froude</td><td class="author">John Oliver Hobbes.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="title">Dickens</td><td class="author">W. E. Henley.</td> +</tr></table> + +<div id="series-coming">*<span class="lowered">*</span>* Other Volumes will be announced in due +course.</div> + +<hr /> + +<div><span class="publisher">William Blackwood & Sons</span>, <span class="location">Edinburgh and London</span></div> +</div> + + +<div id="title-page"> +<div class="title">Matthew Arnold</div> + +<div class="by">by</div> + + +<div class="author">George Saintsbury</div> + +<div class="position">Professor Of Rhetoric And English Literature In The<br /> +University Of Edinburgh</div> + +<div class="printing">Third Impression</div> + +<div class="publication"> +<div class="publisher">William Blackwood and Sons</div> +<div class="location">Edinburgh and London</div> +<div class="date">MCMII</div> +</div> +</div> + + + + +<h1>Preface.</h1> + +<hr /> + + +<p> +<span class="first-word">Mr. Matthew Arnold</span>, like other good men of our times, disliked the +idea of being made the subject of a regular biography; and the only +official and authoritative sources of information as to the details of +his life are the <i class="title">Letters</i> published by his family, under the +editorship of Mr G.W.E. Russell (2 vols., London, 1895)<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-1" class="link">[1]</a></span>. To these, +therefore, it seems to be a duty to confine oneself, as far as such +details are concerned, save as regards a very few additional facts +which are public property. But very few more facts can really be +wanted except by curiosity; for in the life of no recent person of +distinction did things literary play so large a part as in Mr +Arnold’s: of no one could it be said with so much truth that, family +affections and necessary avocations apart, he was <i class="title">totus in +illis</i>. And these things we have in abundance.<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-2" class="link">[2]</a></span> If the following +pages seem to discuss them too minutely, it can only be pleaded that +those to whom it seems so are hardly in sympathy with Matthew Arnold +himself. And if the discussion seems to any one too often to take the +form of a critical examination, let him remember Mr. Arnold’s own +words in comparing the treatment of Milton by Macaulay and by M. +Scherer:— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> + “Whoever comes to the <i class="title">Essay on Milton</i> with the desire to get + at the real truth about Milton, whether as a man or a poet, will + feel that the essay in nowise helps him. A reader who only wants + rhetoric, a reader who wants a panegyric on Milton, a panegyric on + the Puritans, will find what he wants. A reader who wants criticism + will be disappointed.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +I have endeavoured, in dealing with the master of all English critics +in the latter half of the nineteenth century, to “help the reader who +wants criticism.” +</p> + + + + + + +<h1>Contents.</h1> + +<hr /> + +<div id="chap">Chap.</div> + +<ol class="contents"> +<li><a class="link" href="#i">Life till Marriage, and Work till the Publication of the +<i class="title">Poems</i> of 1853</a></li> + +<li><a class="link" href="#ii">Life from 1851-62—Second Series of <i class="title">Poems</i>—<i class="title">Merope</i>—<i class="title">On +Translating Homer</i></a></li> + +<li><a class="link" href="#iii"><i class="title">A French Eton</i>—<i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>—<i class="title">Celtic Literature</i>—<i class="title">New +Poems</i>—Life from 1862 to 1867</a></li> + +<li><a class="link" href="#iv">In the Wilderness</a></li> + +<li><a class="link" href="#v">The Last Decade</a></li> + +<li><a class="link" href="#vi">Conclusion</a></li> +</ol> + +<hr style="margin-bottom: 0.75em; margin-top: 0.75em; width: 7.5em" /> + +<ol class="contents" style="list-style-type: none"> +<li><a class="link" href="#index">Index</a></li> +</ol> + + + + + +<h1><a id="page001" name="page001" title="1" class="page"></a>Matthew Arnold.</h1> + +<hr /> + + + +<h2 style="margin-top: 2.1em"><a id="i" name="i">Chapter I.</a></h2> + +<h3>Life till Marriage, and Work till the Publication of the <i class="title">Poems</i> +of 1853.</h3> + + +<p> +Even those who are by no means greedy of details as to the biography +of authors, may without inconsistency regret that Matthew Arnold’s +<i class="title">Letters</i> do not begin till he was just five-and-twenty. And then +they are not copious, telling us in particular next to nothing about +his literary work (which is, later, their constant subject) till he +was past thirty. We could spare schoolboy letters, which, though often +interesting, are pretty identical, save when written by little prigs. +But the letters of an undergraduate—especially when the person is +Matthew Arnold, and the University the Oxford of the years 1841-45—ought +to be not a little symptomatic, not a little illuminative. We +might have learnt from them something more than we know at present +about the genesis and early stages of that not entirely comprehensible +or classifiable form of Liberalism in matters political, +ecclesiastical, and general which, with a kind of altered Voltairian +touch, attended his Conservatism in literature. Moreover, it is a real +loss that we have scarcely anything from his own pen about his poems +before <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>—that is to say, about the <a id="page002" name="page002" title="2" class="page"></a>great +majority of the best of them. By the time at which we have full and +frequent commentaries on himself, he is a married man, a harnessed and +hard-working inspector of schools, feeling himself too busy for +poetry, not as yet tempted by promptings within or invitations from +without to betake himself to critical prose in any quantity or +variety. Indeed, by a not much more than allowable hyperbole, we may +say that we start with the book of his poetry all but shut, and the +book of his prose all but unopened. +</p> + +<p> +We must therefore make what we can of the subject, and of course a +great deal more is to be made in such a case of the work than of the +life. The facts of the latter are but scanty. Matthew Arnold, as all +the world knows, was the son—the eldest son—of the famous Dr +(Thomas) Arnold, Head-master of Rugby, and Regius Professor of Modern +History at Oxford, where he had earlier been a Fellow of Oriel. Dr +Arnold survives in the general memory now chiefly by virtue of his +head-mastership, which was really a remarkable one, whatever +<a id="page003" name="page003" title="3" class="page"></a>distinction it may owe to the loyalty of such a group of pupils as his +son, Dean Stanley, Clough, “Tom Brown” Hughes, and others. But he was, +if not positively great, a notable and influential person in many +ways. As a historian he was alert and intelligent, though perhaps too +much under the influence of that subtlest and most dangerous kind of +“popular breeze” which persuades those on whom it blows that they are +sailing not with but away from the vulgar. As a scholar he was +ingenious, if not very erudite or deep. He was really a master, and +has been thought by some good judges a great master, of that admirable +late Georgian academic style of English prose, which is almost the +equal of the greatest. But he was, if not exactly <i lang="la">cupidus novarum +rerum</i> in Church and State, very ready to entertain them; he was +curiously deficient in logic; and though the religious sense was +strong in him, he held, and transmitted to his son, the heresy—the +foundation of all heresies—that religion is something that you can +“bespeak,” that you can select and arrange to your own taste; that it +is not “to take or to leave” at your peril and as it offers itself. +</p> + +<p> +On August 11, 1820, Dr Arnold married Mary Penrose, and as he had +devoted his teaching energies, which were early developed, not to +school or university work, but to the taking of private pupils at +Laleham on the Thames, between Staines and Chertsey, their eldest son +was born there, on Christmas Eve, 1822. He <a id="page004" name="page004" title="4" class="page"></a>was always enthusiastic +about the Thames valley, though not more so than it deserves, and in +his very earliest letter (January 2, 1848) we find record of a visit, +when he found “the stream with the old volume, width, shine, rapid +fulness, ‘kempshott,’<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-3" class="link">[3]</a></span> and swans, unchanged and unequalled.” He was +only six years old when his father was elected to the head-mastership +of Rugby; he was educated in his early years at his birthplace, where +an uncle, the Rev. John Buckland, carried on the establishment, and at +the age of fourteen he was sent to Winchester, his father’s school. +Here he only remained a year, and entered Rugby in August 1837. He +remained there for four years, obtaining an open Balliol scholarship +in 1840, though he did not go up till October 1841. In 1840 he had +also gained the prize for poetry at Rugby itself with <i class="title">Alaric at +Rome</i>, a piece which was immediately printed, but never reprinted +by its author, though it is now easily obtainable in the 1896 edition +of those poems of his which fell out of copyright at the seven years +after his death. +</p> + +<p> +It is an observation seldom falsified, that such exercises, by poets +of the higher class, display neither their special characteristics, +nor any special characteristics at <a id="page005" name="page005" title="5" class="page"></a>all. Matthew Arnold’s was not one +of the exceptions. It is very much better than most school prize +poems: it shows the critical and scholarly character of the writer +with very fair foreshadowing; but it does not fore-shadow his poetry +in the very least. It is quite free from the usual formal faults of a +boy’s verse, except some evidences of a deficient ear, especially for +rhyme (“full” and “beautiful,” “palaces” and “days”). It manages a +rather difficult metre (the sixain rhymed <i class="rhyme-scheme">ababcc</i> and ending +with an Alexandrine) without too much of the monotony which is its +special danger. And some of the tricks which the boy-poet has caught +are interesting and abode with him, such as the <i class="term">anadiplosis</i>— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Yes, there are stories registered on high,<br /> + Yes, there are stains Time’s fingers cannot blot”; +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +in which kind he was to produce some years later the matchless +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Still nursing the unconquerable hope,<br /> + Still clutching the inviolable shade,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +of the <i class="title">Scholar-Gipsy</i>. On the whole, the thing is correct but +colourless; even its melancholy is probably mere Byronism, and has +nothing directly to do with the later quality of <i class="title">Dover Beach</i> +and <i class="title">Poor Matthias</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Of Mr Arnold’s undergraduate years we have unluckily but little +authentic record, and, as has been said, not one letter. The most +interesting evidence comes from Principal Shairp’s well-known lines in +<a id="page006" name="page006" title="6" class="page"></a><i class="title">Balliol Scholars, 1840-1843</i>, written, or at least published, +many years later, in 1873:— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The one wide-welcomed for a father’s fame,<br /> + Entered with free bold step that seemed to claim<br /> + <span class="il1">Fame for himself, nor on another lean.</span> +</p> + +<p class="stanza"> + So full of power, yet blithe and debonair,<br /> + <span class="il1">Rallying his friends with pleasant banter gay,</span><br /> + Or half a-dream chaunting with jaunty air<br /> + <span class="il1">Great words of Goethe, catch of Béranger,</span><br /> + We see the banter sparkle in his prose,<br /> + But knew not then the undertone that flows<br /> + <span class="il1">So calmly sad, through all his stately lay.”</span><span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-4" class="link">[4]</a></span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Like some other persons of much distinction, and a great many of +little or none, he “missed his first,” in December 1844; and though he +obtained, three months later, the consolation prize of a Fellowship +(at Oriel, too), he made no post-graduate stay of any length at the +university. The then very general, though even then not universal, +necessity of taking orders before very long would probably in any case +have sent him wandering; for it is clear from the first that his bent +was hopelessly anti-clerical, and he was not merely too honest, but +much too proud a man, to consent to be put in one of the priests’ +offices for a morsel of bread. It may well be doubted—though he felt +and expressed not merely in splendid passages of prose and verse for +public perusal, but in private letters quite towards the close of his +life, that <a id="page007" name="page007" title="7" class="page"></a>passionate attachment which Oxford more than any other +place of the kind inspires—whether he would have been long at home +there as a resident. For the place has at once a certain republicanism +and a certain tyranny about its idea, which could not wholly suit the +aspiring and restless spirit of the author of <i class="title">Switzerland</i>. None +of her sons is important to Oxford—the meanest of them has in his +sonship the same quality as the greatest. Now it was very much at Mr +Arnold’s heart to be important, and he was not eager to impart or +share his qualities. +</p> + +<p> +However this may be, there were ample reasons why he should leave the +fold. The Bar (though he was actually called and for many years went +circuit as Marshal to his father-in-law, Mr Justice Wightman) would +have suited him, in practice if not in principle, even less than the +Church; and he had no scientific leanings except a taste for botany. +Although the constantly renewed cries for some not clearly defined +system of public support for men of letters are, as a rule, absurd, +there is no doubt that Mr Arnold was the very man for a sinecure, and +would have justified the existence of Pipe or Hanaper to all +reasonable men. But his political friends had done away with nearly +all such things, and no one of the very few that remained fell to his +lot. His father had died in 1842, but the son served a short +apprenticeship to school-teaching at Rugby, then became private +secretary to Lord Lansdowne, the President of the Council (it is now +that we first meet him as <a id="page008" name="page008" title="8" class="page"></a>an epistoler), and early in 1851 was +appointed by his chief to an inspectorship of schools. Having now a +livelihood, he married, in June of that year, Frances Lucy Wightman, +daughter of a judge of the Queen’s Bench. Their first child, Thomas, +was born on July 6, 1852, and Mr Arnold was now completely estated in +the three positions of husband, father, and inspector of schools, +which occupied—to his great delight in the first two cases, not quite +so in the third—most of his life that was not given to literature. +Some not ungenerous but perhaps rather unnecessary indignation has +been spent upon his “drudgery” and its scanty rewards. It is enough to +say that few men can arrange at their pleasure the quantity and +quality of their work, and that not every man, even of genius, has had +his bread-and-butter secured for life at eight-and-twenty. +</p> + +<p> +But in the ten or twelve years which had passed since <i class="title">Alaric at +Rome</i>, literature itself had been by no means neglected, and in +another twelvemonth after the birth of his first-born, Matthew Arnold +had practically established his claim as a poet by utterances to which +he made comparatively small additions later, though more than half his +life was yet to run. And he had issued one prose exercise in +criticism, of such solidity and force as had not been shown by any +poet since Dryden, except Coleridge. +</p> + +<p> +These documents can hardly be said to include the Newdigate poem +(<i class="title">Cromwell</i>) of 1843: they consist of <i class="title">The Strayed Reveller and +other Poems</i>, by “A.,” 1849; <i class="title">Empedocles on Etna, and other +Poems</i>, [still] by “A.,” <a id="page009" name="page009" title="9" class="page"></a>1852; and <i class="title">Poems</i> by Matthew Arnold, +a new edition, 1853—the third consisting of the contents of the two +earlier, with <i class="title">Empedocles</i> and a few minor things omitted, but +with very important additions, including <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum, The +Church of Brou, Requiescat</i>, and <i class="title">The Scholar-Gipsy</i>. The +contents of all three must be carefully considered, and the +consideration may be prefaced by a few words on <i class="title">Cromwell</i>. +</p> + +<p> +This <span title="agonisma" lang="el" class="greek">ἀγώνισμα</span>, like the other, Mr Arnold never included in any +collection of his work; but it was printed at Oxford in the year of +its success, and again at the same place, separately or with other +prize poems, in 1846, 1863, and 1891. It may also be found in the +useful non-copyright edition above referred to. Couched in the +consecrated couplet, but not as of old limited to fifty lines, it is +“good rhymes,” as the elder Mr Pope used to say to the younger; but a +prudent taster would perhaps have abstained, even more carefully than +in the case of the <i class="title">Alaric</i>, from predicting a real poet in the +author. It is probably better than six Newdigates out of seven at +least, but it has no distinction. The young, but not so very young, +poet—he was as old as Tennyson when he produced his unequal but +wonderful first volume—begins by borrowing Wordsworth’s two voices of +the mountain and the sea, shows some impression here and there from +Tennyson’s own master-issue, the great collection of 1842, which had +appeared a year before, ventures on an Alexandrine— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> +“Between the barren mountains and the stormy sea”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +<a id="page010" name="page010" title="10" class="page"></a>which comes as a +pleasant relief, and displays more than once (as he did afterwards in +<i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i>) an uncertain but by no means infelicitous +variety of couplet which he never fully or fairly worked out, but left +for Mr William Morris to employ with success many years later. +Otherwise the thing is good, but negligible. It would have taken an +extremely strong competition, or an extremely incompetent examiner, to +deprive it of the prize; but he must have been a sanguine man who, in +giving the author that prize, expected to receive from him returns of +poetry. +</p> + +<p> +Yet they came. If we did not know that the middle of this century was +one of the nadirs of English<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-5" class="link">[5]</a></span> criticism, and if we did not know +further that even good critics often go strangely wrong both in praise +and in blame of new verse, it would be most surprising that <i class="title">The +Strayed Reveller</i> volume should have attracted so little attention. +It is full of faults, but that is part of <a id="page011" name="page011" title="11" class="page"></a>the beauty of it. Some of +these faults are those which, persevering, prevented Mr Arnold from +attaining a higher position than he actually holds in poetry; but no +critic could know that. There is nothing here worse, or more +necessarily fatal, than many things in Tennyson’s 1830 and 1832 +collections: he overwent those, so might Mr Arnold have overgone +these. And the promise—nay, the performance—is such as had been seen +in no verse save Tennyson’s, and the almost unnoticed Browning’s, for +some thirty years. The title-poem, though it should have pleased even +a severe judge, might have aroused uncomfortable doubts even in an +amiable one. In the first place, its rhymelessness is a caprice, a +will-worship. Except blank verse, every rhymeless metre in English has +on it the curse of the <i lang="fr">tour de force</i>, of the acrobatic. Campion +and Collins, Southey and Shelley, have done great things in it; but +neither <i class="title">Rose-cheeked Laura</i> nor <i class="title">Evening</i>, neither the +great things in <i class="title">Thalaba</i> nor the great things in <i class="title">Queen +Mab</i>, can escape the charge of being caprices. And caprice, as some +have held, is the eternal enemy of art. +</p> + +<p> +But the caprice of <i class="title">The Strayed Reveller</i> does not cease with its +rhymelessness. The rhythm and the line-division are also studiously +odd, unnatural, paradoxical. Except for the “poetic diction” of +putting “Goddess” after “Circe” instead of before it, the first stave +is merely a prose sentence, of strictly prosaic though not +inharmonious rhythm. But in this stave there is no instance of the +strangest peculiarity, and what seems to some <a id="page012" name="page012" title="12" class="page"></a>the worst fault of the +piece, the profusion of broken-up decasyllables, which sometimes +suggest a very “corrupt” manuscript, or a passage of that singular +stuff in the Caroline dramatists which is neither blank verse, nor any +other, nor prose. Here are a few out of many instances— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="il2">“Is it, then, evening</span><br /> + So soon? [<em>I see the night-dews<br /> + Clustered in thick beads</em>], dim,” etc.<br /> +<span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><br /> + [“<em>When the white dawn first<br /> + Through the rough fir-planks.</em>”]<br /> +<span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><br /> + [“<em>Thanks, gracious One!<br /> + Ah! the sweet fumes again.</em>”]<br /> +<span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><span class="rowdot">·</span><br /> + [“<em>They see the Centaurs<br /> + In the upper glens.</em>”]<br /> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +One could treble these—indeed in one instance (the +sketch of the Indian) the entire stanza of <em>eleven</em> lines, by the +insertion of one “and” only, becomes a smooth blank-verse piece of +<em>seven</em>, two of which are indeed hemistichs, and three +“weak-ended,” but only such as are frequent in Shakespeare— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “They see the Indian drifting, knife in hand,<br /> + His frail boat moored to a floating isle—thick-matted<br /> + With large-leaved [<em>and</em>] low-creeping melon-plants<br /> + And the dark cucumber.<br /> + He reaps and stows them, drifting, drifting: round him,<br /> + Round his green harvest-plot, flow the cool lake-waves,<br /> + The mountains ring them.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Nor, perhaps, though the poem is a pretty one, will it stand criticism +of a different kind much better. Such <a id="page013" name="page013" title="13" class="page"></a>mighty personages as Ulysses and +Circe are scarcely wanted as mere bystanders and “supers” to an +imaginative young gentleman who enumerates, somewhat promiscuously, a +few of the possible visions of the Gods. There is neither classical, +nor romantic, nor logical justification for any such mild effect of +the dread Wine of Circe: and one is driven to the conclusion that the +author chiefly wanted a frame, after his own fashion, for a set of +disconnected vignettes like those of Tennyson’s <i class="title">Palace of Art</i> +and <i class="title">Dream of Fair Women</i>. +</p> + +<p> +But if the title poem is vulnerable, there is plenty of compensation. +The opening sonnet— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Two lessons, Nature, let me learn of thee”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +is perhaps rather learnt from Wordsworth, yet it does not fail to +strike the note which fairly differentiates the Arnoldian variety of +Wordsworthianism—the note which rings from <i class="title">Resignation</i> to +<i class="title">Poor Matthias</i>, and which is a very curious cross between two +things that at first sight may seem unmarriageable, the Wordsworthian +enthusiasm and the Byronic despair. But of this<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-6" class="link">[6]</a></span> more when we have +had more of its examples before us. The second piece in the volume +must, or should, have struck—for there is very little evidence that +it did strike—readers of the volume as something at once considerable +and, in no small measure, new. <i class="title">Mycerinus</i>, a piece of some 120 +lines or so, in thirteen six-line stanzas and a blank-verse +<i lang="it">coda</i>, is one of those <a id="page014" name="page014" title="14" class="page"></a>characteristic poems of this century, +which are neither mere “copies of verses,” mere occasional pieces, nor +substantive compositions of the old kind, with at least an attempt at +a beginning, middle, and end. They attempt rather situations than +stories, rather facets than complete bodies of thought, or +description, or character. They supply an obvious way of escape for +the Romantic tendency which does not wish to break wholly with +classical tradition; and above all, they admit of indulgence in that +immense <em>variety</em> which seems to have become one of the chief +devices of modern art, attempting the compliances necessary to gratify +modern taste. +</p> + +<p> +The Herodotean anecdote of the Egyptian King Mycerinus, his +indignation at the sentence of death in six years as a recompense for +his just rule, and his device of lengthening his days by revelling all +night, is neither an unpromising nor a wholly promising subject. The +foolish good sense of Mr Toots would probably observe—and justly—that +before six years, or six months, or even six days were over, King +Mycerinus must have got very sleepy; and the philosophic mind would +certainly recall the parallel of Cleobis and Biton as to the best gift +for man. Mr Arnold, however, draws no direct moral. The stanza-part of +the poem, the king’s expostulation, contains very fine poetry, and +“the note” rings again throughout it, especially in the couplet— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “And prayers, and gifts, and tears, are fruitless all,<br /> + <em>And the night waxes, and the shadows fall</em>.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +<a id="page015" name="page015" title="15" class="page"></a>The blank-verse tail-piece is finer still in execution; it is, with +the still finer companion-<i lang="it">coda</i> of <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>, the +author’s masterpiece in the kind, and it is, like that, an early and +consummate example of Mr Arnold’s favourite device of finishing +without a finish, of “playing out the audience,” so to speak, with +something healing and reconciling, description, simile, what not, to +relieve the strain of his generally sad philosophy and his often +melancholy themes. +</p> + +<p> +One may less admire, despite its famous and often-quoted line, +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +the sonnet <i class="title">To a Friend</i>, praising Homer and Epictetus and +Sophocles, for it seems to some to have a smatch of priggishness. Nor +am I one of those who think very highly of the much longer <i class="title">Sick +King in Bokhara</i> which (with a fragment of an <i class="title">Antigone</i>, +whereof more hereafter) follows, as this sonnet precedes, <i class="title">The +Strayed Reveller</i> itself. There is “the note,” again, and I daresay +the orientalism has the exactness of colour on which, as we know from +the <i class="title">Letters</i>, Mr Arnold prided himself. Yet the handling of the +piece seems to me prolix and uncertain, and the drift either very +obscure or somewhat unimportant. But about the <i class="title">Shakespeare</i> +sonnet which follows there can be no controversy among the competent. +“Almost adequate” is in such a case the highest praise; and it must be +given. +</p> + +<p> +The companions of this sonnet are respectable, but <a id="page016" name="page016" title="16" class="page"></a>do not deserve much +warmer words; and then we turn to a style of poem remarkably different +from anything which the author had yet published and from most of his +subsequent work. It is not unnoteworthy that the batch of poems called +in the later collected editions <i class="title">Switzerland</i>, and completed at +last by the piece called <i class="title">On the Terrace at Berne</i>, appeared +originally piecemeal, and with no indication of connection. The first +of its numbers is here, <i class="title">To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender +Leave-taking</i>. It applies both the note of thought which has been +indicated, and the quality of style which had already disengaged +itself, to the commonest—the greatest—theme of poetry, but to one +which this poet had not yet tried—to Love. Let it be remembered that +the thought has the cast of a strictly pessimist quietism—that the +style aims, if it aims at any single thing, at the reproduction of the +simpler side of classicalism, at an almost prim and quakerish +<em>elegance</em>, a sort of childlike grace. There is, however, by no +means any great austerity in the tone: on the contrary, the refrain +(altered later)— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Ere the parting kiss be dry,<br /> + Quick! thy tablets, Memory!”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +approaches the luscious. It is not easy to decide, and it is perhaps +in both senses impertinent to speculate, whether the “Marguerite” +(whose La Tour-like portrait is drawn in this piece with such relish, +and who is so philosophically left to her fate by her lover on the +<a id="page017" name="page017" title="17" class="page"></a>Terrace at Berne later) had any live original. She seems a little more +human in some ways than most of those cloud-Junos of the poets, the +heroines of sonnet-sequence and song-string. She herself has a +distinct touch of philosophy, anticipating with nonchalant resignation +the year’s severance, and with equally nonchalant anticipation the +time when +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Some day next year I shall be,<br /> + Entering heedless, kissed by thee.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Her wooer paints her with gusto, but scarcely with ardour; and ends +with the boding note— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Yet, if little stays with man,<br /> + Ah! retain we all we can!”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +seeming to be at least as doubtful of his own constancy as of hers. +Nor do we meet her again in the volume. The well-known complementary +pieces which make up <i class="title">Switzerland</i> were either not written, or +held back. +</p> + +<p> +The inferior but interesting <i class="title">Modern Sappho</i>, almost the poet’s +only experiment in “Moore-ish” method and melody— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “They are gone—all is still! Foolish heart, dost thou quiver?”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +is a curiosity rather than anything else. The style is ill suited to +the thought; besides, Matthew Arnold, a master at times of blank +verse, and of the statelier stanza, was less often an adept at the +lighter and more rushing lyrical measures. He is infinitely more at +home in the beautiful <i class="title">New Sirens</i>, which, for what <a id="page018" name="page018" title="18" class="page"></a>reason it is +difficult to discover, he never reprinted till many years later, +partly at Mr Swinburne’s most judicious suggestion. The scheme is +trochaic, and Mr Arnold (deriving beyond all doubt inspiration from +Keats) was happier than most poets with that charming but difficult +foot. The note is the old one of yearning rather than passionate +melancholy, applied in a new way and put most clearly, though by no +means most poetically, in the lines— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + <span class="il1">“Can men worship the wan features,</span><br /> + <span class="il1">The sunk eyes, the wailing tone,</span><br /> + <span class="il1">Of unsphered, discrowned creatures,</span><br /> + Souls as little godlike as their own?” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +The answer is, “No,” of course; but, as some one informed Mr Arnold +many years later, we knew that before, and it is distressing to be +told it, as we are a little later, with a rhyme of “dawning” and +“morning.” Yet the poem is a very beautiful one—in some ways the +equal of its author’s best up to this time; at least he had yet done +nothing except the <i class="title">Shakespeare</i> sonnet equal to the splendid +stanza beginning— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “And we too, from upland valleys;” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and the cry of the repentant sirens, punished as they had sinned— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “‘Come,’ you say, ‘the hours are dreary.’” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Yet the strong Tennysonian influence (which the poet rather +ungraciously kicked against in his criticism) shows <a id="page019" name="page019" title="19" class="page"></a>itself here also; +and we know perfectly well that the good lines— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “When the first <em>rose</em> flush was steeping<br /> + All the frore peak’s <em>awful</em> crown”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +are but an unconscious reminiscence of the great ones— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “And on the glimmering summit far withdrawn,<br /> + God made himself an <em>awful rose</em> of dawn.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +He kept this level, though here following not Tennyson or Keats but +Shelley, in the three ambitious and elaborate lyrics, <i class="title">The +Voice</i>, <i class="title">To Fausta</i>, and <i class="title">Stagirius</i>, fine things, if +somehow a little suggestive of inability on their author’s part fully +to meet the demands of the forms he attempts—“the note,” in short, +expressed practically as well as in theory. <i class="title">Stagirius</i> in +particular wants but a very little to be a perfect expression of the +obstinate questionings of the century; and yet wanting a little, it +wants so much! Others, <i class="title">To a Gipsy Child</i> and <i class="title">The Hayswater +Boat</i> (Mr Arnold never reprinted this), are but faint Wordsworthian +echoes; and thus we come to <i class="title">The Forsaken Merman</i>. +</p> + +<p> +It is, I believe, not so “correct” as it once was to admire this; but +I confess indocility to correctness, at least the correctness which +varies with fashion. <i class="title">The Forsaken Merman</i> is not a perfect poem—it +has <i lang="fr">longueurs</i>, though it is not long; it has those +inadequacies, those incompetences of expression, which are so oddly +characteristic of its author; and his elaborate simplicity, though +more at home here than in some other places, <a id="page020" name="page020" title="20" class="page"></a>occasionally gives a +dissonance. But it is a great poem—one by itself, one which finds and +keeps its own place in the foreordained gallery or museum, with which +every true lover of poetry is provided, though he inherits it by +degrees. No one, I suppose, will deny its pathos; I should be sorry +for any one who fails to perceive its beauty. The brief picture of the +land, and the fuller one of the sea, and that (more elaborate still) +of the occupations of the fugitive, all have their own charm. But the +triumph of the piece is in one of those metrical <i lang="fr">coups</i> which +give the triumph of all the greatest poetry, in the sudden change from +the slower movements of the earlier stanzas or strophes to the quicker +sweep of the famous conclusion— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The salt tide rolls seaward,<br /> + Lights shine from the town”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +to +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “She left lonely for ever<br /> + The kings of the sea.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Here the poet’s poetry has come to its own. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">In Utrumque Paratus</i> sounds the note again, and has one +exceedingly fine stanza:— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Thin, thin the pleasant human noises grow,<br /> + <span class="il2">And faint the city gleams;</span><br /> + Rare the lone pastoral huts—marvel not thou!<br /> + The solemn peaks but to the stars are known,<br /> + But to the stars, and the cold lunar beams;<br /> + Alone the sun arises, and alone<br /> + <span class="il2">Spring the great streams.”</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +But <i class="title">Resignation</i>, the last poem in the book, goes far <a id="page021" name="page021" title="21" class="page"></a>higher. +Again, it is too long; and, as is not the case in the <i class="title">Merman</i>, +or even in <i class="title">The Strayed Reveller</i> itself, the <em>general</em> +drift of the poem, the allegory (if it be an allegory) of the two +treadings of “the self-same road” with Fausta and so forth, is +unnecessarily obscure, and does not tempt one to spend much trouble in +penetrating its obscurity. But the splendid passage beginning— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The Poet to whose mighty heart,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and ending— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “His sad lucidity of soul,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +has far more interest than concerns the mere introduction, in this +last line itself, of one of the famous Arnoldian catchwords of later +years. It has far more than lies even in its repetition, with fuller +detail, of what has been called the author’s main poetic note of +half-melancholy contemplation of life. It has, once more, the interest +of <em>poetry</em>—of poetical presentation, which is independent of +any subject or intention, which is capable of being adapted perhaps to +all, certainly to most, which lies in form, in sound, in metre, in +imagery, in language, in suggestion—rather than in matter, in sense, +in definite purpose or scheme. +</p> + +<p> +It is one of the heaviest indictments against the criticism of the +mid-nineteenth century that this remarkable book—the most remarkable +first book of verse that appeared between Tennyson’s and Browning’s <a id="page022" name="page022" title="22" class="page"></a>in +the early thirties and <i class="title">The Defence of Guenevere</i> in 1858—seems +to have attracted next to no notice at all. It received neither the +ungenerous and purblind, though not wholly unjust, abuse which in the +long—run did so much good to Tennyson himself, nor the absurd and +pernicious bleatings of praise which have greeted certain novices of +late years. It seems to have been simply let alone, or else made the +subject of quite insignificant comments. +</p> + +<p> +In the same year (1849) Mr Arnold was represented in the +<i class="title">Examiner</i> of July 21 by a sonnet to the Hungarian nation, which +he never included in any book, and which remained peacefully in the +dust-bin till a reference in his <i class="title">Letters</i> quite recently set the +ruthless reprinter on its track. Except for an ending, itself not very +good, the thing is quite valueless: the author himself says to his +mother, “it is not worth much.” And three years passed before he +followed up his first volume with a second, which should still more +clearly have warned the intelligent critic that here was somebody, +though such a critic would not have been guilty of undue hedging if he +had professed himself still unable to decide whether a new great poet +had arisen or not. +</p> + +<p> +This volume was <i class="title">Empedodes on Etna and other Poems</i>, [still] +<i class="title">By A.</i> London: Fellowes, 1852. It contained two attempts—the +title-piece and <i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i>—much longer and more +ambitious than anything that the poet had yet done, and thirty-three +<a id="page023" name="page023" title="23" class="page"></a>smaller poems, of which two—<i class="title">Destiny</i> and <i class="title">Courage</i>—were +never reprinted. It was again very unequal—perhaps more so than the +earlier volume, though it went higher and oftener high. But the author +became dissatisfied with it very shortly after its appearance in the +month of October, and withdrew it when, as is said, less than fifty +copies had been sold. +</p> + +<p> +One may perhaps not impertinently doubt whether the critical reason, +<i lang="la">v. infra</i>—in itself a just and penetrating one, as well as +admirably expressed—which, in the Preface of the 1853 collection, the +poet gave for its exclusion (save in very small part) from that volume +tells the whole truth. At any rate, I think most good judges quarrel +with <i class="title">Empedodes</i>, not because the situation is unmanageable, but +because the poet has not managed it. The contrast, in dramatic trio, +of the world-worn and disappointed philosopher, the practical and +rather prosaic physician, and the fresh gifts and unspoilt gusto of +the youthful poet, is neither impossible nor unpromising. Perhaps, as +a situation, it is a little nearer than Mr Arnold quite knew to that +of <i class="title">Paracelsus</i>, and it is handled with less force, if with more +clearness, than Browning’s piece. But one does not know what is more +amiss with it than is amiss with most of its author’s longer pieces—namely, +that neither story nor character—drawing was his +<i lang="it">forte</i>, that the dialogue is too colourless, and that though the +description is often charming, it is seldom masterly. As before, there +are jarring rhymes—<a id="page024" name="page024" title="24" class="page"></a>“school” and “oracle,” “Faun” and “scorn.” +Empedocles himself is sometimes dreadfully tedious; but the part of +Callicles throughout is lavishly poetical. Not merely the show +passages—that which the Roman father, +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Though young, intolerably severe,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +saved from banishment and retained by itself in the 1853 volume, as +<i class="title">Cadmus and Harmonia</i>, and the beautiful lyrical close,—but the +picture of the highest wooded glen on Etna, and the Flaying of +Marsyas, are delightful things. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i>, with fewer good patches, has a greater +technical interest. It is only one, but it is the most remarkable, of +the places where we perceive in Mr Arnold one of the most curious of +the notes of transition-poets. They will not frankly follow another’s +metrical form, and they cannot strike out a new one for themselves. In +this piece the author—most attractively to the critic, if not always +quite satisfactorily to the reader—makes for, and flits about, +half-a-dozen different forms of verse. Now it is the equivalenced +octosyllable of the Coleridgean stamp rather than of Scott’s or +Byron’s; now trochaic decasyllabics of a rather rococo kind; and once +at least a splendid anapæstic couplet, which catches the ear and +clings to the memory for a lifetime— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “What voices are these on the clear night air?<br /> + What lights in the court? What steps on the stair?” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +But the most interesting experiment by far is in the <a id="page025" name="page025" title="25" class="page"></a>rhymed heroic, +which appears fragmentarily in the first two parts and substantively +in the third. The interest of this, which (one cannot but regret it) +Mr Arnold did not carry further, relapsing on a stiff if stately blank +verse, is not merely intrinsic, but both retrospective and +prospective. It is not the ordinary “stopped” eighteenth-century +couplet at all; nor the earlier one of Drayton and Daniel. It is the +“enjambed,” very mobile, and in the right hands admirably fluent and +adaptable couplet, which William Browne and Chamberlayne practised in +the early and middle seventeenth century, which Leigh Hunt revived and +taught to Keats, and of which, later than Mr Arnold himself, Mr +William Morris was such an admirable practitioner. Its use here is +decidedly happy; and the whole of this part shows in Mr Arnold a +temporary Romantic impulse, which again we cannot but regret that he +did not obey. The picture-work of the earlier lines is the best he +ever did. The figure of Iseult with the White Hands stands out with +the right Præ-Raphaelite distinctness and charm; and the story of +Merlin and Vivian, with which, in the manner so dear to him, he +diverts the attention of the reader from the main topic at the end, is +beautifully told. For attaching quality on something like a large +scale I should put this part of <i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i> much above +both <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i> and <i class="title">Balder Dead</i>; but the earlier +parts are not worthy of it, and the whole, like <i class="title">Empedocles</i>, is +something of a failure, though both poems afford ample consolation in +passages. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="page026" name="page026" title="26" class="page"></a>The smaller pieces, however, could have saved the volume had their +larger companions been very much weaker. The <i class="title">Memorial Verses</i> on +Wordsworth (published first in <i class="title">Fraser</i>) have taken their place +once for all. If they have not the poetical beauty in different ways +of Carew on Donne, of Dryden on Oldham, even of Tickell upon Addison, +of <i class="title">Adonais</i> above all, of Wordsworth’s own beautiful +<i class="title">Effusion</i> on the group of dead poets in 1834, they do not fall +far short even in this respect. And for adequacy of meaning, not +unpoetically expressed, they are almost supreme. If Mr Arnold’s own +unlucky and maimed definition of poetry as “a criticism of life” had +been true, they would be poetry in quintessence; and, as it is, they +are poetry. +</p> + +<p> +Far more so is the glorious <i class="title">Summer Night</i>, which came near the +middle of the book. There is a cheering doctrine of mystical optimism +which will have it that a sufficiently intense devotion to any ideal +never fails of at least one moment of consummate realisation and +enjoyment. Such a moment was granted to Matthew Arnold when he wrote +<i class="title">A Summer Night</i>. Whether that rather vague life-philosophy of +his, that erection of a melancholy agnosticism <i lang="la">plus</i> asceticism +into a creed, was anything more than a not ungraceful or undignified +will-worship of Pride, we need not here argue out. But we have seen +how faithfully the note of it rings through the verse of these years. +And here it rings not only faithfully, but almost triumphantly. The +<a id="page027" name="page027" title="27" class="page"></a>lips are touched at last: the eyes are thoroughly opened to see what +the lips shall speak: the brain almost unconsciously frames and fills +the adequate and inevitable scheme. And, as always at these right +poetic moments, the minor felicities follow the major. The false +rhymes are nowhere; the imperfect phrases, the little sham +simplicities or pedantries, hide themselves; and the poet is free, +from the splendid opening landscape through the meditative exposition, +and the fine picture of the shipwreck, to the magnificent final +invocation of the “Clearness divine!” +</p> + +<p> +His freedom, save once, is not so unquestionably exhibited in the +remarkable group of poems—the future constituents of the +<i class="title">Switzerland</i> group, but still not classified under any special +head—which in the original volume chiefly follow <i class="title">Empedocles</i>, +with the batch later called “Faded Leaves” to introduce them. It is, +perhaps, if such things were worth attempting at all, an argument for +supposing some real undercurrent of fact or feeling in them, that they +are not grouped at their first appearance, and that some of them are +perhaps designedly separated from the rest. Even the name “Marguerite” +does not appear in <i class="title">A Farewell</i>; though nobody who marked as well +as read, could fail to connect it with the <i class="title">To my Friends</i> of the +former volume. We are to suppose, it would appear, that the +twelvemonth has passed, and that Marguerite’s anticipation of the +renewed kiss is fulfilled in the first stanzas. But the lover’s +anticipation, too, is fulfilled, <a id="page028" name="page028" title="28" class="page"></a>though as usual not quite as he made +it; he wearies of his restless and yet unmasterful passion; he rather +muses and morals in his usual key on the “way of a man with a maid” +than complains or repines. And then we go off for a time from +Marguerite, though not exactly from Switzerland, in the famous +“<i class="title">Obermann</i>” stanzas, a variation of the Wordsworth memorial +lines, melodious, but a very little <em>impotent</em>—the English +utterance of what Sainte-Beuve, I think, called “the discouraged +generation of 1850.” Now mere discouragement, except as a passing +mood, though extremely natural, is also a little contemptible— +pessimism-and-water, mere peevishness to the “fierce indignation,” +mere whining compared with the great ironic despair. As for +<i class="title">Consolation</i>, which in form as in matter strongly resembles part +of the <i class="title">Strayed Reveller</i>, I must say, at the risk of the charge +of Philistinism, that I cannot see why most of it should not have been +printed as prose. In fact, it would be a very bold and astonishingly +ingenious person who, not knowing the original, perceived any +verse-division in this— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> + “The bleak, stern hour, whose severe moments I would annihilate, + is passed by others in warmth, light, joy.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Nor perhaps can very much be said for some of the other things. The +sonnet afterwards entitled <i class="title">The World’s Triumphs</i> is not strong; +<i class="title">The Second Best</i> is but “a chain of extremely valuable +thoughts”; <i class="title">Revolution</i> a conceit. <i class="title">The Youth of Nature</i> and +<i class="title">The Youth of <a id="page029" name="page029" title="29" class="page"></a>Man</i> do but take up less musically the +<i lang="el">threnos</i> for Wordsworth. But <i class="title">Morality</i> is both rhyme and +poetry; <i class="title">Progress</i> is at least rhyme; and <i class="title">The Future</i>, +though rhymeless again, is the best of all Mr Arnold’s waywardnesses +of this kind. It is, however, in the earlier division of the smaller +poems—those which come between <i class="title">Empedocles</i> and <i class="title">Tristram</i>—that +the interest is most concentrated, and that the best thing—better +as far as its subject is concerned even than the <i class="title">Summer +Night</i>—appears. For though all does <em>not</em> depend upon the +subject, yet of two poems equally good in other ways, that which has +the better subject will be the better. Here we have the bulk of the +“Marguerite” or <i class="title">Switzerland</i> poems—in other words, we leave the +windy vagaries of mental indigestion and come to the real things—Life +and Love. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">The River</i> does not name any one, though the “arch eyes” +identify Marguerite; and <i class="title">Excuse</i>, <i class="title">Indifference</i>, and <i class="title">Too +Late</i> are obviously of the company. But none of these is exactly of +the first class. We grow warmer with <i class="title">On the Rhine</i>, containing, +among other things, the good distich— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Eyes too expressive to lie blue,<br /> + Too lovely to be grey”; +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +on which Mr Swinburne gave a probably unconscious <i lang="el">scholion</i> as +well as variation in his own— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Those eyes, the greenest of things blue,<br /> + The bluest of things grey.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +The intense pathos, which the poet could rarely <a id="page030" name="page030" title="30" class="page"></a>“let himself go” +sufficiently to reach, together with the seventeenth-century touch +which in English not unfrequently rewards the self-sacrifice necessary +to scholarly poets in such abandonment, appears in <i class="title">Longing</i>; +<i class="title">The Lake</i> takes up the faint thread of story gracefully enough; +and <i class="title">Parting</i> does the same with more importance in a +combination, sometimes very effective, of iambic couplets and +anapaestic strophes, and with a touch of direct if not exalted nature +in its revelation of that terrible thing, retrospective jealousy, in +the lover. Woe to the man who allows himself to think— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “To the lips! ah! of others<br /> + Those lips have been pressed,<br /> + And others, ere I was,<br /> + Were clasped to that breast,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and who does not at once exorcise the demon with the fortunately +all-potent spell of <i class="title">Bocca bacciata</i>, and the rest! +<i class="title">Absence</i> +and <i class="title">Destiny</i> show him in the same Purgatory; and it is +impossible to say that he has actually escaped in the crowning poem of +the series—the crowning-point perhaps of his poetry, the piece +beginning +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Yes! in the sea of life enisled.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +It is neither uninteresting nor unimportant that this exquisite piece, +by a man’s admiration of which (for there are some not wholly lost, +who do <em>not</em> admire it) his soundness in the Catholic Faith of +poetry may be tested, perhaps as well as by any other, has borne <a id="page031" name="page031" title="31" class="page"></a>more +than one or two titles, It is in the 1852 volume, <i class="title">To Marguerite. In +returning a volume of the letters of Ortis</i>. In 1853 it became +<i class="title">Isolation</i>, its best name; and later it took the much less +satisfactory one of <i class="title">To Marguerite—continued</i>, being +annexed to another. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">Isolation</i> is preferable for many reasons; not least because the +actual Marguerite appears nowhere in the poem, and, except in the +opening monosyllable, can hardly be said to be even rhetorically +addressed. The poet’s affection—it is scarcely passion—is there, but +in transcendence: he meditates more than he feels. And that function +of the riddle of the painful earth which Lucretius, thousands of years +ago, put in his grim <i class="title">Nequicquam!</i> which one of Mr Arnold’s own +contemporaries formulated with less magnificence and more popularity, +but still with music and truth in <i class="title">Strangers Yet</i>—here receives +almost its final poetical expression. The image—the islands in the +sea—is capitally projected in the first stanza; it is exquisitely +amplified in the second; the moral comes with due force in the third; +and the whole winds up with one of the great poetic phrases of the +century—one of the “jewels five [literally five!] words long” of +English verse—a phrase complete and final, with epithets in unerring +cumulation— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The unplumb’d, salt, estranging sea.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +<i class="title">Human Life</i>, no ill thing in itself, reads a little <a id="page032" name="page032" title="32" class="page"></a>weakly after +<i class="title">Isolation</i>; but <i class="title">Despondency</i> is a pretty piece of +melancholy, and, with a comfortable stool, will suit a man well. In +the sonnet, <i class="title">When I shall be divorced</i>, Mr Arnold tried the +Elizabethan vein with less success than in his Shakespeare piece; and +<i class="title">Self-Deception</i> and <i class="title">Lines written by a Death-Bed</i>, with +some beauty have more monotony. The closing lines of the last are at +the same time the moral of the book and the formula of the Arnoldian +“note”— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Calm’s not life’s crown, though calm is well.<br /> + ’Tis all perhaps which man acquires,<br /> + But ’tis not what our youth desires.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +Again, we remember some one’s parody-remonstrance thirty years later, +and again we may think that the condemnation which Mr Arnold himself +was soon to pronounce upon <i class="title">Empedocles</i> is rather disastrously +far-reaching, while even this phrase is a boomerang. Musical and +philosophical despair is one of the innumerable strings of the poetic +lyre; but ’tis not what our youth, or our age either, desires for a +monochord. +</p> + +<p> +The remarkable manifesto just referred to was not long delayed. +Whatever may have been his opinion as to the reception of the two +volumes “by A,” he made up his mind, a year after the issue and +withdrawal of the second, to put forth a third, with his name, and +containing, besides a full selection from the other two, fresh +specimens of the greatest importance. In <a id="page033" name="page033" title="33" class="page"></a>the two former there had been +no avowed “purpose”; here, not merely were the contents sifted on +principle, the important <i class="title">Empedocles</i> as well as some minor +things being omitted: not merely did some of the new numbers, +especially <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>, directly and intentionally +illustrate the: poet’s theories, but those theories themselves were +definitely put in a <i class="title">Preface</i>, which is the most important +critical document issued in England for something like a generation, +and which, as prefixed by a poet to his poetry, admits no competitors +in English, except some work of Dryden’s and some of Wordsworth’s. +</p> + +<p> +Beginning with his reasons for discarding <i class="title">Empedocles</i>, reasons +which he sums up in a sentence, famous, but too important not to +require citation at least in a note,<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-7" class="link">[7]</a></span> he passes suddenly to the +reasons which were <em>not</em> his, and of which he makes a good +rhetorical starting-point for his main course. The bad critics of that +day had promulgated the doctrine, which they maintained till a time +within the memory of most men who have reached middle life, though the +error has since in the usual course given way to others—that “the +Poet <a id="page034" name="page034" title="34" class="page"></a>must leave the exhausted past and draw his subjects from matters +of present import.” This was the genuine +“<i class="title">Times</i>-<i lang="la">v.</i>-all-the-works-of-Thucydides” fallacy of the +mid-nineteenth century, the fine flower of Cobdenism, the heartfelt +motto of Philistia—as Philistia then was. For other times other +Philistines, and Ekron we have always with us, ready, as it was once +said, “to bestow its freedom in pinchbeck boxes” on its elect. +</p> + +<p> +This error Mr Arnold has no difficulty in laying low at once; but +unluckily his swashing blow carries him with it, and he falls headlong +into fresh error himself. “What,” he asks very well, “are the eternal +objects of Poetry, among all nations and at all times?” And he +answers—equally well, though not perhaps with impregnable logical +completeness and accuracy—“They are actions, human actions; +possessing an inherent interest in themselves, and which are to be +communicated in an interesting manner by the art of the Poet.” Here he +tells the truth, but not the whole truth; he should have added +“thoughts and feelings” to “actions,” or he deprives Poetry of half +her realm. But he is so far sufficient against his Harapha (for at +that date there were no critical Goliaths about). Human action +<em>does</em> possess an “inherent,” an “eternal,” poetical interest and +capacity in itself. That interest, that capacity, is incapable of +“exhaustion”—nay (as Mr Arnold, though with bad arguments as well as +good, urges later), it is, on the whole, a likelier subject for the +poet when it is old, because it is capable of being grasped and +presented <a id="page035" name="page035" title="35" class="page"></a>more certainly. But the defender hastens to indulge in more +than one of those dangerous sallies from his trenches which have been +fatal to so many heroes. He proclaims that the poet cannot “make an +intrinsically inferior action equally delightful with a more excellent +one by his treatment of it,” forgetting that, until the action is +presented, we do not know whether it is “inferior” or not. He asks, +“What modern poem presents personages as interesting as Achilles, +Prometheus, Clytemnestra, Dido?” unsuspicious, or perhaps reckless, of +the fact that not a few men, who admire and know the classics quite as +well as he does, will cheerfully take up his challenge at any weapons +he likes to name, and with a score of instances for his quartette. It +is true that, thanks to the ineptitude of his immediate antagonists, +he recovers himself not ill by cleverly selecting the respectable +Hermann and Dorothea, the stagy-romantic Childe Harold, the creature +called “Jocelyn,” and the shadowy or scrappy personages of the +<i class="title">Excursion</i>, to match against his four. But this is manifestly +unfair. To bring Lamartine and Wordsworth in as personage-makers is +only honest rhetorically (a kind of honesty on which Wamba or +Launcelot Gobbo shall put the gloss for us). Nay, even those to whom +Goethe and Byron are not the ideal of modern poetry may retort that +Mephistopheles—that even Faust himself—is a much more “interesting” +person than the sulky invulnerable son of Thetis, while Gulnare, +Parisina, and others are not much worse than Dido. But these are mere +details. +<a id="page036" name="page036" title="36" class="page"></a>The main purpose of the <i class="title">Preface</i> is to assert in the most +emphatic manner the Aristotelian (or partly Aristotelian) doctrine +that “All depends on the subject,” and to connect the assertion with a +further one, of which even less proof is offered, that “the Greeks +understood this far better than we do,” and that they were <em>also</em> +the unapproachable masters of “the grand style.” These positions, +which, to do Mr Arnold justice, he maintained unflinchingly to his +dying day, are supported, not exactly by argument, but by a great deal +of ingenious and audacious illustration and variation of statement, +even Shakespeare, even Keats, being arraigned for their wicked refusal +to subordinate “expression” to choice and conception of subject. The +merely Philistine modernism is cleverly set up again that it may be +easily smitten down; the necessity of Criticism, and of the study of +the ancients in order to it, is most earnestly and convincingly +championed; and the piece ends with its other famous sentence about +“the wholesome regulative laws of Poetry” and their “eternal enemy, +Caprice.” +</p> + +<p> +As Mr Arnold’s critical position will be considered as a whole later, +it would be waste of time to say very much more of this first +manifesto of his. It need only be observed that he might have been +already, as he often was later, besought to give some little notion of +what “the <em>grand style</em>” was; that, true and sound as is much of +the Preface, it is not a little exposed to the damaging retort, “Yes: +this <a id="page037" name="page037" title="37" class="page"></a>is <em>your</em> doxy, and she seems fair to you, no doubt; but so +does ours seem fair to us.” Moreover, the “all-depends-on-the-subject” +doctrine here, as always, swerves from one fatal difficulty. If, in +what pleases poetically, poetical expression is always present, while +in only some of what pleases poetically is the subject at the required +height, is it not illogical to rule out, as the source of the poetic +pleasure, that which is always present in favour of that which is +sometimes absent? +</p> + +<p> +We know from the <i class="title">Letters</i>—and we should have been able to +divine without them—that <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>, the first in +order, the largest in bulk, and the most ambitious in scheme of the +poems which appeared for the first time in the new volume, was written +in direct exemplification of the theories of the <i class="title">Preface</i>. The +theme is old, and though not “classical” in place, is thoroughly so in +its nature, being the story of a combat between a father and a son, +who know not each other till too late, of the generosity of the son, +of the final triumph of the father, of the <i class="term">anagnorisis</i>, with +the resignation of the vanquished and the victor’s despair. The medium +is blank verse, of a partly but not wholly Miltonic stamp, very +carefully written, and rising at the end into a really magnificent +strain, with the famous picture of “the majestic river” Oxus floating +on regardless of these human woes, to where the stars +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +<a id="page038" name="page038" title="38" class="page"></a>Even here, it is true, the Devil’s Advocate may ask whether this, like +the <i class="title">Mycerinus</i> close, that of <i class="title">Empedocles</i>, and others, +especially one famous thing, to which we shall come presently, is not +more of a purple tail-patch, a “tag,” a “curtain,” than of a +legitimate and integral finale. It is certain that Mr Arnold, +following the Greeks in intention no doubt, if not quite so closely as +he intended, was very fond of these “curtains”—these little +rhetorical reconciliations and soothings for the reader. But this is +the most in place of any of them, and certainly the noblest +<i lang="fr">tirade</i> that its author has left. +</p> + +<p> +Most of the new poems here are at a level but a little lower than this +part of <i class="title">Sohrab-and Rustum</i>, while some of them are even above it +as wholes. <i class="title">Philomela</i> is beautiful, in spite of the obstinate +will-worship of its unrhymed Pindaric: the <i class="title">Stanzas to the Memory of +Edward Quillinan</i> are really pathetic, though slightly irritating +in their “sweet simplicity”; and if <i class="title">Thekla’s Answer</i> is nothing +particular, <i class="title">The Neckan</i> nothing but a weaker doublet of the +<i class="title">Merman, A Dream</i> is noteworthy in itself, and as an outlier of +the <i class="title">Marguerite</i> group. Then we have three things, of which the +first is, though unequal, great at the close, while the other two rank +with the greatest things Mr Arnold ever did. These are <i class="title">The Church +of Brou</i>, <i class="title">Requiescat</i>, and <i class="title">The Scholar-Gipsy</i>. +</p> + +<p> +If, as no critic ever can, the critic could thoroughly discover the +secret of the inequality of <i class="title">The Church <a id="page039" name="page039" title="39" class="page"></a>of Brou</i>, he might, like +the famous pedant, “put away” Mr Arnold “fully conjugated in his +desk.” The poem is in theme and scheme purely Romantic, and +“nineteenth century” in its looking back to a simple and pathetic +story of the Middle Age—love, bereavement, and pious resignation. It +is divided into three parts. The first, in trochaic ballad metre, +telling the story, is one of the poet’s weakest things. You may oft +see as good in Helen Maria Williams and the Delia Cruscans. The +second, describing the church where the duke and duchess sleep, in an +eight-line stanza of good fashion, is satisfactory but nothing more. +And then the third, after a manner hardly paralleled save in Crashaw’s +<i class="title">Flaming Heart</i>, breaks from twaddle and respectable verse into a +rocket-rush of heroic couplets, scattering star-showers of poetry all +over and round the bewildered reader. It is artifice rather than art, +perhaps, to lisp and drawl, that, when you <em>do</em> speak out, your +speech may be the more effective. But hardly anything can make one +quarrel with such a piece of poetry as that beginning— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “So rest, for ever rest, O princely pair!” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and ending— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The rustle of the eternal rain of Love.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +On the other hand, in <i class="title">Requiescat</i> there is not a false note, +unless it be the dubious word “vasty” in the last line; and even that +may shelter itself under the <a id="page040" name="page040" title="40" class="page"></a>royal mantle of Shakespeare. The poet has +here achieved what he too often fails in, the triple union of +simplicity, pathos, and (in the best sense) elegance. The dangerous +repetitions of “roses, roses,” “tired, tired,” &c., come all right; +and above all he has the flexibility and quiver of metre that he too +often lacks. His trisyllabic interspersions—the leap in the vein that +makes iambic verse alive and passionate—are as happy as they can be, +and the relapse into the uniform dissyllabic gives just the right +contrast. He must be <span title="ê thêrion ê theos" lang="el" class="greek">ἢ θηρίον ἢ ηεὸς</span>—and whichever he +be, he is not to be envied—who can read <i class="title">Requiescat</i> for the +first or the fiftieth time without mist in the eyes and without a +catch in the voice. +</p> + +<p> +But the greatest of these—the greatest by far—is +<i class="title">The Scholar-Gipsy</i>. I have read—and that not once only, nor +only in the works of unlettered and negligible persons—expressions of +irritation at the local Oxonian colour. This is surely amazing. One +may not be an Athenian, and never have been at Athens, yet be able to +enjoy the local colour of the <i class="title">Phædrus</i>. One may not be an +Italian, and never have been in Italy, yet find the <i class="title">Divina +Commedia</i> made not teasing but infinitely vivid and agreeable by +Dante’s innumerable references to his country, Florentine and general. +That some keener thrill, some nobler gust, may arise in the reading of +the poem to those who have actually watched +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The line of festal light in Christ Church Hall” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +<a id="page041" name="page041" title="41" class="page"></a>from above Hinksey, who know the Fyfield elm in May, and have “trailed +their fingers in the stripling Thames” at Bablockhithe,—may be +granted. But in the name of Bandusia and of Gargarus, what offence can +these things give to any worthy wight who by his ill luck has not seen +them with eyes? The objection is so apt to suggest a suspicion, as +illiberal almost as itself, that one had better not dwell on it. +</p> + +<p> +Let us hope that there are after all few to whom it has presented +itself—that most, even if they be not sons by actual matriculation of +Oxford, feel that, as of other “Cities of God,” they are citizens of +her by spiritual adoption, and by the welcome accorded in all such +cities to God’s children. But if the scholar had been an alumnus of +Timbuctoo, and for Cumnor and Godstow had been substituted strange +places in <i>-wa</i> and <i>-ja</i>, I cannot think that, even to +those who are of Oxford, the intrinsic greatness of this noble poem +would be much affected, though it might lose a separable charm. For it +has everything—a sufficient scheme, a definite meaning and purpose, a +sustained and adequate command of poetical presentation, and passages +and phrases of the most exquisite beauty. Although it begins as a +pastoral, the mere traditional and conventional frippery of that form +is by no means so prominent in it as in the later (and, I think, less +consummate) companion and sequel <i class="title">Thyrsis</i>. With hardly an +exception, the poet throughout escapes in his phraseology the two main +dangers which so constantly beset him—too great stiffness <a id="page042" name="page042" title="42" class="page"></a>and too +great simplicity. His “Graian” personification is not overdone; his +landscape is exquisite; the stately stanza not merely sweeps, but +sways and swings, with as much grace as state. And therefore the +Arnoldian “note”—the special form of the <i lang="fr">maladie du siècle</i> +which, as we have seen, this poet chooses to celebrate—acquires for +once the full and due poetic expression and music, both symphonic and +in such special clangours as the never-to-be-too-often-quoted +distich— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Still nursing the unconquerable hope,<br /> + Still clutching the inviolable shade”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +which marks the highest point of the composition. +</p> + +<p> +The only part on which there may be some difference between admirers +is the final simile of the Tyrian trader. This finishes off the piece +in nineteen lines, of which the poet was—and justly—proud, which are +quite admirable by themselves, but which cannot perhaps produce any +very clear evidences of right to be where they are. No ingenuity can +work out the parallel between the “uncloudedly joyous” scholar who is +bid avoid the palsied, diseased <i lang="fr">enfants du siècle</i>, and the +grave Tyrian who was indignant at the competition of the merry Greek, +and shook out more sail to seek fresh markets. It is, once more, +simply an instance of Mr Arnold’s fancy for an end-note of relief, of +cheer, of pleasant contrast. On his own most rigid principles, I fear +it would have to go as a mere sewn-on patch of purple: on mine, I +welcome it as one of the most engaging <a id="page043" name="page043" title="43" class="page"></a>passages of a poem delightful +throughout, and at its very best the equal of anything that was +written in its author’s lifetime, fertile as that was in poetry. +</p> + +<p> +He himself, though he was but just over thirty when this poem +appeared, and though his life was to last for a longer period than had +passed since his birth to 1853, was to make few further contributions +to poetry itself. The reasons of this comparative sterility are +interesting, and not quite so obvious as they may appear. It is true, +indeed,—it is an arch-truth which has been too rarely recognised,—that +something like complete idleness, or at any rate complete freedom +from regular mental occupation, is necessary to the man who is to do +poetic work great in quality and in quantity at once. The hardest +occupation—and Mr Arnold’s, though hard, was not exactly that—will +indeed leave a man sufficient time, so far as mere time is concerned, +to turn out as much verse as the most fertile of poets has ever +produced. But then that will scarcely do. The Muses are feminine—and +it has been observed that you cannot make up even to the most amiable +and reasonable of that sex for refusing to attend to her at the minute +when she wants <em>you</em>, by devoting even hours, even days, when you +are at leisure for <em>her</em>. To put the thing more seriously, though +perhaps not more truly, the human brain is not so constituted that you +can ride or drive or “train” from school to school, examining as you +go, for half-a-dozen or half-a-score hours a-day, or that you can +devote the same time to the weariest and dreariest of all businesses, +<a id="page044" name="page044" title="44" class="page"></a>the reading of hundreds of all but identical answers to the same stock +questions, and yet be fresh and fertile for imaginative composition. +The nearest contradictory instances to this proposition are those of +Scott and Southey, and they are, in more ways than one or two, very +damaging instances—exceptions which, in a rather horrible manner, do +prove the rule. To less harassing, and especially less peremptory, +work than Mr Arnold’s, as well as far more literary in kind, Scott +sacrificed the minor literary graces, Southey immolated the choicer +fruits of genius which he undoubtedly possessed the power of +producing; and both “died from the top downward.” +</p> + +<p> +But there was something more than this. Mr Arnold’s poetic ambition, +as we have seen, did not aim at very long and elaborate works. His +forte was the occasional piece—which might still suggest itself and +be completed—which, as we shall see, did sometimes suggest itself and +was completed—in the intervals, the holidays, the relaxations of his +task. And if these lucid and lucent intervals, though existent, were +so rare, their existence and their rarity together suggest that +something more than untoward circumstance is to blame for the fact +that they did not show themselves oftener. A full and constant tide of +inspiration is imperative; it will not be denied; it may kill the poet +if he cannot or will not give vent to it, but it will not be patient +of repression—quietly content to appear now and then, even on such +occasions as the deaths of a Clough and <a id="page045" name="page045" title="45" class="page"></a>a Stanley. Nor is it against +charity or liberality, while it is in the highest degree consonant +with reason and criticism, to infer that Mr Arnold’s poetic vein was +not very full-blooded, that it was patient of refusal to indulge it, +that his poetry, in nearly the happiest of his master’s phrases, was +not exactly “inevitable,” despite the exquisiteness of its quality on +occasion. +</p> + +<p> +It is fortunate for the biographer that this earliest part of Mr +Arnold’s life is so fertile in poetry, for otherwise, in the dearth of +information, it would be a terribly barren subject. The thirty years +of life yield us hardly twenty pages of letters, of which the first, +with its already cited sketch of Laleham, is perhaps the most +interesting. At the Trafalgar Square riots of March 1848 the writer is +convinced that “the hour of the hereditary peerage and eldest sonship +and immense properties has struck”; sees “a wave of more than American +vulgarity, moral, intellectual, and social, preparing to break over +us”; and already holds that strange delusion of his that “the French +are the most civilised of European peoples.” He develops this on the +strength of “the intelligence of their idea-moved classes” in a letter +to his sister; meets Emerson in April; goes to a Chartist +“convention,” and has a pleasant legend for Miss Martineau that the +late Lord Houghton “refused to be sworn in as a special constable, +that he might be free to assume the post of President of the Republic +at a moment’s notice.” He continues to despair of his <a id="page046" name="page046" title="46" class="page"></a>country as +hopelessly as the Tuxford waiter;<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-8" class="link">[8]</a></span> finds Bournemouth “a very stupid +place”—which is distressing; it is a stupid place enough now, but it +was not then: “a great moorland covered with furze and low pine coming +down to the sea” could never be that—and meets Miss Brontë, “past +thirty and plain, with expressive grey eyes though.” The rest we must +imagine. +</p> + + + + +<h2><a id="page047" name="page047" title="47" class="page"></a><a id="ii" name="ii">Chapter II.</a></h2> + +<h3>Life from 1851-62—Second Series of <i class="title">Poems</i>—<i class="title">Merope</i>—<i class="title">On Translating +Homer</i>.</h3> + + +<p> +We must now return a little and give some account of Mr Arnold’s +actual life, from a period somewhat before that reached at the end of +the last chapter. The account need not be long, for the life, as has +been said, was not in the ordinary sense eventful; but it is +necessary, and can be in this chapter usefully interspersed with an +account of his work, which, for nine of the eleven years we shall +cover, was, though interesting, of much less interest than that of +those immediately before and those immediately succeeding. +</p> + +<p> +One understands at least part of the reason for the gradual drying up +of his poetic vein from a sentence of his in a letter of 1858, when he +and his wife at last took a house in Chester Square: “It will be +something to unpack one’s portmanteau for the first time since I was +married, nearly seven years ago.” “Something,” indeed; and one’s only +wonder is how he, and still more Mrs Arnold (especially as they now +had three children), <a id="page048" name="page048" title="48" class="page"></a>could have endured the other thing so long. There +is no direct information in the <i class="title">Letters</i> as to the reason of +this nomadic existence, the only headquarters of which appear to have +been the residence of Mrs Arnold’s father, the judge, in Eaton Place, +with flights to friends’ houses and to lodgings at the places of +inspection and others, especially Dover and Brighton. And guesswork is +nowhere more unprofitable than in cases where private matters of +income, taste, and other things are concerned. But it certainly would +appear, though I have no positive information on the subject, that in +the early days of State interference with education “My Lords” managed +matters with an equally sublime disregard of the comfort of their +officials and the probable efficiency of the system.<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-9" class="link">[9]</a></span> +</p> + +<p> +<a id="page049" name="page049" title="49" class="page"></a>Till I noticed the statement quoted opposite, I was quite unable to +construct any reasonable theory from such a passage as that in a +letter of December 1852<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-10" class="link">[10]</a></span> and from others which show us Mr Arnold in +Lincolnshire, in Shropshire, and in the eastern counties. Even with +the elucidation it seems a shockingly bad system. One doubts whether +it be worse for an inspector or for the school inspected by him, that +he should have no opportunity for food from breakfast to four o’clock, +when he staves off death by inviting disease in the shape of the +malefic bun; for him or for certain luckless pupil-teachers that, +after dinner, he should be “in for [them] till ten o’clock.” With this +kind of thing when on duty, and no home when off it, a man must begin +to appreciate the Biblical passages about partridges, and the wings of +a dove, and so forth, most heartily and vividly long before seven +years are out, more particularly if he be a man so much given to +domesticity as was Matthew Arnold. +</p> + +<p> +However, it was, no doubt, not so bad as it looks. They say the rack +is not, though probably no one would care to try. There were holidays; +there was a large circle of hospitable family friends, and strangers +were only too anxious to welcome (and perhaps to propitiate) Her +Majesty’s Inspector. The agreeable anomalies of <a id="page050" name="page050" title="50" class="page"></a>the British legal +system (which, let Dickens and other grumblers say what they like, +have made many good people happy and only a few miserable) allowed Mr +Arnold for many years to act (sometimes while simultaneously +inspecting) as his father-in-law’s Marshal on circuit, with varied +company and scenery, little or nothing to do, a handsome fee for doing +it, and no worse rose-leaf in the bed than heavy dinners and hot port +wine, even this being alleviated by “the perpetual haunch of venison.” +</p> + +<p> +For the rest, there are some pleasing miscellaneous touches in the +letters for these years, and there is a certain liveliness of phrase +in them which disappears in the later. It is pleasant to find Mr +Arnold on his first visit to Cambridge (where, like a good +Wordsworthian, he wanted above all things to see the statue of Newton) +saying what all of us say, “I feel that the Middle Ages, and all their +poetry and impressiveness, are in Oxford and not here.” In one letter—written +to his sister “K” (Mrs Forster) as his critical letters +usually are—we find three noteworthy criticisms on contemporaries, +all tinged with that slight want of cordial appreciation which +characterises his criticism of this kind throughout (except, perhaps, +in the case of Browning). The first is on Alexander Smith—it was the +time of the undue ascension of the <i class="title">Life-Drama</i> rocket before its +equally undue fall. “It can do me no good [an odd phrase] to be +irritated with that young man, who certainly has an extraordinary +<a id="page051" name="page051" title="51" class="page"></a>faculty, although I think he is a phenomenon of a very dubious +character.” The second, harsher but more definite, is on +<i class="title">Villette</i>. “Why is <i class="title">Villette</i> disagreeable? Because the +writer’s mind [it is worth remembering that he had met Charlotte +Brontë at Miss Martineau’s] contains nothing but hunger, rebellion, +and rage, and therefore that is all she can in fact put into her book. +No fine writing can hide this thoroughly, and it will be fatal to her +in the long-run.” The Fates were kinder: and Miss Brontë’s mind did +contain something besides these ugly things. But it <em>was</em> her +special weakness that her own thoughts and experiences were +insufficiently mingled and tempered by a wider knowledge of life and +literature. The third is on <i class="title">My Novel</i>, which he says he has +“read with great pleasure, though Bulwer’s nature is by no means a +perfect one either, which makes itself felt in his book; but his gush, +his better humour, his abundant materials, and his mellowed +constructive skill—all these are great things.” One would give many +pages of the <i class="title">Letters</i> for that naïf admission that “gush” is “a +great thing.” +</p> + +<p> +A little later (May 1853), all his spare time is being spent on a +poem, which he thinks by far the best thing he has yet done, to wit, +<i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>. And he “never felt so sure of himself or so +really and truly at ease as to criticism.” He stays in barracks at the +depot of the 17th Lancers with a brother-in-law, and we regret to find +that “Death or Glory” manners do not please him. The instance is a +cornet spinning his <a id="page052" name="page052" title="52" class="page"></a>rings on the table after dinner. “College does +civilise a boy,” he ejaculates, which is true—always providing that +it is a good college. Yet, with that almost unconscious naturalness +which is particularly noticeable in him, he is much dissatisfied with +Oxford—thinks it (as we all do) terribly fallen off since <em>his</em> +days. Perhaps the infusion of Dissenters’ sons (it is just at the time +of the first Commission in 1854) may brace its flaccid sinews, though +the middle-class, he confesses, is abominably disagreeable. He sees a +good deal of this poor middle-class in his inspecting tours, and +decides elsewhere about the same time that “of all dull, stagnant, +unedifying <i lang="fr">entourages</i>, that of middle-class Dissent is the +stupidest.” It is sad to find that he thinks women utterly unfit for +teachers and lecturers; but Girton and Lady Margaret’s may take +comfort, it is “no natural incapacity, but the fault of their +bringing-up.” With regard to his second series of <i class="title">Poems</i> (<i lang="la">v. +infra</i>) he thinks <i class="title">Balder</i> will “consolidate the peculiar sort +of reputation he got by <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>;” and a little later, +in April 1856, we have his own opinion of himself as a poet, whose +charm is “literalness and simplicity.” Mr Ruskin is also treated—with +less appreciation than one could wish. +</p> + +<p> +The second series just mentioned was issued in 1855, a second edition +of the first having been called for the year before. It contained, +like its predecessor, such of his earlier work as he chose to +republish and had not yet republished, chiefly from the +<i class="title">Empedocles</i> volume. <a id="page053" name="page053" title="53" class="page"></a>But <i class="title">Empedocles</i> itself was only +represented by some scraps, mainly grouped as <i class="title">The Harp-Player on +Etna. Faded Leaves</i>, grouped with an addition, here appear: +<i class="title">Stagirius</i> is called <i class="title">Desire</i>, and the <i class="title">Stanzas in Memory +of the Author of Obermann</i> now become <i class="title">Obermann</i> simply. Only +two absolutely new poems, a longer and a shorter, appear: the first is +<i class="title">Balder Dead</i>, the second <i class="title">Separation</i>, the added number of +<i class="title">Faded Leaves</i>. This is of no great value. <i class="title">Balder</i> is +interesting, though not extremely good. Its subject is connected with +that of Gray’s <i class="title">Descent of Odin</i>, but handled much more fully, +and in blank-verse narrative instead of ballad form. The story, like +most of those in Norse mythology, has great capabilities; but it may +be questioned whether the Greek-Miltonic chastened style which the +poet affects is well calculated to bring them out. The death of Nanna, +and the blind fratricide Hoder, are touchingly done, and Hermod’s ride +to Hela’s realm is stately. But as a whole the thing is rather dim and +tame. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Arnold’s election to the Professorship of Poetry at Oxford (May +1857) was a really notable event, not merely in his own career, but to +some, and no small, extent in the history of English literature during +the nineteenth century. The post is of no great value. I remember the +late Sir Francis Doyle, who was Commissioner of Customs as well as +Professor, saying to me once with a humorous melancholy, “Ah! Eau de +Cologne pays <em>much</em> better than Poetry!” But its duties are far +from heavy, <a id="page054" name="page054" title="54" class="page"></a>and can be adjusted pretty much as the holder pleases. And +as a position it is unique. It is, though not of extreme antiquity, +the oldest purely literary Professorship in the British Isles; and it +remained, till long after Mr Arnold’s time, the only one of the kind +in the two great English Universities. In consequence partly of the +regulation that it can be held for ten years only—nominally five, +with a practically invariable re-election for another five—there is +at least the opportunity, which, since Mr Arnold’s own time, has been +generally taken, of maintaining and refreshing the distinction of the +occupant of the chair. Before his time there had been a good many +undistinguished professors, but Warton and Keble, in their different +ways, must have adorned even a Chair of Poetry even in the University +of Oxford. Above all, the entire (or almost entire) freedom of action +left to the Professor should have, and in the case of Keble at least +had already had, the most stimulating effect on minds capable of +stimulation. For the Professor of Poetry at Oxford is neither, like +some Professors, bound to the chariot-wheels of examinations and +courses of set teaching, nor, like others, has he to feel that his +best, his most original, efforts can have no interest, and hardly any +meaning, for all but a small circle of experts. His field is +illimitable; his expatiation in it is practically untrammelled. It is +open to all; full of flowers and fruits that all can enjoy; and it +only depends on his own choice and his own literary and <a id="page055" name="page055" title="55" class="page"></a>intellectual +powers whether his prelections shall take actual rank as literature +with the very best of that other literature, with the whole of which, +by custom, as an extension from poetry, he is at liberty to deal. In +the first century of the chair the custom of delivering these +Prelections in Latin had been a slight hamper—indeed to this day it +prevents the admirable work of Keble from being known as it should be +known. But this was now removed, and Mr Arnold, whose reputation (it +could hardly be called fame as yet) was already great with the knowing +ones, had not merely Oxford but the English reading world as audience. +</p> + +<p> +And he had it at a peculiarly important time, to the importance of +which he himself, in this very position, was not the least +contributor. Although the greatest writers of the second period of the +century—Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray—had, in all cases but +the last, a long, and in the two first a very long and a wonderfully +fruitful career still before them, yet the phase to which they +belonged was as a dominant phase at its height, and as a crescent was +beginning to give place to another. Within a few years—in most cases +within a few months—of Mr Arnold’s installation, <i class="title">The Defence of +Guenevere</i> and FitzGerald’s <i class="title">Omar Khayyam</i> heralded fresh +forms of poetry which have not been superseded yet; <i class="title">The Origin of +Species</i> and <i class="title">Essays and Reviews</i> announced changed attitudes +of thought; the death of Macaulay removed the last writer who, modern +as he was in some ways, and popular, united popularity with a +distinctly eighteenth-century <a id="page056" name="page056" title="56" class="page"></a>tone and tradition; the death of Leigh +Hunt removed the last save Landor (always and in all things an +outsider) of the great Romantic generation of the first third of the +century; <i class="title">The Ordeal of Richard Feverel</i> started a new kind of +novel. +</p> + +<p> +The division which Mr Arnold, both by office and taste, was called to +lead in this newly levied army, was not far from being the most +important of all; and it was certainly that of all which required the +most thorough reformation of staff, <i lang="fr">morale</i>,<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-11" class="link">[11]</a></span> and tactics. The +English literary criticism of 1830-1860, speaking in round numbers, is +curiously and to this day rather unintelligibly bad. There is, no +doubt, no set of matters in which it is less safe to generalise than +in matters literary, and this is by no means the only instance in +which the seemingly natural anticipation that a period of great +criticism will follow a period of great creation is falsified. But it +most certainly is falsified here. The criticism of the great Romantic +period of 1798-1830 was done for it by itself, and in some cases by +its greatest practitioners, not by its immediate successors. The +philosophic as well as poetical intuition of Coleridge; the marvellous +if capricious sympathy and the more marvellous phrase of Lamb; the +massive and masculine if not always quite trustworthy or well-governed +intellect of Hazlitt, had left no likes behind. Two survivors of this +<a id="page057" name="page057" title="57" class="page"></a>great race, Leigh Hunt and De Quincey, were indeed critics, and no +inconsiderable ones; but the natural force of both had long been much +abated, and both had been not so much critics as essayists; the +tendency of Hunt to flowery sentimentality or familiar chat, and that +of De Quincey to incessant divergences of “rigmarole,” being +formidable enemies to real critical competence. The greatest prosemen—not +novelists—of the generation now closing, Carlyle and Macaulay, +were indeed both considerable critics. But the shadow of death in the +one case, the “shadow of Frederick” in the other, had cut short their +critical careers: and presumptuous as the statement may seem, it may +be questioned whether either had been a great critic—in criticism +pure and simple—of literature. +</p> + +<p> +What is almost more important is that the <em>average</em> literary +criticism of William IV.’s reign and of the first twenty years of her +present Majesty’s was exceedingly bad. At one side, of course, the +work of men like Thackeray, who were men of genius but not critics by +profession, or in some respects by equipment, escapes this verdict. At +the other were men (very few of them indeed) like Lockhart, who had +admirable critical qualifications, but had allowed certain theories +and predilections to harden and ossify within them, and who in some +cases had not outgrown the rough uncivil ways of the great +revolutionary struggle. Between these the average critic, if not quite +so ignorant of literature as a certain proportion of the immensely +larger body of <a id="page058" name="page058" title="58" class="page"></a>reviewers to-day, was certainly even more blind to its +general principles. Such critical work as that of Phillips, long a +favourite pen on the <i class="title">Times</i>, and enjoying (I do not know with +how much justice) the repute of being the person whom Thackeray’s +<i class="title">Thunder and Small Beer</i> has gibbeted for ever, excites amazement +nowadays at its bland but evidently sincere ignoring of the very +rudiments of criticism. I do not know that even in the most +interesting remains of George Brimley (who, had fate spared him, might +have grown into a great as he already was a good critic) we may not +trace something of the same hopeless amateurishness, the same +uncertainty and “wobbling” between the expression of unconnected and +unargued likes and dislikes concerning the matter of the piece, and +real critical considerations on its merits or demerits of scheme and +form. +</p> + +<p> +Not for the first time help came to us Trojans <i class="title">Graia ab urbe</i>. +Of the general merits of French literary criticism it is possible to +entertain a somewhat lower idea than that which (in consequence of the +very circumstances with which we are now dealing) it has been for many +years fashionable in England to hold. But between 1830 and 1860 the +French had a very strong critical school indeed—a school whose +scholars and masters showed the dæmonic, or at least prophetic, +inspiration of Michelet, the milder and feebler but still inspiring +enthusiasm of Quinet, the academic clearness and discipline of +Villemain and Nisard, the Lucianic wit of Mérimée, the matchless +appreciation of Gautier, <a id="page059" name="page059" title="59" class="page"></a>and, above all, the great new critical +idiosyncrasy of Sainte-Beuve. Between these men there were the widest +possible differences, not merely of personal taste and genius, but of +literary theory and practice. But where they all differed quite +infinitely from the lower class of English critics, and favourably +from all but the highest in their happiest moments, was in a singular +mixture of scholarship and appreciation. Even the most Romantic of +them usually tried to compare the subject with its likes in his own +and even, to some extent, in other literatures; even the most +Classical acknowledged, to some extent, that it was his duty to +appreciate, to understand, to grasp the case of the victim before +ordering him off to execution. +</p> + +<p> +In the practice of Sainte-Beuve himself, these two acknowledgments of +the duty of the critic embraced each other in the happiest union. The +want of enthusiasm which has been sometimes rather sillily charged +against him, comes in reality to no more than this—that he is too +busy in analysing, putting together again, comparing, setting things +in different lights and in different companies, to have much time for +dithyrambs. And the preference of second-to first-class subjects, +which has been also urged, is little more than the result of the fact +that these processes are more telling, more interesting, and more +needed in the case of the former than in the case of the latter. +Homer, Æschylus, Lucretius, Dante, Shakespeare will always make their +own way with all fit readers sooner or later: it is not so <a id="page060" name="page060" title="60" class="page"></a>with +Meleager or Macrobius or Marmontel, with William Langland or with +Thomas Love Peacock. +</p> + +<p> +But Sainte-Beuve must not carry us too far from Mr Arnold, all +important as was the influence of the one upon the other. It is enough +to say that the new Professor of Poetry (who might be less +appetisingly but more correctly called a Professor of Criticism) had +long entertained the wish to attempt, and now had the means of +effecting, a reform in English criticism, partly on Sainte-Beuve’s own +lines, partly on others which he had already made publicly known in +his famous Preface, and in some later critical writings, and which he +was for the rest of his life always unflinchingly to champion, +sometimes rather disastrously to extend. +</p> + +<p> +Still it has always been held that this chair is not <em>merely</em> a +chair of criticism; and Mr Arnold lodged a poetical diploma-piece in +the shape of <i class="title">Merope</i>. This was avowedly written as a sort of +professorial manifesto—a document to show what the only Professor of +Poetry whom England allowed herself thought, in theory and practice, +of at least dramatic poetry. It was, as was to be expected from the +author’s official position and his not widespread but well-grounded +reputation, much less neglected than his earlier poetry had been. He +even tells us that “it sells well”; but the reviewers were not +pleased. The <i class="title">Athenæum</i> review is “a choice specimen of style,” +and the <i class="title">Spectator</i> “of argumentation”; the <i class="title">Saturday +Review</i> is only “deadly prosy,” but none were exactly favourable +till G.H. Lewes in <i class="title">The Leader</i> <a id="page061" name="page061" title="61" class="page"></a>was “very gratifying.” Private +criticism was a little kinder. The present Archbishop of Canterbury +(to whom, indeed, Mr Arnold had just given “a flaming testimonial for +Rugby”) read it “with astonishment at its goodness,” a sentence which, +it may be observed, is a little double-edged. Kingsley (whom the +editor of the <i class="title">Letters</i> good-naturedly but perhaps rather +superfluously reintroduces to the British public as “author of <i class="title">The +Saints’ Tragedy</i> and other poems”) was “very handsome.” Froude, +though he begs the poet to “discontinue the line,” was not +uncomplimentary in other ways. His own conclusion, from reviews and +letters together, is pretty plainly put in two sentences, that he “saw +the book was not going to take as he wished,” and that “she [Merope] +is more calculated to inaugurate my professorship with dignity than to +move deeply the present race of <em>humans</em>.” Let us see what “she” +is actually like. +</p> + +<p> +It is rather curious that the story of Merope should have been so +tempting as, to mention nothing else, Maffei’s attempt in Italian, +Voltaire’s in French, and this of Mr Arnold’s in English, show it to +have been to modern admirers and would-be practitioners of the +Classical drama: and the curiosity is of a tell-tale kind. For the +fact is that the <i lang="fr">donnée</i> is very much more of the Romantic than +of the Classical description, and offers much greater conveniences to +the Romantic than to the Classical practitioner. With minor +variations, the story as generally dramatised is this. Merope, the +widowed <a id="page062" name="page062" title="62" class="page"></a>queen of the murdered Heraclid Cresphontes, has saved her +youngest son from the murderer and usurper, Polyphontes, and sent him +out of the country. When he has grown up, and has secretly returned to +Messenia to take vengeance, Polyphontes is pressing Merope to let +bygones be bygones and marry him, so as to reconcile the jarring +parties in the State. Æpytus, the son, to facilitate his reception, +represents himself as a messenger charged to bring the news of his own +death; and Merope, hearing this and believing the messenger to be also +the assassin, obtains access to the chamber where he is resting after +his journey, and is about to murder her own sleeping son when he is +saved by the inevitable <i class="term">anagnorisis</i>. The party of Cresphontes +is then secretly roused. Æpytus, at the sacrifice which the tyrant +holds in honour of the news of his rival’s death, snatches the +sacrificial axe and kills Polyphontes himself, and all ends well. +</p> + +<p> +There is, of course, a strong dramatic moment here; but I cannot think +the plot by any means an ideal one for classical tragedy. At any rate +the Aristotelian conditions—the real ones, not the fanciful +distortions of sixteenth-seventeenth century criticism—are very ill +satisfied. There is bloodshed, but there is no tragic bloodshed, as +there would have been had Merope actually killed her son. The +arresting and triumphant “grip” of the tragic misfortunes of Oedipus +and Orestes, the combination of the course of fate and the <span title="hamartia" lang="el" class="greek">ἁμαρτία</span> +of the individual, is totally absent. The wooing of Merope +<a id="page063" name="page063" title="63" class="page"></a>by Polyphontes is not so much preposterous as insignificant, though +Voltaire, by a touch of modernism, has rescued it or half-rescued it +from this most terrible of limbos. The right triumphs, no doubt; but +who cares whether it does or not? And Mr Arnold, with the heroic +obstinacy of the doctrinaire, has done nothing to help the effect of a +scheme in itself sufficiently uninspiring to the modern reader. When +he was at work upon the piece he had “thought and hoped” that it would +have what Buddha called “the character of Fixity, that true sign of +the law.” A not unfriendly critic might have pointed out, with gloomy +forebodings, that a sign of law is not necessarily a sign of poetry, +and that, as a prophet of his own had laid it down, poetry should +“transport” not “fix.” At any rate, it is clear to any one who reads +the book that the author was in a mood of deliberate provocation and +exaggeration—not a favourable mood for art. The quiet grace of +Sophocles is perhaps impossible to reproduce in English, but Mr +Arnold’s verse is more than quiet, it is positively tame. The dreary +<i lang="fr">tirades</i> of Polyphontes and Merope, and their snip-snap +<i lang="el">stichomythia</i>, read equally ill in English. Mr Swinburne, who +has succeeded where Mr Arnold failed, saw by a true intuition that, to +equal the effect of the Greek chorus, full English lyric with rhyme +and musical sweep was required. Mr Arnold himself, as might have been +expected from his previous experiments in unrhymed Pindarics, has +given us strophes and antistrophes most punctiliously equivalent in +syllables; <a id="page064" name="page064" title="64" class="page"></a>but sometimes with hardly any, and never with very much, +vesture of poetry about them. It is absolutely preposterous to suppose +that the effect on a Greek ear of a strophe even of Sophocles or +Euripides, let alone the great Agamemnonian choruses, was anything +like the effect on an English ear of such wooden stuff as this:— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Three brothers roved the field,<br /> + And to two did Destiny<br /> + Give the thrones that they conquer’d,<br /> + But the third, what delays him<br /> + From his unattained crown?” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +But Mr Arnold would say “This is your unchaste modern love for +passages and patches. Tell me how I managed this worthy action?” To +which the only answer can be, “Sir, the action is rather +uninteresting. Save at one moment you have not raised the interest +anywhere, and you have certainly not made the most of it there.” +</p> + +<p> +The fact is, that very few even of thorough-going Arnoldians have had, +or, except merely as “fighting a prize,” could have had, much to say +for <i class="title">Merope</i>. The author pleads that he only meant “to give +people a specimen of the world created by the Greek imagination.” In +the first place, one really cannot help (with the opening speech of +the <i class="title">Prometheus</i>, and the close of the <i class="title">Eumenides</i>, and the +whole of the <i class="title">Agamemnon</i> in one’s mind) saying that this is +rather hard on the Greeks. And in the second place, what a curious way +of setting about the object, when luckily specimens of the actual +<a id="page065" name="page065" title="65" class="page"></a>“world” so “created,” not mere <i lang="fr">pastiches</i> and plaster models of +them, are still to be had, and of the very best! But the fact is, +thirdly, that Mr Arnold, as all men so often do, and as he not very +seldom did, was clearly trying not so much to extol one thing as to +depreciate another. Probably in his heart of hearts (which is +generally a much wiser heart than that according to which the mouth +speaks and the pen writes) he knew his failure. At any rate, he never +attempted anything of the kind again, and Merope, that queen of +plaster, remains alone in his gallery, with, as we see in other +galleries, merely some <i lang="la">disjecta membra</i>—“Fragment of an +<i class="title">Antigone</i>,” “Fragment of a <i class="title">Dejaneira</i>,” grouped at her +feet. In the definitive edition indeed, she is not with these but with +<i class="title">Empedocles on Etna</i>, a rather unlucky contrast. For +<i class="title">Empedocles</i>, if very much less deliberately Greek than +<i class="title">Merope</i>, is very much better poetry, and it is almost impossible +that the comparison of the two should not suggest to the reader that +the attempt to be Greek is exactly and precisely the cause of the +failure to be poetical. Mr Arnold had forgotten his master’s words +about the <i lang="el">oikeia hedone</i>. +The pleasure of Greek art is one thing—the pleasure of English poetry +another. +</p> + +<p> +His inaugural lecture, “On the Modern Element in Literature,” was +printed many years afterwards in <i class="title">Macmillan’s Magazine</i> for +February 1869; and this long hesitation seems to have been followed by +an even longer repentance, for the piece was never included <a id="page066" name="page066" title="66" class="page"></a>in any one +of his volumes of essays. But the ten years of his professorship are, +according to the wise parsimony of the chair, amply represented by the +two famous little books—<i class="title">On Translating Homer</i>, which, with its +supplementary “Last Words,” appeared in 1861-62, and <i class="title">On the Study +of Celtic Literature</i>, which appeared at the termination of his +tenure in 1867. It may be questioned whether he ever did anything of +more influence than these books, this being due partly to the fashion +of their publication—which, in the latter case at least, applied the +triple shock of lecture at the greatest of English literary centres, +of magazine article, and of book—and partly to the fact that they +were about subjects in which a real or a factitious, a direct or an +indirect, interest was taken by almost every one. Every educated +person knew and cared something (or at least would not have liked to +be supposed not to care and know something) about Homer; very few +educated persons knew anything about Celtic literature. But in these +later lectures he put in a more popular and provocative form than that +of his <i class="title">French Eton</i> (see next chapter) that mixture of literary, +political, social, and miscellaneous critique of his countrymen for +which he was thenceforward best known; and which, if it brought down +some hard knocks from his adversaries, and perhaps was not altogether +a healthy mixture for himself, could at least not be charged by any +reasonable person with lack of piquancy and actuality. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="page067" name="page067" title="67" class="page"></a>Both books are, and, despite some drawbacks of personal and ephemeral +allusion, always will be, interesting; and both had, perhaps even more +than the <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i> themselves, a stimulating effect +upon English men of letters which can hardly be overvalued. It may +indeed be said without paradox that they owe not a little of their +value to their faults; but they owe a great deal more to their merits. +</p> + +<p> +The faults are apparent enough even in the first series, which falls +to be noticed in this chapter; yet it is really difficult to say when +a more important book of English criticism had appeared. Dryden’s +<i class="title">Essay of Dramatic Poesy</i>, Johnson’s <i class="title">Lives</i> at their +frequent best, Coleridge’s <i class="title">Biographia Literaria</i>, are greater +things; but hardly the best of them was in its day more “important for +<em>us</em>.” To read even the best of that immediately preceding +criticism of which something has been said above—nay, even to recur +to Coleridge and Hazlitt and Lamb—and then to take up <i class="title">On +Translating Homer</i>, is to pass to a critic with a far fuller +equipment, with a new method, with a style of his own, and with an +almost entirely novel conception of the whole art of criticism. For +the first time (even Coleridge with much wider reading had not +co-ordinated it from this point of view) we find the two great ancient +and the three or four great modern literatures of Europe taken +synoptically, used to illustrate and explain each other, to point out +each other’s defects and throw up each other’s merits. <a id="page068" name="page068" title="68" class="page"></a>Almost for the +first time, too, we have ancient literature treated more or less like +modern—neither from the merely philological point of view, nor with +reference to the stock platitudes and traditions about it. The critic +is not afraid of doctrines and general principles—in fact, he is +rather too fond of them—but his object is anything rather than mere +arid deduction and codification. He has the aesthetic sense as +thoroughly as Hazlitt and Lamb, but without the wilfulness of either, +or at least with a different kind of wilfulness from that of either. +Finally, in one of the numerous ways in which he shows that his +subject is alive to him, he mixes it up with the queerest +personalities and sudden zigzags, with all manner of digressions and +side-flings. And last of all, he has that new style of which we +spoke—a style by no means devoid of affectation and even trick, +threatening, to experienced eyes, the disease of mannerism, but +attractive in its very provocations, almost wholly original, and +calculated, at least while it retains its freshness, to drive what is +said home into the reader’s mind and to stick it there. +</p> + +<p> +The faults, we said, both critical and non-critical, are certainly not +lacking; and if they were not partly excused by the author’s avowedly +militant position, might seem sometimes rather grave. Whatever may +have been the want of taste, and even the want of sense, in the +translation of F.W. Newman, it is almost sufficient to say that they +were neither greater nor <a id="page069" name="page069" title="69" class="page"></a>less than might have been expected from a +person who, if the most scholarly of eccentrics, was also the most +eccentric even of English scholars. It is difficult not to think that +Mr Arnold makes too much of them and refers too frequently to them. +Such “iteration” is literally “damnable”: it must be condemned as +unfair, out of place, out of taste, and even not distantly approaching +that lack of urbanity with which Mr Arnold was never tired of +reproaching his countrymen. Another translator, Mr Wright, was indeed +needlessly sensitive to Mr Arnold’s strictures; but these strictures +themselves were needlessly severe. It is all very well for a reviewer, +especially if he be young and anonymous, to tell a living writer that +his book has “no reason for existing”; but chairs of literature are +not maintained by universities that their occupants may, in relation +to living persons, exercise the functions of young anonymous +reviewers. It may indeed be doubted whether these occupants should, +except in the most guarded way, touch living persons at all. +</p> + +<p> +Critically too, as well as from the point of view of manners, the +<i class="title">Lectures on Translating Homer</i> are open to not a few criticisms. +In the first place, the assumptions are enormous, and, in some cases +at least, demonstrably baseless. One of Mr Arnold’s strongest points, +for instance, not merely against Mr Newman but against Homeric +translators generally, is concerned with the renderings of the Homeric +compound adjectives, <a id="page070" name="page070" title="70" class="page"></a>especially the stock ones—<i lang="el">koruthaiolos</i>, +<i lang="el">merops</i>, and the rest. The originals, he is never weary of +repeating, did not strike a Greek and do not strike a Greek scholar as +out of the way; the English equivalents do so strike an English +reader. Now as to the Greeks themselves, we know nothing: they have +left us no positive information on the subject. But if (which is no +doubt at least partly true) <i lang="el">koruthaiolos</i> and +<i lang="el">dolichoskion</i> do not strike us, who have been familiar with +Greek almost as long as we can remember, as out of the way, is that an +argument? Most of us, I suppose, at about nine or ten years old, some +no doubt a little or a good deal earlier, learnt these words as part +of the ordinary Greek that was presented to us, just as much as +<i lang="el">kai</i> and <i lang="el">ara</i>; but if we had learnt Greek as we learn +English, beginning with quite ordinary words, would it be so? I think +not; nor would it be so if people began Greek at a later and more +critical stage of their education. +</p> + +<p> +It is also true that the book is full of that exceedingly arbitrary +and unproved assertion, of that rather fanciful terminology, of those +sometimes questionable æsthetic <i lang="la">obiter dicta</i>, of which, from +first to last, Mr Arnold was so prolific. When he talks about the +mysterious “grand style,” and tells us that Milton can never be +affected, we murmur, “<i lang="la">De gustibus!</i>” and add mentally, “Though +Milton is the greatest of affected writers, Milton is, after +<i class="title">Comus</i> at least, <a id="page071" name="page071" title="71" class="page"></a>never anything else!” When he tells us again +that at that moment (1861) “English literature as a living +intellectual instrument ranks after the literatures of France and +Germany,” we remember that at the time France possessed perhaps only +one writer, Victor Hugo, and Germany absolutely none, of the calibre +of a dozen Englishmen—Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray, +Dickens, and not a few others, from Landor to Mr Ruskin; that Germany, +further, had scarcely one, though France had more than one or two, +great writers of the second class: and we say, “Either your ‘living +intellectual instrument’ is a juggle of words, or you really are +neglecting fact.” Many—very many—similar retorts are possible; and +the most hopeless variance of all must come when we arrive at Mr +Arnold’s championship of that ungainly and sterile mule the English +hexameter, and when we review the specimens of the animal that he +turns out from his own stables for our inspection. +</p> + +<p> +But it matters not. For all this, and very much more than all this, +which may be passed over as unnecessary or improper, nothing like the +book had, for positive critical quality, and still more for germinal +influence, been seen by its generation, and nothing of the same +quality and influence has been seen for more than a technical +generation since. It would of course be uncritical in the last degree +to take the change in English criticism which followed as wholly and +directly Mr Arnold’s work. He was not even <a id="page072" name="page072" title="72" class="page"></a>the voice crying in the +wilderness: only one of many voices in a land ready at least to be +eared and pathed. But he was the earliest of such voices, the +clearest, most original, most potent; and a great deal of what +followed was directly due to him. +</p> + +<p> +The non-literary events of his life during this period were +sufficiently varied if not very momentous. We have mentioned the +domiciling in Chester Square, which took place in February 1858, +perhaps on the strength of the additional income from Oxford. In the +late summer of that year he went alone to Switzerland, and next +spring, shortly after the New Year, received, to his very great joy, a +roving commission to France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Piedmont, to +report on elementary education. “Foreign life,” he says, with that +perfect naturalness which makes the charm of his letters, “is still to +me perfectly delightful and liberating in the last degree.” And he was +duly “presented” at home, in order that he might be presentable +abroad. But the first days of the actual sojourn (as we have them +recorded in a letter to his mother of April 14) were saddened by that +death of his brother William, which he has enshrined in verse. +</p> + +<p> +He had, however, plenty to distract him. France was all astir with the +Austrian war, and it is impossible to read his expressions of +half-awed admiration of French military and other greatness without +rather mischievous amusement. He visited the Morbihan, which struck +him as it must strike every one. Here <a id="page073" name="page073" title="73" class="page"></a>he is pathetic over a promising +but not performing dinner at Auray—“soup, Carnac oysters, shrimps, +<i lang="fr">fricandeau</i> of veal, breast of veal, and asparagus;” but +“everything so detestable” that his dinner was bread and cheese. He +must have been unlucky: the little Breton inns, at any rate a few +years later than this, used, it is true, to be dirty to an extent +appalling to an Englishman; but their provender was usually far from +contemptible. There is more sense of Breton scenery in another letter +a little later. Both here and, presently, in Gascony he notes truly +enough “the incredible degree to which the Revolution has cleared the +feudal ages out of the minds of the country people”; but if he +reflected on the bad national effect of this breach with the past, he +does not say so. By June 12 he is in Holland, and does not like it—weather, +language, &c., all English in the worst sense, apparently +without the Norman and Latin element which just saves us. And though +he was a very short time in the Netherlands, he has to relieve his +feelings by more abuse of them when he gets back to Paris—in fact, he +speaks of Holland exactly as the typical Frenchman speaks of England, +and is accordingly very funny to read. The two things that make +Holland most interesting, history and art, were exactly those that +appealed to Mr Arnold least. Then after a refreshing bath of Paris, he +goes to Strasbourg, and Time—Time the Humourist as well as the +Avenger and Consoler—makes him commit himself dreadfully. <a id="page074" name="page074" title="74" class="page"></a>He “thinks +there cannot be a moment’s doubt” that the French will beat the +Prussians even far more completely and rapidly than they are beating +the Austrians. Lord Cowley, it seems, “entirely shared” his conviction +that “the French will always beat any number of Germans who come into +the field against them, and never be beaten by any one but the +English.” Let us hope that Jove, when he whistled half this prophecy +down the wind, affirmed the rest of it! Switzerland comes next; and he +is beginning to want very much to be back in England, partly “for the +children, but partly also from affection for that foolish old +country”—which paternal and patriotic desire was granted about the +end of the month, though only for a short time, during which he wrote +a pamphlet on the Italian question. Then “M. le Professeur Docteur +Arnold, Directeur Général de toutes les Écoles de la Grande Bretagne,” +returned to France for a time, saw Mérimée and George Sand and Renan, +as well as a good deal of Sainte-Beuve, and was back again for good in +the foolish old country at the end of the month. +</p> + +<p> +In the early winter of 1859-60 we find him a volunteer, commenting not +too happily on “the hideous English toadyism which invests lords and +great people with commands,” a remark which seems to clench the +inference that he had not appreciated the effect of the Revolution +upon France. For nearly three parts of 1860 we have not a single +letter, except one in January <a id="page075" name="page075" title="75" class="page"></a>pleasantly referring to his youngest +child “in black velvet and red-and-white tartan, looking such a duck +that it was hard to take one’s eyes off him.”<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-12" class="link">[12]</a></span> This letter, by the +way, ends with an odd admission from the author of the remark quoted +just now. He says of the Americans, “It seems as if few stocks could +be trusted to grow up properly without having a priesthood and an +aristocracy to act as their schoolmasters at some time or other of +their national existence.” This is a confession. The gap, however, is +partly atoned for by a very pleasant batch in September from Viel Salm +in the Ardennes, where the whole family spent a short time, and where +the Director-General of all the schools in Great Britain had splendid +fishing, the hapless Ardennes trout being only accustomed to nets. +</p> + +<p> +Then the interest returns to literature, and the lectures on +translating Homer, and Tennyson’s “deficiency in intellectual power,” +and Mr Arnold’s own interest in the Middle Ages, which may surprise +some folk. It seems that he has “a strong sense of the irrationality +of that period” and of “the utter folly of those who take it seriously +and play at restoring it.” Still it has “poetically the greatest charm +and refreshment for me.” One may perhaps be permitted to doubt whether +you can get much real poetical refreshment out of a thing which is +irrational <a id="page076" name="page076" title="76" class="page"></a>and which you don’t take seriously: the practice seems to +be not unlike that mediæval one of keeping fools for your delectation. +Nor can the observations on Tennyson be said to be quite just or quite +pleasant. But every age and every individual is unjust to his or its +immediate predecessor—a saying dangerous and double-edged, but true +for all that. Then he “entangles himself in the study of accents”—it +would be difficult to find any adventurer who has <em>not</em> entangled +himself in that study—and groans over “a frightful parcel of grammar +papers,” which he only just “manages in time,” apparently on the very +unwholesome principle (though this was not the same batch) of doing +twenty before going to bed when he comes in from a dinner-party at +eleven o’clock. Colds, Brighton, praise from Sainte-Beuve, critical +attacks in the English papers, and (not quite unprovoked) from F.W. +Newman, reflections on the Age of Wisdom (forty), and a meeting with +Thackeray, the Laureate of that age, diversify the history agreeably. +Then we come to a dead, and now rather more than dull, controversy +over the Revised Code, of which we need not say much. Official +etiquette on such matters, especially in England, is very loose, +though he himself seems to have at one time thought it distantly +possible, though not likely, that he would be ejected for the part he +took. And his first five years’ tenure of the Oxford Chair ends with +the delivery of the Creweian oration, as to the composition of which +he consoles himself (having heard both from the Vice-Chancellor and +others that there was to be “a <a id="page077" name="page077" title="77" class="page"></a>great row”) by reflecting that “it +doesn’t much matter what he writes, as he shall not be heard.” I do +not know whether the prediction was justified; but if so, the same +fate had, according to tradition, befallen his Newdigate some twenty +years earlier. In neither case can the “row” have had any personal +reference. Though his lectures were never largely attended by +undergraduates, he was always popular in Oxford. +</p> + + + + +<h2><a id="page078" name="page078" title="78" class="page"></a><a id="iii" name="iii">Chapter III.</a></h2> + +<h3><i class="title">A French Eton</i>—<i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>—<i class="title">Celtic Literature</i>—<i class="title">New +Poems</i>—Life from 1862 to 1867.</h3> + + +<p> +The period of Mr Arnold’s second tenure of the Poetry Chair, from 1862 +to 1867, was much more fertile in remarkable books than that of his +first. It was during this time that he established himself at once as +the leader of English critics by his <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i> (some +of which had first taken form as Oxford Lectures) and that he made his +last appearance with a considerable collection of <i class="title">New Poems</i>. It +was during this, or immediately after its expiration, that he issued +his second collected book of lectures on <i class="title">The Study of Celtic +Literature</i>; and it was then that he put in more popular, though +still in not extremely popular, forms the results of his +investigations into Continental education. It was during this time +also that his thoughts took the somewhat unfortunate twist towards the +mission of reforming his country, not merely in matters literary, +where he was excellently qualified for the apostolate, but in the much +more <a id="page079" name="page079" title="79" class="page"></a>dubiously warranted function of political, “sociological,” and +above all, ecclesiastical or anti-ecclesiastical gospeller. With all +these things we must now deal. +</p> + +<p> +No one of Mr Arnold’s books is more important, or more useful in +studying the evolution of his thought and style, than <i class="title">A French +Eton</i> (1864). Although he was advancing in middle-life when it was +written, and had evidently, as the phrase goes, “made up his bundle of +prejudices,” he had not written, or at least published, very much +prose; his mannerisms had not hardened. And above all, he was but just +catching the public ear, and so was not tempted to assume the part of +Chesterfield-Socrates, which he played later, to the diversion of +some, to the real improvement of many, but a little to his own +disaster. He was very thoroughly acquainted with the facts of his +subject, which was not always the case later; and though his +assumptions—the insensibility of aristocracies to ideas, the +superiority of the French to the English in this respect, the failure +of the Anglican Church, and so forth—are already as questionable as +they are confident, he puts them with a certain modesty, a certain +<span title="epieikeia" class="greek" lang="el">ἐπιείκεια</span>, which was perhaps not always so obvious when he +came to preach that quality itself later. About the gist of the book +it is not necessary to say very much. He practically admits the +obvious and unanswerable objection that his <i class="title">French Eton</i>, +whether we look for it at Toulouse or look for it at Sorèze, is very +French, but not at all Eton. He does not really attempt to meet the +more dangerous though <a id="page080" name="page080" title="80" class="page"></a>less epigrammatic demurrer, “Do you <em>want</em> +schools to turn out products of this sort?” It was only indirectly his +fault, but it was a more or less direct consequence of his arguments, +that a process of making ducks and drakes of English grammar-school +endowments began, and was (chiefly in the “seventies”) carried on, +with results, the mischievousness of which apparently has been known +and noted only by experts, and which they have chiefly kept to +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +All this is already ancient history, and history not ancient enough to +be venerable. But the book as a book, and also as a document in the +case, has, and always will have, interest. “The cries and catchwords” +which Mr Arnold denounces, as men so often do denounce their own most +besetting temptations, have not yet quite mastered him; but they have +made a lodgment. The revolt—in itself quite justifiable, and even +admirable—from the complacent acceptance of English middle-class +thought, English post-Reform-Bill politics, English mid-century taste +and ethics and philosophy,—from everything, in short, of which +Macaulay was the equally accepted and representative eulogist and +exponent, is conspicuous. It is from foreign and almost hostile +sources that we must expect help. The State is to resume, or to +initiate, its guidance of a very large part, if not of the whole, of +the matters which popular thought, Liberal and Conservative alike, +then assigned to individual action or private combination. We have not +yet Barbarians, Philistines, and Populace <a id="page081" name="page081" title="81" class="page"></a>labelled with their tickets +and furnished with their descriptions; but the three classes are +already sharply separated in Mr Arnold’s mind, and we can see that +only in the Philistine who burns Dagon, and accepts circumcision and +culture fully, is there to be any salvation. The anti-clerical and +anti-theological animus is already strong; the attitude <i lang="la">dantis jura +Catonis</i> is arranged; the <i lang="la">jura</i> themselves, if not actually +graven and tabulated, can be seen coming with very little difficulty. +Above all, the singing-robes are pretty clearly laid aside; the +Scholar-Gipsy exercises no further spell; we have turned to prose and +(as we can best manage it) sense. +</p> + +<p> +But <i class="title">A French Eton</i> is perhaps most interesting for its style. In +this respect it marks a stage, and a distinct one, between the +<i class="title">Preface</i> of 1853 and the later and better known works. More of a +<i lang="la">concio ad vulgus</i> than the former, it shows a pretty obvious +endeavour to soften and popularise, without unduly vulgarising, the +academic tone of the earlier work. And it does not yet display those +“mincing graces” which were sometimes attributed (according to a very +friendly and most competent critic, “harshly, but justly”) to the +later. The mannerisms, indeed, like the dogmatisms, are pretty clearly +imminent. Slightly exotic vocabulary—“habitude” “repartition,” for +“habit,” “distribution”—makes its appearance. That abhorrence of the +conjunction, which made Mr Arnold later give us rows of adjectives and +substantives, with never an “and” to string them together, is here. +But no one of these <a id="page082" name="page082" title="82" class="page"></a>tricks, nor any other, is present in excess: there +is nothing that can justly be called falsetto; and in especial, though +some names of merely ephemeral interest are in evidence—Baines, +Roebuck, Miall, &c., Mr Arnold’s well-known substitutes for Cleon and +Cinesias—there is nothing like the torrent of personal allusion in +<i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i>. “Bottles” and his company are not yet +with us; the dose of <i lang="fr">persiflage</i> is rigorously kept down; the +author has not reached the stage when he seemed to hold sincerely the +principle so wickedly put by Mr Lewis Carroll, that +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “What I tell you three times is true,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and that the truth could be made truest by making the three thirty. +</p> + +<p> +The result is that he never wrote better. A little of the dignity of +his earlier manner—when he simply followed that admirable older +Oxford style, of which Newman was the greatest master and the last—is +gone, but it has taken some stiffness with it. Some—indeed a good +deal—of the piquancy of the later is not yet apparent; but its +absence implies, and is more than compensated by, the concomitant +absence of those airs and flings, those interludes as of an academic +jester, in cap and gown and liripipe instead of motley, which have +been charged, not quite unjustly, on the Arnold that we know best. +There is hardly in English a better example of the blending and +conciliation of the two modes of argumentative writing referred <a id="page083" name="page083" title="83" class="page"></a>to in +Bishop Kurd’s acute observation, that if your first object is to +convince, you cannot use a style too soft and insinuating; if you want +to confute, the rougher and more unsparing the better. And the +description and characterisation are quite excellent. +</p> + +<p> +Between <i class="title">A French Eton</i> and the second collection of Oxford +Lectures came, in 1865, the famous <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, the +first full and varied, and perhaps always the best, expression and +illustration of the author’s critical attitude, the detailed manifesto +and exemplar of the new critical method, and so one of the +epoch-making books of the later nineteenth century in English. It +consisted, in the first edition, of a <i class="title">Preface</i> (afterwards +somewhat altered and toned down) and of nine essays (afterwards to be +made ten by the addition of <i class="title">A Persian Passion-Play</i>). The two +first of these were general, on <i class="title">The Function of Criticism at the +Present Time</i> and <i class="title">The Literary Influence of Academies</i>, while +the other seven dealt respectively with the two Guérins, Heine, +<i class="title">Pagan and Mediæval Religious Sentiment</i>, Joubert, Spinoza, and +Marcus Aurelius. I am afraid it must be taken as only too strong a +confirmation of Mr Arnold’s own belief as to the indifference of the +English people to criticism that no second edition of this book was +called for till four years were past, no third for ten, and no fourth +for nearly twenty. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, to any one whom the gods have made in the very slightest degree +critical, it is one of the most <a id="page084" name="page084" title="84" class="page"></a>fascinating (if sometimes also one of +the most provoking) of books; and the fascination and provocation +should surely have been felt even by others. As always with the +author, there is nothing easier than to pick holes in it: in fact, on +his own principles, one is simply bound to pick holes. He evidently +enjoyed himself very much in the <i class="title">Preface:</i> but it may be doubted +whether the severe Goddess of Taste can have altogether smiled on his +enjoyment. He is superciliously bland to the unlucky and no doubt +rather unwise Mr Wright (<i lang="la">v. supra</i>): he tells the +<i class="title">Guardian</i> in a periphrasis that it is dull, and “Presbyter +Anglicanus” that he is born of Hyrcanian tigers, and the editor of the +<i class="title">Saturday Review</i> that he is a late and embarrassed convert to +the Philistines. He introduces not merely Mr Spurgeon, a Philistine of +some substance and memory, but hapless forgotten shadows like “Mr +Clay,” “Mr Diffanger,” “Inspector Tanner,” “Professor Pepper” to the +contempt of the world. And then, when we are beginning to find all +this laughter rather “thorn-crackling” and a little forced, the thing +ends with the famous and magnificent <i lang="la">epiphonema</i> (as they would +have said in the old days) to Oxford, which must for ever conciliate +all sons of hers and all gracious outsiders to its author, just as it +turns generation after generation of her enemies sick with an agonised +grin. +</p> + +<p> +So, again, one may marvel, and almost grow angry, at the whim which +made Mr Arnold waste two whole <a id="page085" name="page085" title="85" class="page"></a>essays on an amiable and interesting +person like Eugénie de Guérin and a mere nobody like her brother. They +are very pretty essays in themselves; but then (as Mr Arnold has +taught us), “all depends on the subject,” and the subjects here are so +exceedingly unimportant! Besides, as he himself almost openly +confessed, and as everybody admits now, he really did not understand +French poetry at all. When we come to “Keats and Guérin,” there is +nothing for it but to take refuge in Byron’s +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “<em>Such</em> names coupled!” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and pass with averted face. Seventy-two mortal pages of Matthew +Arnold’s, at his very best time, wasted on a brother and sister who +happened to be taken up by Sainte-Beuve! +</p> + +<p> +But the rest of the book is entirely free from liability to any such +criticism as this. To some criticism—even to a good deal—it is +beyond doubt exposed. The first and most famous paper—the general +manifesto, as the earlier <i class="title">Preface</i> to the <i class="title">Poems</i> is the +special one, of its author’s literary creed—on <i class="title">The Function of +Criticism at the Present Time</i> must indeed underlie much the same +objections as those that have been made to the introduction. Here is +the celebrated passage about “Wragg is in custody,” the text of which, +though no doubt painful in subject and inurbane in phraseology, is +really a rather slender basis on which to draw up an indictment +against a nation. Here is the astounding—<a id="page086" name="page086" title="86" class="page"></a>the, if serious, almost +preternatural—statement that “not very much of current English +literature comes into this best that is known and thought in the +world. Not very much I fear: certainly less than of the current +literature of France and Germany.” And this was 1865, when the Germans +had had no great poet but Heine for a generation, nor any great poets +but Goethe and Heine for some five hundred years, no great +prose-writer but Heine (unless you call Goethe one), and were not +going to have any! It was 1865, when all the great French writers, +themselves of but some thirty years’ standing, were dying off, not to +be succeeded! 1865, when for seventy years England had not lacked, and +for nearly thirty more was not to lack, poets and prose-writers of the +first order by the dozen and almost the score! Here, too, is the +marvellous companion-statement that in the England of the first +quarter of the century was “no national glow of life.” It was the +chill of death, I suppose, which made the nation fasten on the throat +of the world and choke it into submission during a twenty years’ +struggle. +</p> + +<p> +But these things are only Mr Arnold’s way. I have never been able to +satisfy myself whether they were deliberate paradoxes, or sincere and +rather pathetic paralogisms. For instance, did he really think that +the <i class="title">Revue des Deux Mondes</i>, an organ of “dukes, dunces, and +<i lang="fr">dévotes</i>,” as it used to be called even in those days by the +wicked knowing ones, a nursing mother of Academies certainly, and a +most respectable <a id="page087" name="page087" title="87" class="page"></a>periodical in all ways—that this good <i class="title">Revue</i> +actually “had for its main function to understand and utter the best +that is known and thought in the world,” absolutely existed as an +organ for “the free play of mind”? I should be disposed to think that +the truer explanation of such things is that they were neither quite +paradoxes nor quite paralogisms; but the offspring of an innocent +willingness to believe what he wished, and of an almost equally +innocent desire to provoke the adversary. Unless (as unluckily they +sometimes are) they be taken at the foot of the letter, they can do no +harm, and their very piquancy helps the rest to do a great deal of +good. +</p> + +<p> +For there can be no doubt that in the main contention of his +manifesto, as of his book, Mr Arnold was absolutely right. It was true +that England, save for spasmodic and very partial appearances of it in +a few of her great men of letters—Ben Jonson, Dryden, Addison, +Johnson—had been wonderfully deficient in criticism up to the end of +the eighteenth century; and that though in the early nineteenth she +had produced one great philosophical critic, another even greater on +the purely literary side, and a third of unique appreciative sympathy, +in Coleridge, Hazlitt, and Lamb, she had not followed these up, and +had, even in them, shown certain critical limitations. It was true +that though the Germans had little and the French nothing to teach us +in range, both had much to teach us in thoroughness, method, +<em>style</em> of criticism. And it was truest of all <a id="page088" name="page088" title="88" class="page"></a>(though Mr Arnold, +who did not like the historic estimate, would have admitted this with +a certain grudge) that the time imperatively demanded a thorough +“stock-taking” of our own literature in the light and with the help of +others. +</p> + +<p> +Let <i lang="la">palma</i>—let the <i lang="la">maxima palma</i>—of criticism be given +to him in that he first fought for the creed of this literary +orthodoxy, and first exemplified (with whatever admixture of +will-worship of his own, with whatever quaint rites and ceremonies) +the carrying out of the cult. It is possible that his direct influence +may have been exaggerated; one of the most necessary, though not of +the most grateful, businesses of the literary historian is to point +out that with rare exceptions, and those almost wholly on the poetic +side, great men of letters rather show in a general, early, and +original fashion a common tendency than definitely lead an otherwise +sluggish multitude to the promised land. But no investigation has +deprived, or is at all likely to deprive, the <i class="title">Essays in +Criticism</i> of their place as an epoch-making book, as the manual of +a new and often independent, but, on the whole, like-minded, critical +movement in England. +</p> + +<p> +Nor can the blow of the first essay be said to be ill followed up in +the second, the almost equally famous (perhaps the <em>more</em> famous) +<i class="title">Influence of Academies</i>. Of course here also, here as always, +you may make reservations. It is a very strong argument, an argument +stronger than any of Mr Arnold’s, that the institutions <a id="page089" name="page089" title="89" class="page"></a>of a nation, +if they are to last, if they are to do any good, must be in accordance +with the spirit of the nation; that if the French Academy has been +beneficial, it is because the French spirit is academic; and that if +(as we may fear, or hope, or believe, according to our different +principles) the English spirit is unacademic, an Academy would +probably be impotent and perhaps ridiculous in England. But we can +allow for this; and when we have allowed for it, once more Mr Arnold’s +warnings are warnings on the right side, true, urgent, beneficial. +There are still the minor difficulties. Even at the time, much less as +was known of France in England then than now, there were those who +opened their eyes first and then rubbed them at the assertion that +“openness of mind and flexibility of intelligence” were the +characteristics of the French people. But once more also, no matter! +The central drift is right, and the central drift carries many +excellent things with it, and may be allowed to wash away the less +excellent. Mr Arnold is right on the average qualities of French +prose; whether he is right about the “provinciality” of Jeremy Taylor +as compared to Bossuet or not, he is right about “critical freaks,” +though, by the way—but it is perhaps unnecessary to finish that +sentence. He is right about the style of Mr Palgrave and right about +the style of Mr Kinglake; and I do not know that I feel more +especially bound to pronounce him wrong about the ideas of Lord +Macaulay. But had he been as wrong in all these <a id="page090" name="page090" title="90" class="page"></a>things as he was +right, the central drift would still be inestimable—the drift of +censure and contrast applied to English eccentricity, the argument +that this eccentricity, if it is not very good, is but too likely to +be very bad. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it is perhaps in the illustrative essays that the author shows at +his best. Even in the Guérin pieces, annoyance at the waste of +first-rate power on tenth-rate people need not wholly blind us to the +grace of the exposition and to the charming eulogy of “distinction” at +the end. That, if Mr Arnold had known a little more about that French +Romantic School which he despised, he would have hardly assigned this +distinction to Maurice; and that Eugénie, though undoubtedly a “fair +soul,” was in this not distinguished from hundreds and thousands of +other women, need not matter very much after all. And with the rest +there need be few allowances, or only amicable ones. One may doubt +whether Heine’s charm is not mainly due to the very lawlessness, the +very contempt of “subject,” the very quips and cranks and caprices +that Mr Arnold so sternly bans. But who shall deny the excellence and +the exquisiteness of this, the first English tribute of any real worth +to the greatest of German poets, to one of the great poets of the +world, to the poet who with Tennyson and Hugo completes the +representative trinity of European poets of the nineteenth century +proper? Very seldom (his applause of Gray, the only other instance, is +not quite on a par with this) <a id="page091" name="page091" title="91" class="page"></a>does the critic so nearly approach +enthusiasm—not merely <i lang="fr">engouement</i> on the one side or serene +approval on the other. No matter that he pretends to admire Heine for +his “modern spirit” (why, <i>O Macarée</i>, as his friend Maurice de +Guérin might have said, should a modern spirit be better than an +ancient one, or what is either before the Eternal?) instead of for +what has been, conceitedly it may be, called the “tear-dew and +star-fire and rainbow-gold” of his phrase and verse. He felt this +magic at any rate. No matter that he applies the wrong comparison +instead of the right one, and depreciates French in order to exalt +German, instead of thanking Apollo for these two good different +things. The root of the matter is the right root, a discriminating +enthusiasm: and the flower of the matter is one of the most charming +critical essays in English. It is good, no doubt, to have made up +one’s mind about Heine before reading Mr Arnold; but one almost envies +those who were led to that enchanted garden by so delightful an +interpreter. +</p> + +<p> +Almost equally delightful, and with no touch of the sadness which must +always blend with any treatment of Heine, is the next essay, the pet, +I believe, of some very excellent judges, on “Pagan and Mediaeval +Religious Sentiment,” with its notable translation of Theocritus and +its contrast with St Francis. One feels, indeed, that Mr Arnold was +not quite so well equipped with knowledge on the one side as on the +other; indeed, he never was well read in mediæval literature. <a id="page092" name="page092" title="92" class="page"></a>But his +thesis, as a thesis, is capable of defence; in the sternest times of +military etiquette he could not have been put to death on the charge +of holding out an untenable post; and he puts the different sides with +incomparable skill and charm. Mr Arnold glosses Pagan morals rather +doubtfully, but so skilfully; he rumples and blackens mediæval life +more than rather unfairly, but with such a light and masterly touch! +</p> + +<p> +Different again, inferior perhaps, but certainly not in any hostile +sense inferior, is the “Joubert.” It has been the fashion with some to +join this essay to the Guérin pieces as an instance of some +incorrigible twist in Mr Arnold’s French estimates, of some inability +to admire the right things, even when he did admire I cannot agree +with them. Joubert, of course, has his own shortcomings as a +<i lang="fr">pensée</i>-writer. He is <i lang="fr">rococo</i> beside La Bruyére, +dilettante beside La Rochefoucauld, shallow beside Pascal. There is at +times, even if you take him by himself, and without comparison, +something thin and amateurish and conventional about him. But this is +by no means always or very often the case; and his merits, very great +in themselves, were even greater for Mr Arnold’s general purpose. +</p> + +<p> +That subtle and sensitive genius did not go wrong when it selected +Joubert as an eminent example of those gifts of the French mind which +most commended themselves to itself—an exquisite <i lang="fr">justesse</i>, an +alertness of spirit not shaking off rule and measure, above all, a +consummate propriety in the true and best, not the <a id="page093" name="page093" title="93" class="page"></a>limited sense of +the word. Nor is it difficult to observe in the shy philosopher a +temperament which must have commended itself to Mr Arnold almost as +strongly as his literary quality, and very closely indeed connected +with that—the temperament of equity, of <i lang="el">epieikeia</i>, of freedom +from swagger and brag and self-assertion. And here, once more, the +things receive precisely their right treatment, the treatment +proportioned and adjusted at once to their own value and nature and to +the use which their critic is intending to make of them. For it is one +of the greatest literary excellences of the <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i> +that, with rare exceptions, they bear a real relation to each other +and to the whole—that they are not a bundle but an organism; a +university, not a mob. +</p> + +<p> +The subjects of the two last essays, <i class="title">Spinoza</i> and <i class="title">Marcus +Aurelius</i>, may at first sight, and not at first sight only, seem +oddly chosen. For although the conception of literature illustrated in +the earlier part of the book is certainly wide, and admits—nay, +insists upon, as it always did with Mr Arnold—considerations of +subject in general and of morals and religion in particular, yet it is +throughout one of literature as such. Now, we cannot say that the +interest of Spinoza or that of Marcus Aurelius, great as it is in both +cases, is wholly, or in the main, or even in any considerable part, a +literary interest. With Spinoza it is a philosophical-religious +interest, with Marcus Aurelius a moral-religious, almost purely. The +one may indeed illustrate that attempt to <a id="page094" name="page094" title="94" class="page"></a>see things in a perfectly +white light which Mr Arnold thought so important in literature; the +other, that attention to conduct which he thought more important +still. But they illustrate these things in themselves, not in relation +to literature. They are less literary even than St Francis; far less +than the author of the <i class="title">Imitation</i>. +</p> + +<p> +It cannot therefore but be suspected that in including them Mr Arnold, +unconsciously perhaps, but more probably with some consciousness, was +feeling his way towards that wide extension of the province of the +critic, that resurrection of the general Socratic attitude, which he +afterwards adventured. But it cannot be said that his experiments are +on this particular occasion in any way disastrous. With both his +subjects he had the very strongest sympathy—with Spinoza (as already +with Heine) as a remarkable example of the Hebraic spirit and genius, +rebellious to or transcending the usual limitations of Hebraism; with +Marcus Aurelius as an example of that non-Christian morality and +religiosity which also had so strong an attraction for him. There is +no trace in either essay of the disquieting and almost dismaying +jocularity which was later to invade his discussion of such things: we +are still far from Bottles; the three Lord Shaftesburys relieve us by +not even threatening to appear. And accordingly the two essays add in +no small degree, though somewhat after the fashion of an appendix or +belated episode, to the charm of the book. They have an unction which +never, as it so often does in the case of Mr Arnold’s dangerous master +<a id="page095" name="page095" title="95" class="page"></a>and model Renan, degenerates into unctuosity; they are nobly serious, +but without being in the least dull; they contain some exceedingly +just and at the same time perfectly urbane criticism of the ordinary +reviewing kind, and though they are not without instances of the +author’s by-blows of slightly unproved opinion, yet these are by no +means eminent in them, and are not of a provocative nature. And I do +not think it fanciful to suppose that the note of grave if +unclassified piety, of reconciliation and resignation, with which they +close the book, was intended—that it was a deliberate “evening +voluntary” to play out of church the assistants at a most remarkable +function—such a function as criticism in English had not celebrated +before, such as, I think, it may without unfairness be said has not +been repeated since. <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, let us repeat, is a +book which is classed and placed, and it will remain in that class and +place: the fresh wreaths and the fresh mud, that may be in turn +unfitly thrown upon it, will affect neither. +</p> + +<p> +Between this remarkable book and the later ones of the same +<i lang="la">lustrum</i>, we may conveniently take up the thread of biography +proper where we last dropped it. The letters are fuller for this +period than perhaps for any other; but this very fulness makes it all +the more difficult to select incidents, never, perhaps, of the very +first importance, but vying with each other in the minor biographical +interests. A second fishing expedition to Viel Salm was attempted in +August 1862; but it did not escape the curse which seems to dog +attempts at repetition <a id="page096" name="page096" title="96" class="page"></a>of the same pleasure. The river was hopelessly +low; the fish would not take; and the traveller came back in very +little more than “a day and a night and a morrow.” By December +danger-signals are up in a letter to his mother, to the effect that +“it is intolerable absurdity to profess [who does?] to see +Christianity through the spectacles of a number of second- or +third-rate men who lived in Queen Elizabeth’s time”—that time so +fertile in nothing but the second-rate and the third. But it is +followed a little later by the less disputable observation, “It is +difficult to make out exactly at what [F.D.] Maurice is driving; +perhaps he is always a little dim in his own mind” on that point. +</p> + +<p> +The illuminations at the Prince of Wales’s marriage, where like other +people he found “the crowd very good-humoured,” are noted; and the +beginning of <i class="title">Thyrsis</i> where and while the fritillaries blow. But +from the literary point of view few letters are more interesting than +a short one to Sir Mountstuart (then Mr) Grant Duff, dated May 14, +1863, in which Mr Arnold declines an edition of Heine, the loan of +which was offered for his lecture—later the well-known essay. His +object, he says, “is not so much to give a literary history of Heine’s +work as to mark his place in modern European letters, and the special +tendency and significance of what he did.” He will, therefore, not +even read these things of Heine’s that he has not read, but will take +the <i class="title">Romancero</i> alone for his text, with a few quotations from +elsewhere, With a mere passing indication of the fact <a id="page097" name="page097" title="97" class="page"></a>that Matthew +Arnold here, like every good critic of this century, avowedly pursues +that plan of “placing” writers which some of his own admirers so +foolishly decry, I may observe that this is a <i lang="la">locus classicus</i> +for his own special kind of criticism. It is possible—I do not know +whether he did so—that Sir Mountstuart may, on receiving the letter, +have smiled and thought of “<span lang="fr">Mon siége est fait</span>”; but I am sure he +would be the first to admit that the cases were different. I do not +myself think that Mr Arnold’s strong point was that complete grasp of +a literary personality, and its place, which some critics aim at but +which few achieve. His impatience—here perhaps half implied and later +openly avowed—of the historic estimate in literature, would of itself +have made this process irksome to him. But on the lines of his own +special vocation as a critic it was not only irksome, it was +unnecessary. His function was to mark the special—perhaps it would be +safer to say <em>a</em> special—tendency of his man, and to bring that +out with all his devices of ingenious reduplication, fascinating +rhetoric, and skilful parading of certain favourite axioms and general +principles. This function would not have been assisted—I think it +nearly certain that it would have been hampered and baulked—by that +attempt to find “the whole” which the Greek philosopher and poet so +sadly and so truly declares that few boast to find. It was a side, a +face, a phase of each man and writer, that he wished to bring out; +and, though he might sometimes exaggerate this, yet his exaggeration +<a id="page098" name="page098" title="98" class="page"></a>was scarcely illegitimate. To bring out something he had to block out +much. If he had attempted to show the whole Goethe, the whole Heine, +the whole Homer or Shakespeare even, they would have been difficult if +not impossible to group and to compare in the fashion in which he +wished to deal with them. +</p> + +<p> +And except on the sheer assumption, which is surely a fallacy, that +<i lang="la">suppressio veri</i> is always and not only sometimes <i lang="la">suggestio +falsi</i>, I do not see that he exceeded a due licence in this matter, +while that he was wise in his generation there can be no doubt. He +wanted to influence the average Englishman, and he knew perfectly well +there is nothing the average Englishman dislikes so much as guarded +and elaborately conditioned statements. The immense popularity and +influence of Macaulay had been due to his hatred of half-lights, of +“perhapses”; and little as Mr Arnold liked Macaulay’s fiddle, he was +wise enough to borrow his rosin, albeit in disguise. If a critic makes +too many provisos, if he “buts” too much, if he attempts to paint the +warts as well as the beauties, he will be accused of want of sympathy, +he will be taxed with timorousness and hedging, at best he will be +blamed for wire-drawn and hair-splitting argument. The preambles of +exposition, the conclusions of summing up, will often be considered +tedious or impertinent. The opposite plan of selecting a nail and +hitting that on the head till you have driven it home was, in fact, as +much Mr Arnold’s as it was Macaulay’s. The hammer-play <a id="page099" name="page099" title="99" class="page"></a>of the first +was far more graceful and far less monotonous: yet it was hammer-play +all the same. But we must return to our <i class="title">Letters</i>. +</p> + +<p> +A dinner with Lord Houghton—“all the advanced Liberals in religion +and politics, and a Cingalese in full costume”—a visit to Cambridge +and a stroll to Grantchester, notice of about the first elaborate +appreciation of his critical work which had appeared in England, the +article by the late Mr S.H. Reynolds in the <i class="title">Westminster Review</i> +for October 1863, visits to the Rothschilds at Aston Clinton and +Mentmore, and interesting notices of the composition of the +<i class="title">Joubert</i>, the <i class="title">French Eton</i>, &c., fill up the year. The +death of Thackeray extracts one of those criticisms of his great +contemporaries which act as little douches from time to time, in the +words, “I cannot say that I thoroughly liked him, though we were on +friendly terms: and he was not to my mind a great writer.” But the +personal reflections which follow are of value. He finds “the sudden +cessation of so vigorous an existence very sobering. To-day I am +forty-one; the middle of life in any case, and for me perhaps much +more than the middle. I have ripened and am ripening so slowly that I +should be glad of as much time as possible. Yet I can feel, I rejoice +to say, an inward spring which seems more and more to gain strength +and to promise to resist outward shocks, if they must come, however +rough. But of this inward spring one must not talk [it is only to his +mother that he writes this] for it does not like being talked about, +<a id="page100" name="page100" title="100" class="page"></a>and threatens to depart if one will not leave it in mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +An interview with Mr Disraeli at Aston Clinton, not, as one may +suppose, without pleasant words, opens 1864. “It is only from +politicians who have themselves felt the spell of literature that one +gets these charming speeches,” he says, and they, not unnaturally, +charmed him so much that he left his dressing-case and his umbrella +behind him. But the anti-crusade is more and more declared. He “means +to deliver the middle-class out of the hand of their Dissenting +ministers,” and in the interval wants to know how “that beast of a +word ‘waggonette’ is spelt?” The early summer was spent at Woodford, +on the borders of Epping Forest, and the early autumn at Llandudno, +where Welsh scenery and the poetry of the Celtic race “quite +overpower” him. Alas! some other poetry did not, and when we find him +in September thinking <i class="title">Enoch Arden</i> “perhaps the best thing +Tennyson has done,” we are not surprised to find this remarkable +special appreciation followed by a general depreciation, which is +quite in keeping. He is even tempted (and of course asked) to write a +criticism of the Laureate, but justly replies, “How is that possible?” +</p> + +<p> +From 1865 we get numerous notices of the notices of the <i class="title">Essays</i>, +and a pleasant and full account of a second official tour on the +Continent, with special dwellings at most of the Western and Central +European capitals. The tour lasted from April to November, and I have +sometimes thought that it might, by itself, give a better <a id="page101" name="page101" title="101" class="page"></a>idea of Mr +Arnold as an epistoler than the <i class="title">Letters</i> at large seem to have +given. Early in 1866 we hear of the beginnings of the <i class="title">Friendship’s +Garland</i> series, though the occasion for that name did not come +till afterwards. And he spent the summer of that year (as he did that +of the next) in a farmhouse at West Humble, near Dorking, while he +caught “<em>a</em> salmon” in the Deveron during September. +</p> + +<p> +The occasion is perhaps a good one to say a few words on the relations +between Mr Arnold and M. Renan, though the latter is not so prominent +in the Continental letters as Sainte-Beuve and M. Scherer are. The +author of the <i class="title">Vie de Jésus</i> was a very slightly younger man than +Mr Arnold (he was born in 1823), but in consequence of his having left +the seminary and begun early to live by literary work, he was somewhat +in advance of his English compeer in literary repute. His +contributions to the <i class="title">Débats</i> and the <i class="title">Revue des Deux Mondes</i> +began to be collected soon after 1850, and his first remarkable single +book, <i class="title">Averroès et l’Averroisme</i>, dates from that year. I do not +know how early Mr Arnold became acquainted with his written work. But +they actually met in 1859, during the business of the Foreign +Education Commission, and there is a very remarkable passage in a +letter to Mrs Forster on Christmas Eve of that year. He tells his +sister of “Ernest Renan, a Frenchman I met in Paris,” and notes the +considerable resemblance between their lines of endeavour, observing, +however, that Renan is chiefly “trying to inculcate morality, in a +high sense <a id="page102" name="page102" title="102" class="page"></a>of the word, on the French,” while <em>he</em> is trying to +inculcate intelligence on the English. After which he makes a long and +enthusiastic reference to the essay, <i class="title">Sur la Poésie des Races +Celtiques</i>, the literary results of which we shall soon see. I do +not know whether Mr Arnold ever expressed to his intimates—for the +reference to M. Renan in “Numbers” is not quite explicit—what he +thought of those later and very peculiar developments of “morality in +a high sense of the word” which culminated in the <i class="title">Abbesse de +Jouarre</i> and other things. His sense of humour must have painfully +suggested to him that his own familiar friend and pattern Frenchman +had become one of the most conspicuous examples of that French +lubricity which he himself denounced. But there was no danger of his +imitating M. Renan in this respect. In others the following was quite +unmistakable, and, I am bound to say, on the whole rather disastrous. +In literary criticism Mr Arnold needed no teaching from M. Renan, and +as his English training on one of its sides preserved him from the +Frenchman’s sentimental hedonism, so on another it kept him from the +wildest excesses of M. Renan’s critical reconstructions of sacred +history. But he copied a great deal too much of his master’s +dilettante attitude to religion as a whole, and, as we shall see, he +adopted and carried a great deal further M. Renan’s (I am told) not +particularly well-informed and (I am sure) very hazardous and +fantastic ideas about Celtic literature. On the whole, the two were +far too much alike to do each other any good. Exquisite even <a id="page103" name="page103" title="103" class="page"></a>as M. +Renan’s mere style is, it is exquisite by reason of sweetness, with a +certain not quite white and slightly phosphorescent light, not by +strength or by practical and masculine force. Now it was the latter +qualities that Mr Arnold wanted; sweetness and light he could not +want. +</p> + +<p> +As the tenure of his Chair drew to a close, and as he began to loathe +examination papers more and more (indeed I know no one to whom <i lang="la">usus +concinnat amorem</i> in the case of these documents), he made some +endeavours to obtain employment which might be, if not both more +profitable and less onerous, at any rate one or the other. First he +tried for a Charity Commissionership; then for the librarianship of +the House of Commons. For the former post it may be permitted to think +that his extremely strong—in fact partisan—opinions, +both on education and on the Church of +England, were a most serious disqualification; his appointment +to the latter would have been an honour to +the House and to England, and would have shown that +sometimes at any rate the right man can find the right +place. But he got neither. He delivered his last Oxford +lecture in the summer term of 1867. I remember that there were strong +undergraduate hopes that Mr Browning, who was an Honorary M.A., might +be got to succeed him; but it was decided that the honorary +qualification was insufficient, and I daresay there were other +objections. Mr Arnold had a sort of “send-off” in the shape of two +great dinners at Balliol and Merton, <a id="page104" name="page104" title="104" class="page"></a>at which he and Mr Browning were +the principal guests, and the close of his professorial career was +further made memorable by the issue of the <i class="title">Study of Celtic +Literature</i> in prose and the <i class="title">New Poems</i> in verse, with +<i class="title">Schools and Universities on the Continent</i> to follow next year. +Of these something must be said before this chapter is closed. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">On the Study of Celtic Literature</i> is the first book of his to +which, as a whole, and from his own point of view, we may take rather +serious objections. That it has merits not affected by these +objections need hardly be said; indeed I think it would not be foolish +to say that it is—or was—even the superior of the <i class="title">Homer</i> in +comparative and indirect importance. In that Mr Arnold had but, at the +best, roused men to enter upon new ways of dealing with old and +familiar matter; in this he was leading them to conquest of new +realms. Now, as we have seen, it was exactly this exploration, this +expansion, of which English was then in most need, just as it is now +perhaps in most need of concentration and retreat upon the older +acquisitions. +</p> + +<p> +So far so good; but if we go farther, we do not at first fare better. +It would be grossly unjust to charge Mr Arnold with all the nonsense +which has since been talked about Celtic Renascences; but I fear we +cannot write all that nonsense off his account. In particular, he set +an example, which has in this and other matters been far too widely +followed, of speaking without sufficient knowledge of fact. <a id="page105" name="page105" title="105" class="page"></a>It cannot +be too peremptorily laid down that the literary equivalent of a +“revoke”—the literary act after which, if he does it on purpose, you +must not play with a man—is speaking of authors and books which he +has not read and cannot read in the original, while he leaves you +ignorant of his ignorance. <i class="title">This</i> Mr Arnold never committed, and +could never have committed. But short of it, and while escaping its +penalty, a man may err by speaking too freely even of what he +confesses that he does not know; and of this minor and less +discreditable sin, I own (acknowledging most frankly that I know even +less of the <em>originals</em> than he did), I think Mr Arnold was here +guilty. +</p> + +<p> +Exactly how much Gaelic, Irish, or Welsh Mr Arnold knew at first-hand, +I cannot say: he frankly enough confesses that his knowledge was very +closely limited. But what is really surprising, is that he does not +seem to have taken much trouble to extend it at second-hand. A very +few Welsh triads and scraps of Irish are all that, even in +translation, he seems to have consulted: he never, I think, names +Dafydd ap Gwilym, usually put forward as the greatest of Celtic poets; +and in the main his citations are derived either from <i class="title">Ossian</i> +(“this do seem going far,” as an American poetess observes), or else +from the <i class="title">Mabinogion</i>, where some of the articles are positively +known to be late translations of French-English originals, and the +others are very <a id="page106" name="page106" title="106" class="page"></a>uncertain. You really cannot found any safe literary +generalisations on so very small a basis of such very shaky matter. In +fact, Mr Arnold’s argument for the presence of “Celtic magic,” &c., in +Celtic poetry comes to something like this. “There is a quality of +magic in Shakespeare, Keats, &c.; this magic must be Celtic: therefore +it must be in Celtic poetry.” Fill up the double enthymeme who list, I +am not going to endeavour to do so. I shall only say that two +sentences give the key-note of the book as argument. “Rhyme itself, +all the weight of evidence tends to show, came into our poetry from +the Celts.” Now to some of us all the weight of evidence tends to show +that it came from the Latins. “Our only first-rate body of +contemporary poetry is the German.” Now at the time (1867), for more +than thirty years, Germany had not had a single poet of the first or +the second class except Heine, who, as Mr Arnold himself very truly +says, was not a German but a Jew. +</p> + +<p> +But once more, what we go to Mr Matthew Arnold for is not fact, it is +not argument, it is not even learning. It is phrase, attitude, style, +that by which, as he says admirably in this very book, “what a man has +to say is recast and heightened in such a manner as to add dignity and +distinction to it.” It is the new critical attitude, the appreciation +of literary beauty in and for itself, the sense of “the word,” the +power of discerning and the power of reflecting charm, the method <a id="page107" name="page107" title="107" class="page"></a>not +more different from the wooden deduction of the old school of critics +than from the merely unenlightened and Philistine commonness of the +reviewers, his earlier contemporaries, or from the aimless “I like +that” and “I don’t like this” which does duty now, and did then, and +has done always, for criticism itself. True, Mr Arnold himself might +be wilful, capricious, haphazard; true, he might often be absolutely +unable to give any real reason for the faith that was in him; true, he +sometimes might have known more than he did know about his subject. +But in all these points he saved himself: in his wilfulness, by the +grace and charm that sometimes attend caprice; in his want of reason, +by his genuineness of faith itself; in his occasional lack of the +fullest knowledge, by the admirable use—not merely display—which he +made of what knowledge he had. There may be hardly a page of the two +books of his lectures in which it is not possible to find some +opportunity for disagreement—sometimes pretty grave disagreement; but +I am sure that no two more valuable books, in their kind and subject, +to their country and time, have been ever issued from the press. +</p> + +<p> +The <i class="title">New Poems</i> make a volume of unusual importance in the +history of poetical careers. Mr Arnold lived more than twenty years +after the date of their publication; but his poetical production +during that time filled no more than a few pages. At this date he was +a man of forty-five—an age at which the poetical <a id="page108" name="page108" title="108" class="page"></a>impulse has been +supposed to run low, but perhaps with no sufficient reason. Poets of +such very different types as Dryden and Tennyson have produced work +equal to their best, if not actually their best, at that age and +later. Mr Browning had, a few years before, produced what are perhaps +his actually greatest volumes, <i class="title">Men and Women</i> and <i class="title">Dramatis +Personae</i>, the one at forty-three, the other at fifty-two. +According to Mr Arnold’s own conception of poetry-making, as depending +upon the subject and upon the just and artist-like exposition of that +subject, no age should be too late. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly this age was not too late with him. The contents all +answered strictly enough to their title, except that <i class="title">Empedocles on +Etna</i> and some half-dozen of its companions were, at Mr Browning’s +request, reprinted from the almost unpublished volume of 1852, and +that <i class="title">Thyrsis, St Brandan, A Southern Night</i>, and the <i class="title">Grande +Chartreuse</i> had made magazine appearances. Again the moment was +most important. When Mr Arnold had last made (omitting with an apology +the “transient and embarrassed phantom” of <i class="title">Merope</i>) an +appearance in 1855, the transition age of English nineteenth-century +poetry was in full force. No one’s place was safe but Tennyson’s; and +even his was denied by some, including Mr Arnold himself, who never +got his eyes quite clear of scales in that matter. Browning, though he +had handed in indisputable proofs, had not yet had <a id="page109" name="page109" title="109" class="page"></a>them allowed; the +Spasmodics had not disappeared; the great prae-Raphaelite school was +but on the way. The critics knew not what to think; the vulgar thought +(to the tune of myriad copies) of Tupper. Both classes, critic and +public, rent <i class="title">Maud</i> and neglected <i class="title">Men and Women: The Defence +of Guenevere</i> had not yet rung the matins—bell in the ears of the +new generation. +</p> + +<p> +Now things were all altered. The mixture of popularity and perfection +in the <i class="title">Idylls</i> and the <i class="title">Enoch Arden</i> volume—the title poem +and <i class="title">Aylmer’s Field</i> for some, <i class="title">The Voyage</i> and +<i class="title">Tithonus</i> and <i class="title">In the Valley of Cauterets</i> for others—had +put Tennyson’s place +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Beyond the arrows, shouts, and views of men.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +The three-volume collection of Browning’s <i class="title">Poems</i>, and +<i class="title">Dramatis Personae</i> which followed to clench it, had nearly, if +not quite, done the same for him. <i class="title">The Defence of Guenevere</i> and +<i class="title">The Life and Death of Jason, Atalanta, Chastelard</i>, and most of +all the <i class="title">Poems and Ballads</i>, had launched an entirely new +poetical school with almost unexampled pomp and promise on the world. +The Spasmodics were forgotten, the Tupper cult had been nearly (not +yet quite) laughed out of existence. That Mr Arnold’s own poems had +had any widely extended sale or reading could hardly be said; but they +were read by those who were or were shortly to be themselves read. You +had not to look far in any Oxford college (I cannot speak of +Cambridge) <a id="page110" name="page110" title="110" class="page"></a>before you found them on those undergraduate shelves which +mean so much; while many who, from general distaste to poetry or from +accident, knew them not, or hardly knew them, were familiar with their +author’s prose work, or at least knew him as one whom others knew. +</p> + +<p> +The volume itself was well calculated to take advantage, to at least a +moderate extent, of this conjunction of circumstance. At no time was +the appeal of Mr Arnold’s poetry of the most impetuous or peremptory +order. And it might be contended that this collection contains nothing +quite up to the very best things of the earlier poems, to the +<i class="title">Shakespeare</i> sonnet, to <i class="title">The Scholar-Gipsy</i>, to the +<i class="title">Isolation</i> stanzas. But with the majority of its readers it was +sure rather to send them to these earlier things than to remind them +thereof, and its own attractions were abundant, various, and strong. +</p> + +<p> +In the poet himself there was perhaps a slight consciousness of “the +silver age.” The prefatory <i class="title">Stanzas</i>, a title changed in the +collected works to <i class="title">Persistency of Poetry</i>, sound this note— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Though the Muse be gone away,<br /> + Though she move not earth to-day,<br /> + Souls, erewhile who caught her word,<br /> + Ah! still harp on what they heard.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +A confession perhaps a little dangerous, when the Muses were speaking +in no uncertain tones not merely to juniors like Mr Morris and Mr +Swinburne but to <a id="page111" name="page111" title="111" class="page"></a>seniors like Tennyson and Browning. But the actual +contents were more than reassuring. Of <i class="title">Empedocles</i> it is not +necessary to speak again: <i class="title">Thyrsis</i> could not but charm. The +famous line, +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “And that sweet city with her dreaming spires,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +sets the key dangerously high; but it is kept by the magnificent +address to the cuckoo, +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + ”Too quick despairer, wherefore wilt thou go?“ +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and the flower-piece that follows; by that other single masterpiece, +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + ”The coronals of that forgotten time;“ +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +by the more solemn splendour of the stanza beginning +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “And long the way appears which seemed so short;” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +by the Signal tree; and by the allegoric close with the reassertion of +the Scholar. All these things stand by themselves, hold their sure and +reserved place, even in the rush and crowd of the poetry of the +sixties, the richest, perhaps, since the time from 1805 to 1822. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">Saint Brandan</i>, which follows, has pathos if not great power, +and connects itself agreeably with those Celtic and mediaeval studies +which had just attracted and occupied Mr Arnold. The sonnets which +form the next division might be variously judged. None of them equals +the <i class="title">Shakespeare</i>; and one may legitimately hold the opinion that +the sonnet was not specially Mr Arnold’s form. Its greatest examples +have always been reached by the reflex, the almost combative, <a id="page112" name="page112" title="112" class="page"></a>action +of intense poetic feeling—Shakespeare’s, Milton’s, Wordsworth’s, +Rossetti’s—and intensity was not Mr Arnold’s characteristic. Yet +<i class="title">Austerity of Poetry, East London</i>, and <i class="title">Monica’s Last +Prayer</i> must always stand so high in the second class that it is +hardly critical weakness to allow them the first. And then the tide +rises. <i class="title">Calais Sands</i> may not be more than very pretty, but it is +that, and <i class="title">Dover Beach</i> is very much more. Mr Arnold’s +theological prepossessions and assumptions may appear in it, and it +may be unfortunately weak as an argument, for except the flood itself +nothing is so certain a testimony to the flood as the ebb. But the +order, the purpose, the argument, the subject, matter little to +poetry. The expression, the thing that is <em>not</em> the subject, the +tendency outside the subject, which makes for poetry, are here, and +almost of the very best. Here you have that passionate interpretation +of life, which is so different a thing from the criticism of it; that +marvellous pictorial effect to which the art of line and colour itself +is commonplace and <em>banal</em>, and which prose literature never +attains except by a <i lang="fr">tour de force</i>; that almost more marvellous +accompaniment of vowel and consonant music, independent of the sense +but reinforcing it, which is the glory of English poetry among all, +and of nineteenth-century poetry among all English, poetries. As is +the case with most Englishmen, the sea usually inspired Mr Arnold—it +is as natural to great English poets to leave the echo of the very +word ringing at the close <a id="page113" name="page113" title="113" class="page"></a>of their verse as it was to Dante to end +with “stars.” But it has not often inspired any poet so well as this, +nor anywhere this poet better than here. If at any time a critic may +without fatuity utter judgment with some confidence, it is where he +disagrees with the sentiment and admires the poem; and for my part I +find in <i class="title">Dover Beach</i>, even without the <i class="title">Merman</i>, without +the <i class="title">Scholar-Gipsy</i>, without <i class="title">Isolation</i>, a document which I +could be content to indorse “Poetry, <i lang="fr">sans phrase</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">The Terrace at Berne</i> has been already dealt with, but that mood +for epicede, which was so frequent in Mr Arnold, finds in the +<i class="title">Carnac</i> stanzas adequate, and in <i class="title">A Southern Night</i> +consummate, expression. <i class="title">The Fragment of Chorus of a Dejaneira</i>, +written long before, but now first published, has the usual faults of +Mr Arnold’s rhymeless verse. It is really quite impossible, when one +reads such stuff as— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Thither in your adversity<br /> + Do you betake yourselves for light,<br /> + But strangely misinterpret all you hear.<br /> + For you will not put on<br /> + New hearts with the inquirer’s holy robe<br /> + And purged considerate minds”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +not to ask what, poetically speaking, is the difference between this +and the following— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “To college in the pursuit of duly<br /> + Did I betake myself for lecture;<br /> + But very soon I got extremely wet,<br /> + For I had not put on<br /> + The stout ulster appropriate to Britain,<br /> + And my umbrella was at home.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +<a id="page114" name="page114" title="114" class="page"></a>But <i class="title">Palladium</i>, if not magnificent, is reconciling, the +Shakespearian <i class="title">Youth’s Agitations</i> beautiful, and <i class="title">Growing +Old</i> delightful, not without a touch of terror. It is the reply, +the <i lang="de">verneinung</i>, to Browning’s magnificent <i class="title">Rabbi ben +Ezra</i>, and one has almost to fly to that stronghold in order to +resist its chilling influence. But it is poetry for all that, and +whatever there is in it of weakness is redeemed, though not quite so +poetically, by <i class="title">The Last Word</i>. The <i class="title">Lines written in +Kensington Gardens</i> (which had appeared with <i class="title">Empedocles</i>, but +were missed above) may be half saddened, half endeared to some by +their own remembrance of the “black-crowned red-boled” giants there +celebrated—trees long since killed by London smoke, as the +good-natured say, as others, by the idiotic tidiness of the gardeners, +who swept the needles up and left the roots without natural comfort +and protection. And then, after lesser things, the interesting, if not +intensely poetical, <i class="title">Epilogue to Lessing’s Laocoon</i> leads us to +one of the most remarkable of all Mr Arnold’s poems, <i class="title">Bacchanalia, +or the New Age</i>. The word remarkable has been used advisedly. +<i class="title">Bacchanalia</i>, though it has poignant and exquisite poetic +moments, is not one of the most specially <em>poetical</em> of its +author’s pieces. But it is certainly his only considerable piece of +that really poetic humour which is so rare and delightful a thing. +And, like all poetic humour, it oscillates between cynicism and +passion almost bewilderingly. For a little more of this what pages and +pages of jocularity <a id="page115" name="page115" title="115" class="page"></a>about Bottles and the Rev. Esau Hittall would we +not have given! what volumes of polemic with the <i class="title">Guardian</i> and +amateur discussions of the Gospel of St John! In the first place, note +the metrical structure, the sober level octosyllables of the overture +changing suddenly to a dance-measure which, for a wonder in English, +almost keeps the true dactylic movement. How effective is the +rhetorical iteration of +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The famous orators have shone,<br /> + The famous poets sung and gone,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and so on for nearly half a score of lines! How perfect the sad +contrast of the refrain— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “<em>Ah! so the quiet was!<br /> + So was the hush!</em>” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +how justly set and felicitously worded the rural picture of the +opening! how riotous the famous irruption of the New Agers! how +adequate the quiet-moral of the end, that the Past is as the Present, +and more also! And then he went and wrote about Bottles! +</p> + +<p> +“Progress,” with a splendid opening— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The master stood upon the mount and taught—<br /> + He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes,”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +conducts us to two other fine, though rhymeless, dirges. In the first, +<i class="title">Rugby Chapel</i>, the intensity of feeling is sufficient to carry +off the lack of lyrical accomplishment. The other is the still better +<i class="title">Heine’s Grave</i>, and contains the famous and slightly +pusillanimous lines <a id="page116" name="page116" title="116" class="page"></a>about the “weary Titan,” which are among the best +known of their author’s, and form at once the motto and the stigma of +mid-century Liberal policy. And then the book is concluded by two +other elegies—in rhyme this time—<i class="title">The Stanzas written at the +Grande Chartreuse</i> and <i class="title">Obermann once more</i>. They are, +however, elegies of a different kind, much more self-centred, and, +indeed, little more than fresh variations on “the note,” as I ventured +to call it before. Their descriptive and autobiographic interest is +great, and if poetry were a criticism of life, there is plenty of that +of them. The third book—<i class="title">Schools and Universities on the +Continent</i> (1868)—in which are put the complete results of the +second Continental exploration—is, I suppose, much less known than +the non-professional work, though perhaps not quite so unknown as the +earlier report on elementary education. By far the larger part of it—the +whole, indeed, except a “General Conclusion” of some forty pages—is +a reasoned account of the actual state of matters in France, Italy, +Germany, and Switzerland. It is not exactly judicial; for the +conclusion—perhaps the foregone conclusion—obviously colours every +page. But it is an excellent example (as, indeed, is all its author’s +non-popular writing) of clear and orderly exposition—never arranged +<i class="title">ad captandum</i>, but also never “dry.” Indeed there certainly are +some tastes, and there may be many, to which the style is a distinct +relief after the less quiet and more mannered graces of some of the +rest. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="page117" name="page117" title="117" class="page"></a>Opinions may differ more as to the value of the book as a lesson, or +as an argument. Mr Arnold had started with a strong belief in the +desirableness—indeed of the necessity—of State-control of the most +thoroughgoing kind in education; and he was not at all likely to miss +the opportunity of fetching new weapons from the very arsenals and +<i lang="fr">places d’armes</i> of that system. He was thoroughly convinced that +English ways generally, and especially the ways of English schools and +colleges, were wrong; and he had, of course, no difficulty in pointing +triumphantly to the fact that, if the institutions of Continental +countries differed in some ways from each other, they all differed in +nearly the same way from ours. It may undoubtedly be claimed for him—by +those who see any force in the argument—that events have followed +him. Education, both secondary and university in England, <em>has</em> +to a large extent gone since on the lines he indicates; the threatened +superiority of the German bagman has asserted itself even more and +more; the “teaching of literature” has planted a terrible fixed foot +in our schools and colleges. But perhaps the weight usually assigned +to this kind of corroboration is rather imaginary. That a thing has +happened does not prove that it ought to have happened, except on a +theory of determinism, which puts “conduct” out of sight altogether. +There are those who will still, in the vein of +Mephistopheles-Akinetos, urge that the system which gave us the men +who pulled us out of the Indian Mutiny can stand comparison with <a id="page118" name="page118" title="118" class="page"></a>the +system which gave France the authors of the <i lang="fr">débâcle;</i> that the +successes of Germany over France in war have no necessary connection +with education, and those of Germany over England in commerce, +diplomacy, &c., still less. They will even go further—some of them—and +ask whether the Continental practices and the Arnoldian principles +do not necessitate divers terribly large and terribly ill-based +assumptions, as that all men are <em>educable</em>, that the value of +education is undiminished by its diffusion, that all, or at least +most, subjects are capable of being made educational instruments, and +a great many more. +</p> + +<p> +On the other hand, they will cheerfully grant that Mr Arnold never +succumbed to that senseless belief in examination which has done, and +is doing, such infinite harm. But they will add to the debit side that +the account of English university studies which ends the book was even +at the time of writing so inaccurate as to be quite incomprehensible, +unless we suppose that Mr Arnold was thinking of the days of his own +youth, and not of those with complete accuracy. He says “the +examination for the degree of bachelor of arts, which we place at the +end of our three years’ university course, is merely the +<i lang="de">Abiturienten-examen</i> of Germany, the <i lang="fr">épreuve du +baccalauréat</i> of France, placed in both those countries at the +entrance to university studies”; and it is by this that he justifies +Signer Matteucci’s absurd description of Oxford and Cambridge as +<i lang="fr">hauts lyceés</i> Now, in the first place, there is not one single +word in this sentence, <a id="page119" name="page119" title="119" class="page"></a>or in the context, or, so far as I remember, in +the whole book, about the Honours system, which for very many years +before 1868 had exalted the standard infinitely higher in the case of +a very large proportion of men. And in the second place, there is not +a word about the Scholarship system, which in the same way had for +very many years provided an entrance standard actually higher—far +higher in some ways—than the <em>concluding</em> examinations of the +French <i lang="fr">baccalauréat</i>. My own days at Oxford were from 1863 to +1868, the year of Mr Arnold’s book. During that time there were always +in the university some 400 men who had actually obtained scholarships +on this standard; and a very considerable number who had competed on +it, and done fairly. Whether Mr Arnold shared Mark Pattison’s craze +about the abolition of the pass-man altogether, I do not know. But he +ought to have known, and I should think he must have known, that at +the time of his writing the mere and sheer pass-man—the man whose +knowledge was represented by the minimum of Smalls, Mods, and Greats—was, +if not actually in a minority,—in some colleges at least he was +that—at any rate in a pretty bare majority. With his love of +interference and control, he might have retorted that this did not +matter, that the university <em>permitted</em> every one to stick to the +minimum. But as a matter of fact he suggests that it provided no +alternative, no <i lang="la">maximum</i> or <i lang="la">majus</i> at all. +</p> + +<p> +By the time that we have now reached, that of his giving up the +professorship, Mr Arnold’s position was, <a id="page120" name="page120" title="120" class="page"></a>for good and for evil, mostly +fixed. When he took up the duties of his chair he was, though by no +means a very young man and already the author of much remarkable work, +yet almost unknown out of Oxford and a small official circle in +London. He had now, at forty-five, not exactly popularity, but a very +considerable, and a very lively and growing, reputation. By far the +most and the best of his poetry was written; but it was only just +coming to be at all generally read or at all justly appreciated. He +had, partly in obeying, and partly in working against his official +superiors, acquired a distinct position as an educational reformer. He +had become something of a figure in society. But, above all, he had +proclaimed with undoubting authority, and had exemplified with +remarkable and varied skill, a new or at least a very greatly altered +kind of literary criticism. And this had already threatened incursions +into domains from which men of letters as such had generally kept +aloof, or which, if they had touched, they had touched not as men of +letters. Something of Socrates, something of Addison, something of +Johnson, mingled in Mr Arnold’s presentation of himself as, if not +exactly an arbiter, at any rate a suggester of elegances in all +things, poetry and politics, prose and polite manners, public thought, +public morality, religion itself. These pretensions, if urged in a +less agreeable manner, would have been intolerable; they were not +universally tolerated as it was: but the gifts and graces of the +critic made them—so far—inoffensive, even rather fascinating, to all +save <a id="page121" name="page121" title="121" class="page"></a>the least accommodating or the most clear-sighted, and to some +even of these. +</p> + +<p> +And we must remember that this appearance of Mr Arnold as the mild and +ingenious tamer of the ferocious manners of Britons coincided with far +wider and more remarkable innovations. This was the time, at home, of +the second Parliamentary Reform, which did at least as much to +infringe the authority of his enemy the Philistine, as the first had +done to break the power of the half-dreaded, half-courted Barbarian. +This was the time when, abroad, the long-disguised and disorganised +power of Germany was to rearrange the map of Europe, and to bring +about a considerable rearrangement of Mr Arnold’s own ideas as to the +respective greatness of foreign nations. And finally the walls of +another stronghold of British Philistia, its intense and apparently +impregnable self-satisfaction with Free-trade and cheap money and so +forth, were tottering and crumbling. A blast against them—indeed a +series of blasts from <i class="title">Chartism</i> to the <i class="title">Latter-day +Pamphlets</i>—had been blown long before by Carlyle, in very +different tones from Mr Arnold’s. They had lost their stoutest +champion and their most eloquent panegyrist in Macaulay. But Sadowa +and household suffrage gave the final summons, if not the final shake. +Mr Arnold had done his best to co-operate; but his object, to do him +justice, was to be rather a raiser of the walls of Thebes than an +over-thrower of those of Jericho, or even of Ashdod. He set about, in +all seriousness, to clear away the rubbish <a id="page122" name="page122" title="122" class="page"></a>and begin the +re-edification; unluckily, in but too many cases, with dubious +judgment, and by straying into quarters where he had no vocation. But +he never entirely neglected his real business and his real vocation, +and fortunately he returned to them almost entirely before it was too +late. +</p> + + + + +<h2><a id="page123" name="page123" title="123" class="page"></a><a id="iv" name="iv">Chapter IV.</a></h2> + +<h3>In the Wilderness.</h3> + + +<p> +That the end of Mr Arnold’s tenure of the Professorship of Poetry was +a most important epoch in his life is sufficiently evident. In the ten +years that came to an end then, he had, as two such extremely +competent judges as Mr Disraeli and Crabb Robinson in different ways +told him,<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-13" class="link">[13]</a></span> passed from comparative obscurity into <a id="page124" name="page124" title="124" class="page"></a>something more +than comparative prominence. His chair had been for him a real +<i lang="la">cathedra</i>, and his deliverances from it had always assumed, and +had at length, to a great extent, achieved, real authority. In +criticism it was evident that if he had not revealed positively novel +aspects of truth, he had formulated and put on record aspects which +were presenting themselves to many, nay, most, of the best critical +minds of his day. His criticism had drawn his poetry with it, if not +into actual popularity, yet into something like attention. His +attempts to obtain some other employment less irksome, less absorbing, +and more profitable, had indeed been unsuccessful; but he was rising +in his own department, and his work, if still in part uncongenial and +decidedly laborious, appears to have been much less severe than in +earlier days. Partly this work itself, partly his writings, and partly +other causes had opened to him a very large circle of acquaintance, +which it was in his own power to extend or contract as he pleased. His +domestic life was perfectly happy, if his means were not very great: +and his now assured literary position made it easy for him to increase +these means, not indeed largely, but to a not despicable extent, by +writing. The question was, “What should he write?” +</p> + +<p> +It is probably idle ever to wish that a man had done anything +different from that which he has done. Without being a rigid +Determinist, one may be pretty well convinced that the actual conduct +is the joint result of <a id="page125" name="page125" title="125" class="page"></a>abilities, and of desires, and of opportunity +to exercise them, and that the man, had he really done otherwise, +would have been unsuccessful or unhappy or both. But I fear that if I +had been arbiter of Mr Arnold’s fate at this moment I should have +arranged it differently. He should have given us more poems—the man +who, far later, wrote the magnificent <i class="title">Westminster Abbey</i> on such +a subject as Dean Stanley, had plenty more poetry in his sack. And in +prose he should have given us infinite essays, as many as De Quincey’s +or as Sainte-Beuve’s own, and more than Hazlitt’s, of the kind of the +<i class="title">Heine</i> and the <i class="title">Joubert</i> earlier, of the <i class="title">Wordsworth</i> +and the <i class="title">Byron</i> later. I can see no reason why, in the twenty-one +years’ lease of life upon which he now entered, he should not have +produced a volume a-year of these,—there are more than enough +subjects in the various literatures that he knew; and though it is +possible that in such extended application his method might have +proved monotonous, or his range have seemed narrow, it is not likely. +To complete the thing, I should have given him, instead of his +inspectorship, a headship at Oxford, for which, it seems to me, he was +admirably fitted. But <i lang="la">Dis aliter visum</i>: at least it seemed +otherwise good to Mr Arnold himself as far as his literary employments +were concerned, and the gods did not interfere. +</p> + +<p> +We have seen that he had, some years before, conceived the ambitious +idea of changing the mind of England on a good many points by no means +merely <a id="page126" name="page126" title="126" class="page"></a>literary; and he seems, not altogether unnaturally, to have +thought that now was the time to apply seriously to that work. His +tenure of the Oxford chair had given him the public ear; and the +cessation of that tenure had removed any official seal of etiquette +which it might have laid on his own lips. A far less alert and acute +mind than his must have seen that the Reform troubles of 1866 and the +“leap in the dark” of 1867 were certain to bring about very great +changes indeed at home; and that the war of the first-named year meant +the alteration of many things abroad. He at least thought—and there +was some justification of a good many kinds for him in thinking—that +intellectual changes, of importance equal to the political, were +coming or come upon the world. And so for a time he seems to have +grown rather cold towards the Muses, his earliest and always his +truest loves. Social, political, and religious matters tempted him +away from literature; and for a matter of ten years it can hardly be +said that he had anything to do with her except to take her name in +vain in the title of by far his worst, as it was by far his most +popular, volume. +</p> + +<p> +It has been hinted in a note on one of the early pages in this book +that the secret of this unfortunate twist is at least partly to be +found in the peculiar character of Mr Arnold’s official employment. +For nearly twenty years he had been constantly thrown into contact +with the English Dissenters; and, far earlier than the time which we +have reached, they seem not only, in familiar <a id="page127" name="page127" title="127" class="page"></a>phrase, to have “got +upon his nerves,” but to have affected his brain. He saw all things in +Dissent—or, at least, in the middle-class Philistine Dissenter. His +Philistia is not in the least a true portrait of the average +middle-class household thirty or forty years ago; though, I daresay (I +have little direct knowledge), it is not an unfair one of the average +Dissenting middle-class household. The religion which Mr Arnold +attacks is not the religion of the Church of England at all, or only +of what was even then a decaying and uninfluential part of it, the +extremer and more intolerant sect of the Evangelicals. Once more, I +cannot from personal knowledge say whether this portrait was true of +Dissent, but I can believe it. +</p> + +<p> +Now, to derive an idea of England from the English Dissenter is and +was absurd. Politically, indeed, he had only too much power between +1832 and 1866, from the tradition which made Liberal politicians fond +of petting him. Socially, intellectually, and to a great extent +religiously, he had next to no power at all. To take the average +manager of a “British” school as the average representative of the +British nation was the wildest and most mischievous of confusions. Yet +this practically was the basis of Mr Arnold’s crusade between 1867 and +1877. +</p> + +<p> +The First Blast of the Trumpet was, intentionally no doubt, the last +of the Oxford lectures, and for that very reason a rather gentle and +insinuating one. <i class="title">Culture its Enemies</i>, which was the origin and +first part, so <a id="page128" name="page128" title="128" class="page"></a>to say, of <i class="title">Culture and Anarchy</i>, carried the +campaign begun in the <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i> forward; but only in +the most cautious manner, a caution no doubt partly due to the fact of +the author’s expressed, and very natural and proper, intention of +closing his professorial exercises with the <i lang="it">bocca dolce</i>. Still +this is at least conceivably due to the fact that the boldest +extension of the campaign itself had not definitely entered, or at +least possessed, the author’s mind. A considerable time, indeed from +July 1867 to January 1868, passed before the publication of the +lecture as an article in the <i class="title">Cornhill</i> was followed up by the +series from the latter month to August, which bore the general title +of <i class="title">Anarchy and Authority</i>, and completed the material of +<i class="title">Culture and Anarchy</i> itself. This, as a book, appeared in 1869. +</p> + +<p> +It began, according to the author’s favourite manner, which was +already passing into something like a mannerism, with a sort of +half-playful, half-serious battery against a living writer (in this +case Mr Frederic Harrison), and with a laudatory citation from a dead +one (in this case Bishop Wilson). Mr Harrison had blasphemed “the cant +about culture,” and Mr Arnold protests that culture’s only aim is in +the Bishop’s words, “to make reason and the will of God prevail.” In +the first chapter, famous thenceforward in English literature by its +title, borrowed from Swift, of “Sweetness and Light,” we have the old +rallyings of the <i class="title">Daily Telegraph</i> and the <i class="title">Nonconformist</i>. +Then the general view is laid <a id="page129" name="page129" title="129" class="page"></a>down, and is developed in those that +follow, but still with more of a political than a religious bent, and +with the political bent itself chiefly limited to the social aspect. +</p> + +<p> +“Doing as one Likes” scatters a mild rain of ridicule on this supposed +fetich of all classes in England; and then, the very famous, if not +perhaps very felicitous, nickname-classification of +“Barbarian-Philistine-Populace” is launched, defended, discussed in a +chapter to itself. To do Mr Arnold justice, the three classes are, if +not very philosophically defined, very impartially and amusingly +rallied, the rallier taking up that part of humble Philistine +conscious of his own weaknesses, which, till he made it slightly +tiresome by too long a run, was piquant enough. The fourth chapter, +“Hebraism and Hellenism,” coasts the sands and rocks (on which, as it +seems to some, Mr Arnold was later to make shipwreck) very nearly in +the title and rather nearly in the contents, but still with a fairly +safe offing. The opposition might be put too bluntly by saying that +“Hellenism” represents to Mr Arnold the love of truth at any price, +and “Hebraism” the love of goodness at any price; but the actual +difference is not far from this, or from those of knowing and doing, +fear of stupidity and fear of sin, &c. We have the quotation from Mr +Carlyle about Socrates being “terribly at ease in Zion,” the +promulgation of the word Renascence for Renaissauce, and so forth. +“Porro unum est necessarium,” a favourite tag of Mr Arnold’s, rather +holds up another side of the same lesson than continues it in a fresh +<a id="page130" name="page130" title="130" class="page"></a>direction; and then “Our Liberal Practitioners” brings it closer to +politics, but (since the immediate subject is the Disestablishment of +the Irish Church) nearer also to the quicksands. Yet Mr Arnold still +keeps away from them; though from what followed it would seem that he +could only have done so by some such <i lang="fr">tour de force</i> as the +famous ”clubhauling“ in <i class="title">Peter Simple</i>. Had <i class="title">Culture and +Anarchy</i> stood by itself, it would have been, though very far from +its author’s masterpiece, an interesting document both in regard to +his own mental history and that of England during the third quarter of +the century, containing some of his best prose, and little, if any, of +his worst sense. +</p> + +<p> +But your crusader—still more your anti-crusader—never stops, and Mr +Arnold was now pledged to this crusade or anti-crusade. In October +1869 he began, still in the <i class="title">Cornhill</i>,—completing it by further +instalments in the same place later in the year, and publishing it in +1870,—the book called <i class="title">St Paul and Protestantism</i>, where he +necessarily exchanges the mixed handling of <i class="title">Culture and Anarchy</i> +for a dead-set at the religious side of his imaginary citadel of +Philistia. The point of at least ostensible connection—of real +departure—is taken from the ”Hebraism and Hellenism“ contrast of the +earlier book; and the same contrast is strongly urged throughout, +especially in the <i lang="it">coda</i>, “A Comment on Christmas.” But this +contrast is gradually shaped into an onslaught on Puritanism, or +rather on its dogmatic side, for its appreciation of “conduct” of +<a id="page131" name="page131" title="131" class="page"></a>morality is ever more and more eulogised. As regards the Church of +England herself, the attack is oblique; in fact, it is disclaimed, and +a sort of a Latitudinarian Union, with the Church for centre, and +dogma left out, is advocated. Another of our Arnoldian friends, the +“Zeit-Geist,” makes his appearance, and it is more than hinted that +one of the most important operations of this spirit is the exploding +of miracles. The book is perfectly serious—its seriousness, indeed, +is quite evidently deliberate and laboured, so that the author does +not even fear to appear dull. But it is still admirably written, as +well as studiously moderate and reverent; no exception can be taken to +it on the score of taste, whatever may be taken on the score of +orthodoxy from the one side, where no doubt the author would hasten to +plead guilty, or on those of logic, history, and the needs of human +nature on the other, where no doubt his “not guilty” would be equally +emphatic. +</p> + +<p> +The case is again altered, and very unfortunately altered, in the +next, the most popular and, as has been said, the most famous of the +series—its zenith at once and its nadir—<i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>. +A very much smaller part of this had appeared in magazine form; +indeed, the contents of <i class="title">St Paul and Protestantism</i> itself must +have seemed odd in that shape, and only strong sympathies on the part +of the editor could have obtained admission for any part of +<i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>. Much of it must have been written amid +the excitement <a id="page132" name="page132" title="132" class="page"></a>of the French-Prussian War, when the English public was +athirst for “skits” of all sorts, and when Mr Arnold himself was “i’ +the vein,” being engaged in the composition of much of the matter of +<i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i>. <i class="title">St Paul and Protestantism</i> had had +two editions in the same year (<i class="title">Culture and Anarchy</i>, a far +better thing, waited six for its second), and altogether the state of +things was such as to invite any author to pursue the triumph and +partake the gale. And he might at first flatter himself that he had +caught the one and made cyclone-use of the other; for the book, +appearing at the end of 1872, with the date of 1873, passed through +three editions in that year, a fourth in 1874, and a fifth two years +later. It was thus by far Mr Arnold’s most popular book; I repeat also +that it is quite his worst. +</p> + +<p> +That it was in hopelessly bad taste here and there—in taste so bad +that Mr Arnold himself later cut out the most famous passage of the +book, to which accordingly we need here only allude—can be denied by +nobody except those persons who hold “good form” to be, as somebody or +other puts it, “an insular British delusion of the fifties and +sixties.” But this excision of his and, I think, some others, besides +the “citations and illustrations” which he confesses to having +excluded from the popular edition, may give us the welcome leave to +deal very briefly with this side of the matter in other respects also. +We may pass over the fun which Mr Arnold had with Archbishop Thomson +<a id="page133" name="page133" title="133" class="page"></a>(who, whatsoe’er the failings on his part, was at any rate a logician) +on the theory of causation; with the University of Cambridge about +<i lang="la">hominum divomque voluptas alma Venus</i> (I have forgotten what was +the bearing of this joke, and it is probably not worth inquiring +into); with the Bishop of Gloucester about the Personality of God; +with the Athanasian Creed, and its “science got ruffled by fighting.” +These things, as “form,” class themselves; one mutters something well +known about <i lang="la">risu inepto</i>, and passes on. Such a tone on such a +subject can only be carried off completely by the gigantic strength of +Swift, though no doubt it is well enough in keeping with the merely +negative and destructive purpose of Voltaire. It would be cruel to +bring <i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i> into competition with <i class="title">A Tale of a +Tub</i>; it would be more than unjust to bring it into comparison with +<i class="title">Le Taureau blanc</i>. And neither comparison is necessary, because +the great fault of <i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i> appears, not when it is +considered as a piece of doubtful or not doubtful taste, but when it +is regarded as a serious composition. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place, the child-like fashion in which Mr Arnold +swallowed the results of that very remarkable “science,” Biblical +criticism, has always struck some readers with astonishment and a kind +of terror. This new La Fontaine asking everybody, “Avez-vous lu +Kuenen?” is a lesson more humbling to the pride of literature than +almost any that can be found. “The prophecy of the details of Peter’s +death,” we are told in <a id="page134" name="page134" title="134" class="page"></a><i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>, “is almost +certainly an addition after the event, <em>because it is not at all in +the manner of Jesus</em>.” Observe that we have absolutely no details, +no evidence of any sort whatever, outside the Gospels for the “manner +of Jesus.” It is not, as in some at least of the more risky exercises +of profane criticism in a similar field, as if we had some absolutely +or almost absolutely authenticated documents, and others to judge by +them. External evidence, except for the mere fact of Christ’s +existence and death, we have none. So you must, by the inner light, +pick and choose out of the very same documents, resting on the very +same authority, what, according to your good pleasure, is “in the +manner of Jesus,” and then black-mark the rest as being not so. Of +course, when Mr Arnold thus wrote, the method had not been pushed +<i lang="la">ad absurdum</i>, as it was later by his friend M. Renan in the +<i class="title">Histoire d’Israël</i>, to the dismay and confusion of no less +intelligent and unorthodox a critic than his other friend, M. Scherer. +But it is more or less the method of all Biblical criticism of this +sort, and Mr Arnold follows it blindly. +</p> + +<p> +Again, the chief bent of the book is to establish that “miracles do +not happen.” Alas! it is Mr Arnold’s unhappy lot that if miracles +<em>do</em> happen his argument confessedly disappears, while even if +miracles do not happen it is, for his purpose, valueless Like almost +all critics of his class recently, especially like Professor Huxley in +another division, he appears not to comprehend what, to the believers +in the supernatural, <a id="page135" name="page135" title="135" class="page"></a>the supernatural means. He applies, as they all +apply, the tests of the natural, and says, “Now really, you know, +these tests are destructive.” He says—he cannot prove—that miracles +do not happen now; his adversaries, if they were wise, would simply +answer, “<i lang="fr">Après?</i>” Do any of them pretend to prescribe to their +God that His methods shall be always the same, or that those methods +shall stand the tests of the laboratory and the School of Charters? +that He shall give “a good title,” like a man who is selling a house? +Some at least would rather not; they would feel appallingly little +interest in a Divinity after this sworn-attorney and +chartered-accountant fashion, who must produce vouchers for all His +acts. And further (to speak with reverence), the Divinity whom they +<em>do</em> worship would be likely to answer Mr Arnold in the words of +a prophet of Mr Arnold’s own— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Du gleichst dem Geist den du begreifst,<br /> + <span style="padding-left: 6em">Nicht Mir!”</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +But this is not all. There is not only begging of the question but +ignoring of the issue. <i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>, to do it strict +justice, is certainly not, in intention at any rate, a destructive +book. It is meant, and meant very seriously, to be constructive—to +provide a substitute for the effete religion of Hooker and Wilson, of +Laud and Pusey, as well as for that of Baxter and Wesley and Mr Miall. +This new religion is to have for its Jachin Literature—that is to +say, a delicate æsthetic appreciation of all that is beautiful in +Christianity and out <a id="page136" name="page136" title="136" class="page"></a>of it; and for its Boaz Conduct—that is to say, +a morality at least as rigid as that of the purest Judaism, though +more amiable. If dogma is to be banished, so is anything like licence; +and in the very book itself Mr Arnold formulated, against his once +(and still partly) beloved France, something like that denunciation of +her worship of Lubricity which he afterwards put more plainly still. +Even Hellenism, the lauded Hellenism, is told to mend its ways (indeed +there was need for it), and the Literature-without-Dogmatist will have +to behave himself with an almost Pharisaic correctness, though in +point of belief he is to be piously Sadducee. +</p> + +<p> +Now this is all very pretty and very creditable, but it will not work. +The goods, to use the vulgar but precise formula of English law, “are +not of the nature and quality demanded by the purchaser.” Nobody wants +a religion of that sort. Conduct is good; poetic appreciation is +perhaps better, though not for the general. But then religion happens +to be something different from either, though no doubt closely +connected with both. Mr Arnold does not exactly offer us a stone for +bread, but he does, like the benevolent French princess in the story, +offer us pie-crust. Pie-crust is a good thing; it is a close +connection of bread; but it will not do for a substitute, and, in +addition, it is much more difficult for the general to obtain. +Moreover, there is a serious, a historical, difficulty about Conduct +<i lang="la">plus</i> poetic appreciation, but <i lang="la">minus</i> what we call +religion. Mr Arnold, in a stately sonnet, has told us that Sophocles +was his <a id="page137" name="page137" title="137" class="page"></a>ideal as a life-philosopher who was also a poet. He knew, +presumably, the stories told about Sophocles in Athenæus, and though +these might be idle scandal, he knew far too much not to be aware that +there is nothing intrinsically impossible about them. It would have +been rather interesting to hear him fully on this subject. But he was +too busy with expatiating on the sweet reasonableness of Jesus and +“the <i lang="de">Aberglaube</i> of the Second Advent” to trouble himself with +awkward matters of this kind at the moment. +</p> + +<p> +It may be suspected, however, that he did trouble himself with them, +or with something like them, afterwards. The book—a deliberate +provocation—naturally found plenty of respondents, though I do not +remember that any one smashed it, as, for instance, Dean Mansel could +have done if he had been alive, or as Cardinal Newman could, had he +been still in the fold. Mr Arnold was perhaps not less really +disquieted by its comparative popularity. For he had quite enough of +Phocion in him to feel, if not to say, that he must have said +something at least ambiguous, when the multitude applauded. At any +rate, though the ill-omened series did not cease, nothing further +appeared in it which showed the tone of <i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>. +Indeed, of the concluding volumes, <i class="title">God and the Bible</i> and +<i class="title">Last Essays on Church and Religion</i>, the first is an elaborate +and rather anxious apology, and the second a collection of diverse and +comparatively “anodyne” essays. It is significant—as showing how much +of the success of <a id="page138" name="page138" title="138" class="page"></a><i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i> had been a success of +scandal—that neither of these volumes enjoyed the least popularity. +<i class="title">God and the Bible</i> was never reprinted till the popular edition +of the series thus far in 1884; and <i class="title">Last Essays</i> was never +reprinted at all, or had not been up to the date of the invaluable +<i class="title">Bibliography</i> of the works. Indeed the copies now, 1899, on sale +appear to be of the first edition. This cool reception does not +discredit either Barbarians or Philistines or Populace. There are good +things in the <i class="title">Last Essays</i> (to which we shall return), but the +general effect of them is that of a man who is withdrawing from a +foray, not exactly beaten, but unsuccessful and disgusted, and is +trying to cover his retreat by alarums and excursions. +</p> + +<p> +<i class="title">God and the Bible</i> tells much the same tale. It originally +appeared by instalments in the <i class="title">Contemporary Review</i>, where it +must have been something of a choke-pear even for the readers of that +then young and thoughtful periodical. Unless the replier has the +vigour of Swift, or at least of Bentley, the adroitness in fence of +Pascal, or at least of Voltaire, “replies, duplies, quadruplies” are +apt to be wofully tedious reading, and Mr Arnold was rather a +<i>veles</i> than a <i>triarius</i> of controversy. He could harass, +but he did not himself stand harassing very well; and here he was not +merely the object of attacks from all sides, but was most uneasily +conscious that, in some cases at least, he did not wish his enemies to +destroy each other. He had absolutely no sympathy with the rabid +anti-Christianity of Clifford, very little <a id="page139" name="page139" title="139" class="page"></a>with the mere agnosticism +of Huxley; he wanted to be allowed to take just so much Biblical +criticism as suited him and no more. He wished to prove, in his own +remarkable way, the truth and necessity of Christianity, and to this +wish the contradictions of sinners were too manifold. One must be +stony-hearted not to feel some pity for him, as, just when he thinks +he has evaded an orthodox brick, the tile of a disbeliever in the +Fourth Gospel whizzes at him; or as, while he is trying to patch up +his romantic reconstructions of imaginary Jewish history and religion, +the push of some aggressive reviewer bids him make good his challenge +to metaphysical theologians. But this interest is only passing. +</p> + +<p> +In the Preface there is indeed some of the old attempt at liveliness. +Professor Clifford himself, then dead, is disposed of with a not +ungraceful mixture of pity and satire; Messrs Moody and Sankey are not +unpleasantly rallied; Satan and Tisiphone, Mr Ruskin and Sir Robert +Phillimore, once more remind one of the groves of Blarney or the more +doubtful chorus in the <i class="title">Anti-Jacobin</i>. But the apologist is not +really light-hearted: he cannot keep the more solemn part of his +apologia out of the Preface itself, and assures us that the story of +Adam’s fall “is all a legend. It never really happened, any of it.” +Again one asks Mr Arnold, as seriously as possible, “How <em>do</em> you +know that? On your own calculus, with your own estimate of evidence, +how is it possible for you to know that? You may, on your principles, +say that you are insufficiently persuaded that it <em>did</em> happen; +<a id="page140" name="page140" title="140" class="page"></a>but how can you, without preternatural revelation (the very thing you +will not admit) say that it did <em>not?</em> Surely there is some want +of intellectual seriousness in thus lightly ignoring every rule of law +and logic, of history and of common-sense?” +</p> + +<p> +But the embarrassment thus revealed naturally shows itself even more +in the book itself, notwithstanding the fact that Mr Arnold expressly +declines to reply to those who have attacked <i class="title">Literature and +Dogma</i> as anti-Christian and irreligious. Not even by summarily +banishing this not inconsiderable host can he face the rest +comfortably: and he has to resort to the strangest reasons of defence, +to the most eccentric invitation of reinforcements from afar. +</p> + +<p> +The strangest of all these, the clearest proof in itself of flurry and +sense of need, is exhibited in his summoning—of all wonderful things—of +Comparative Philology to the rescue of Literature. To rebut the +criticism on his denial of a Personal God, he takes refuge in the +ethnological meaning of Deus, which, it seems, is “Shining.” The poor +plain mind, already staggered by Mr Arnold’s private revelations as to +what did <em>not</em> happen 6000 years ago (or earlier) in the garden +of Eden, quite succumbs before this privilegium of omniscience. One +had thought that the results of philology and etymology of this sort +were extremely ingenious guesses, to be admitted in so far as they do +not conflict with facts, and till the next guess comes, but nothing +more. Lo! they are quoted as if they were on a par with “two and <a id="page141" name="page141" title="141" class="page"></a>two +make four,” or the law of Excluded Middle. We may not take Moses and +the prophets without proof, but Curtius and Professor Max Müller may +speak, and we must but hear. And later, when Mr Arnold is trying to +cope with Descartes, he flies for refuge to “the roots <i>as</i>, <i>bhu</i>, +and <i>sta</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +One is tempted rather to laugh at this; but on some sides it is very +serious. That no God of any religion can be more of a mere hypothesis +than <i>as</i>, <i>bhu</i>, and <i>sta</i>, never seems to have occurred to +Mr Arnold for one moment, nor that he was cutting the throat of his +own argument. We must not, however, fall into his own mistake and +quadruplicate to his duply. It may be sufficient to say that the long +defence of the Fourth Gospel which this book contains is one of the +oddest things in all literature. What, on Mr Arnold’s principles, it +matters whether the Fourth Gospel was written in the first century, +the fourth, or the fourteenth, it is impossible for the poor plain +mind to see. He will not have it as revelation, and as anything else +its date is quite immaterial. +</p> + +<p> +The fact is that this severe censor of “learned pseudo—science mixed +with popular legend,” as he terms theology, appears to have no idea of +the value of evidence whatever. The traditional history of the Bible +is not even to be considered; but a conjectural reconstruction of it +by a Dutch critic, without in the older cases one jot or tittle of +evidence outside the covers of the Bible itself, deserves every +respect, if not reverent acceptance <i lang="fr">en bloc</i>. Miracles are +fictions, <a id="page142" name="page142" title="142" class="page"></a>and the scenes in the garden of Eden and at the Sepulchre +never happened; but <i>as</i>, <i>bhu</i>, and <i>sta</i> are very solemn +facts, and you can find out all about the Divinity, because the word +Deus means (not “has been guessed to mean,” but <em>means</em>) +“Shining.” That Shakespeare knew everything is much more certain than +that miracles do not happen; and he certainly knew Mr Arnold’s case if +not Mr Arnold, when he introduced a certain main episode in <i class="title">A +Midsummer Night’s Dream</i>. To frown on Oberon and caress Bottom is +venial compared with the dismissal of the Bible as popular legend, and +the implicit belief in <i>as</i>, <i>bhu</i>, and <i>sta</i>. +</p> + +<p> +A wilfully hostile historian of Mr Arnold could not dwell too long on +these unfortunate books, for the handles they present are infinite; +but for my part I shall take leave to say little more about them. To +ask, in the common phrase, whether they did any harm would be to beg +the question in their own manner; to ask whether they produced any +effect would lead us too far. They certainly expressed a prevalent +tendency. Most fortunately Mr Arnold was allowed another ten years and +more wherein to escape from the wilderness which yielded these Dead +Sea fruits, and to till his proper garden once more. Yet we have not +quite done with the other fruits themselves. +</p> + +<p> +The actual finale, <i class="title">Last Essays on Church</i> and <i class="title">Religion</i>, +was still less popular, was indeed the least popular of all his works, +seeing that, as has been <a id="page143" name="page143" title="143" class="page"></a>said above, it has never been reprinted. It +is easy to understand this, for it is perhaps the only one of his +books which can be definitely called dull. The apologetic tone +noticeable in <i class="title">God and the Bible</i> continues, but the apology is +illustrated and maintained in an even less attractive manner. The +Preface is perhaps the least dead part of the book; but its line of +argument shares, and perhaps even exaggerates, the controversial +infelicity of this unfortunate series. Mr Arnold deals in it at some +length with the comments of two foreign critics, M. Challemel-Lacour +and Signor de Gubernatis, on <i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>, bringing out +(what surely could have been no news to any but very ill-educated +Englishmen) the fact of their surprise, not at his taking the Bible +with so little seriousness, but at his taking it with any seriousness +at all. And he seems never even to dream of the obvious retort: +“Certainly. These men are at any rate ‘thorough’; they are not +dilettante dalliers between two opinions. They have got far beyond +your half-way house and have arrived at their destination. We have no +desire to arrive at the destination, and therefore, if you will excuse +us, we decline to visit the half-way house.” It is less surprising +that he did not see the force of the objections of another critic, M. +Maurice Vernes, to the equally illogical and unhistorical plan of +arbitrarily selecting this utterance as that of “Jesus,” and another, +given by the same authority, as not that of “Jesus.” A man, who was +sensible of this paralogism, <a id="page144" name="page144" title="144" class="page"></a>could never take Mr Arnold’s views on +Church and Religion at all. +</p> + +<p> +But when we leave the Preface, even such faint liveliness as this +deserts us. The text contains four (or five, the second being divided +into two parts) essays, lectures, or papers, <i class="title">A Psychological +Parallel</i>, <i class="title">Bishop Butler and the Zeit-Geist</i>, <i class="title">The Church of England</i>, +and <i class="title">A Last Word on the Burials Bill</i>. All had appeared in +<i class="title">Macmillan’s Magazine</i> or the <i class="title">Contemporary Review</i> during +1876, while <i class="title">Bishop Butler</i> had been delivered as two lectures at +Edinburgh, and <i class="title">The Church of England</i> as an address to the +London Clergy at Sion College, during the spring of that year. +</p> + +<p> +Over all there is a curious constraint, the evidence of a mood not +very difficult to analyse, and in the analysis of which lies almost +all the satisfaction or edification to be got out of the book. The +writer, though by no means abandoning his own point of view, and even +flattering himself that some <i lang="la">modus vivendi</i> is about to be +established between himself and the more moderate supporters of the +Church and of religion, betrays not merely the well-known +self-excusing and self-accusing tone, but odd flashes of discontent +and weariness—nay, even a fretfulness such as might have been that of +a Moses at Rephidim who could not bring water out of the rock. <i class="title">A +Psychological Parallel</i> is an attempt to buttress the apologia by +referring to Sir Matthew Hale’s views on witchcraft, to Smith, the +Cambridge Platonist and <a id="page145" name="page145" title="145" class="page"></a>Latitudinarian, and to the <i class="title">Book of +Enoch</i> (of which, by the way, it is a pity that Mr Arnold did not +live to see Mr Charles’s excellent translation, since he desiderated a +good one). Of course the argument is sun-clear. If Hale was mistaken +about witchcraft, St Paul may have been mistaken about the +Resurrection. Expressions attributed to Christ occur in the <i class="title">Book of +Enoch</i>, therefore they are not original and divine, &c., &c. And it +would be out of place to attempt any reply to this argument, the reply +being in each case as sun-clear as the argument itself. No believer in +supernatural religion that I ever met considered Sir Matthew Hale to +have been inspired; and no believer in the divinity of Christ can fail +to hold that His adoption of words (if He did adopt them) makes them +His. +</p> + +<p> +The gist of the Butler lectures is considerably less clear, and, if +only for that reason, it cannot be succinctly stated or answered. In +particular, it requires rather careful “collection” in order to +discover what our friend the Zeit-Geist has to do in this galley. I +should imagine that, though an Edinburgh audience is by no means +alarmed at philosophy, the majority, perhaps the enormous majority, of +Mr Arnold’s hearers must have had a singularly dim idea as to his +exact drift. Indeed I cannot say that after reading the piece when it +first appeared, and again, twenty years later, for the purposes of +this book, I have any very distinct notion of that drift myself. If it +merely means that Butler, being an eighteenth-century person, was +afflicted <a id="page146" name="page146" title="146" class="page"></a>with the eighteenth-century limitations by the Zeit-Geist, +eighty-six pages, and an imposing German compound at the head of every +other one of them, seem a good deal for telling us this. If it is a +sort of indirect attack upon—an oblique demurrer to—Butler’s +constructive-aggressive orthodoxy in psychology and religion, one is +bound to say with all politeness, first, that it is a case of <i lang="la">impar +congressus</i>, and secondly, that the adventurous knight does not +give himself a fair chance. It will take more than eighty-six not very +large pages, and a German word at the top of the alternate ones, to do +that! In the opening sketch of Butler himself Mr Arnold could not but +be agreeable and even delightful. It gives us, indeed, most pleasant +promise of work in this same good kind soon to follow; but for the +rest we grope till we find, after some seventy-three of the +eighty-six, that what Mr Arnold wanted to say is that Butler did not +handle, and could not then have handled, miracles and the fulfilment +of prophecy satisfactorily. Butler, like St Paul, is undoubtedly +inconvenient for those who believe that miracles do not happen, and +that prophecies were either not made or not fulfilled. So he must be +got rid of. But whether he is got rid of,—whether Mr Arnold and the +Zeit-Geist have put him on the shelf as a venerable but antiquated +object,—that is another question. +</p> + +<p> +The two remaining essays show us Mr Arnold, in his character of at +least would-be practical statesman, dealing no longer with points of +doctrine but with the affairs <a id="page147" name="page147" title="147" class="page"></a>of the Church as a political body. The +circumstances of the first—the address delivered at Sion College—had +a certain piquancy: whether they had also sweet reasonableness and an +entire accordance with the fitness of things is a question no doubt +capable of being debated. Me the situation strikes, I must confess, as +a little grotesque. The layman in the wide sense, the amateur, always +occupies a rather equivocal position when he addresses experts and the +profession; but his position is never so equivocal as when he doubles +the part of non-expert with that of candid friend. How Mr Arnold +succeeded in this exceedingly delicate attempt I do not propose to +examine at any length. He thought himself that he had “sufficiently +marked the way in which the new world was to be reached.” Paths to new +worlds are always interesting, but in reading, or rather re-reading, +the sailing directions of this Columbus twenty years after date, one +may be a little disappointed. The sum appears to be a somewhat +Tootsian declaration that things of general are of no consequence. The +Church is better than Dissent; at least she would be so if she dropped +all her dogma, the greater part of her superstitions about the rights +of property and “my duty to my neighbour,” and as much as possible of +the barriers which separate her from Dissent itself. A most moderate +eirenicon. Still less need be said of the Burials Bill paper, which is +a sort of appendix or corollary to the Sion speech, at the end of +which the subject had been referred to. The particular question, in +this <a id="page148" name="page148" title="148" class="page"></a>phase of it, has long ceased to burn, and one need not disturb +the ashes. +</p> + +<p> +We must now turn to the incursions of this time into politics, which, +if not much happier, were more amusing. The chief monument of them is +the long unreprinted <i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i>, which has always had +some fervent devotees, and is very characteristic. It so happened that +the period when <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, combined with his Oxford +Lectures, introduced Mr Arnold to the public, was the period of the +first years of the <i class="title">Pall Mall Gazette</i>, when that brilliant +periodical, with the help of many of the original staff of the +<i class="title">Saturday Review</i>, and others, was renewing for the sixties the +sensation of a new kind of journalism, which the <i class="title">Saturday</i> +itself had given to the fifties, while its form and daily appearance +gave it even greater opportunities. As early as the summer of 1866, +during the agitation into which the public mind had been thrown by the +astounding rapidity and thoroughness of the Prussian successes in the +Seven Weeks’ War, Mr Arnold had begun a series of letters, couched in +the style of <i lang="fr">persiflage</i>, which Kinglake had introduced, or +reintroduced, twenty years earlier in <i class="title">Eothen</i>, and which the +<i class="title">Saturday</i> had taken up and widely developed. He also took not a +few hints from Carlyle in <i class="title">Sartor</i> and the <i class="title">Latterday +Pamphlets</i>. And for some years at intervals, with the help of a +troupe of imaginary correspondents and <i>comparses</i>—Arminius von +Thundertentronckh, Adolescens Leo of the <i class="title">Daily Telegraph</i>, the +Bottles <a id="page149" name="page149" title="149" class="page"></a>family of wealthy Dissenters, with cravings for their deceased +wife’s sisters, as well as a large number of more or less celebrated +personages of the day, introduced in their proper persons, and by +their proper names—he instructed England on its own weakness, folly, +and vulgarity, on the wisdom and strength of the Germans, on the +importance of <i lang="de">Geist</i> and ideas, &c., &c. The author brought +himself in by name as a simple inhabitant of Grub Street, victimised, +bullied, or compassionately looked down upon by everybody; and by this +well-known device took licence for pretty familiar treatment of other +people. When the greater crash of 1870 came, and the intelligent +British mind was more puzzled, yet more <i>Prusso-mimic</i>, than +ever, he supplemented these letters, framed or bound them up, as it +were, with a moving account of the death of Arminius before Paris, and +launched the whole as a book. +</p> + +<p> +The letters had been much laughed over; but I do not think the book +was very widely bought—at any rate, its very high price during the +time in which it was out of print shows that no large number was +printed. Perhaps this cold welcome was not altogether so discreditable +to the British public as it would have been, had its sole cause been +the undoubted but unpalatable truths told by the writer. Either, as +some say, because of its thick-hidedness, or, as others, because of +its arrogant self-sufficiency, the British public has never resented +these much. But, in the first place, the thing was a falsetto. Mr +Arnold had plenty of wit <a id="page150" name="page150" title="150" class="page"></a>but not much humour; and after a time one +feels that Bottles and Leo & Co. may be, as Dousterswivel says, “very +witty and comedy,” but that we should not be altogether sorry if they +would <em>go</em>. Further, the direct personalities—the worst +instances concerned Lord Elcho, Mr Frederic Harrison, and the late Mr +Sala—struck, and strike, some people as being not precisely in good +taste. The constant allusions and references to minor and ephemeral +things and persons were not of course then unintelligible, but they +were even then teasing, In all these points, if <i class="title">Friendship’s +Garland</i> be compared, I will once more not say with <i class="title">A Tale of a +Tub</i>, but even with the <i class="title">History of John Bull</i>, its weakness +will come out rather strongly. +</p> + +<p> +But this was not all. It was quite evident—and it was no shame and no +disadvantage to him—that the jester was endeavouring to urge a very +serious earnest behind, and by means of, his jest; that he was no mere +railer, or caviller, or even satirist, but a convinced reformer and +apostle. Yet when we try to get at his programme—at his gospel—there +is no vestige of anything tangible about either. Not very many +impartial persons could possibly accept Mr Arnold’s favourite +doctrine, that the salvation of the people lies in state-provided +middle-class schools; and this was specially difficult in 1871, if +they remembered how some few years before Mr Arnold had been extolling +the state-provided middle-class schools of France. While, for the +rest, a man might be (as many men were) <a id="page151" name="page151" title="151" class="page"></a>thoroughly dissatisfied with +the part England had played abroad in Italy, in the American Civil +War, in Denmark, in the war of 1866, in the war of 1870, and at home +from 1845 onwards, and yet not be able for the life of him to discover +any way of safety in <i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Nor, to take with the <i class="title">Garland</i> for convenience sake <i class="title">Irish +Essays</i>, 1882, the political book which closed this period with the +political book that opened it, do we find things much better, even +long after “the Wilderness” had been mostly left behind. There is +indeed less falsetto and less flippancy; perhaps Mr Arnold had +silently learnt a lesson, perhaps the opportunities of regular essays +in “three-decker” reviews—of a lay sermon to working men, of a speech +at the greatest public school in the world—discouraged the +playfulness which had seemed permissible in addressing a skittish +young evening newspaper. But the unpracticalness—not in the +Philistine but in the strictly scientific sense—is more glaring than +ever, and there are other faults with it. Great part of <i class="title">An +Unregarded Irish Grievance</i> is occupied by a long-drawn-out +comparison of England’s behaviour to Ireland with that of Mr Murdstone +and his friend and manager Quinion to David Copperfield. In the first +place, one thinks wickedly of the gibe in <i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i> +about “Mr Vernon Harcourt developing a system of unsectarian religion +from the life of Mr Pickwick.” In the second, one asks on what +principles of literary art <a id="page152" name="page152" title="152" class="page"></a>a comparison, not wholly improper as a mere +illustration in passing, can be worked to death and turned inside out +and upside down, for some twenty mortal pages. +</p> + +<p> +And so in other places. Yet the worst faults are not in form but in +substance. Minor contradictions do not matter, though in a copy of the +book I have read there is a damaging comparison by some annotator +between Mr Arnold’s description of English Government at p. 4 and his +rosy picture of education under Government at p. 107. This might +happen to anybody, and is not fatal. What is fatal is that this censor +of the “unideaed” has evidently himself no “ideas,” no first +principles, in politics at all. That, play what tricks you will, all +possible politics come round either to the Rule of the One, the Rule +of the Few, or the Rule of the Many, and that the consequences of +these rules, differentiated a little but not materially by historical +and racial characteristics, are as constant as anything commonly +called scientific,—this never seems to have occurred to Mr Arnold at +all. He did not fully appreciate Thackeray, and Thackeray died too +soon to know very much of him. But I have always thought that, for a +criticism of life possessing prophetic genius, the Chevalier Strong’s +wedding congratulations to Arthur Pendennis are almost uncanny as +regards the Matthæan gospel. “Nothing,” said the Chevalier, when he +had established himself as agent to the Duke of Garbanzos, “is so +important to the welfare of the household as <i class="title">Good Sherry</i>.” And +so we find that <a id="page153" name="page153" title="153" class="page"></a>the Irish question, like all others, will be solved by +the substitution of State-governed for private middle-class schools, +by the saturation of England with “ideas,” by all our old friends. +</p> + +<p> +The rest matches. Mr Arnold pooh-poohs the notion that Ireland, except +by force, will never be blended with England; it would be as sensible +to say this “of Scotland, Wales, or Cornwall.” He was not, I think, +dead—he was certainly not dead long—when Wales actually did follow, +less formidably, of course, in the path of Ireland, beginning with the +Church, going on to the Land, and not distantly threatening the State. +As usual he goes to his books. He quotes Goethe—a great man of +letters, but perhaps the most pedantic of great men of letters except +Milton—to prove that “the English are pedants.” He quotes Burke—the +unregenerate Irish Whig Burke, not the prophet whose tongue the French +Revolution had touched as it opened his eyes—to tell us what to do +with Ireland. But the main point in at least one of these essays, +<i class="title">The Incompatibles</i>, is again connected with <i class="title">David +Copperfield</i>. I have said that, from the merely literary point of +view, the perpetual ringing of the changes on Creakle, Murdstone, +Quinion—Quinion, Murdstone, Creakle—is inartistic and irritating. +But from the philosophical and political point of view it is far +worse. No Englishman with any sense of fact ever has taken, or could +take, Dickens’s characters as normal types. They are always fantastic +exaggerations, <a id="page154" name="page154" title="154" class="page"></a>full of genius occasionally, but as unlike actual +reality as those illustrations by Cruikshank which are their nearest +companions in the art of line. Of the three figures selected in +particular, Creakle is a caricature; Murdstone, though not exactly +that, is a repulsive exception; and Quinion is so mere a +<i>comparse</i> or “super” that to base any generalisation on him is +absurd. The dislike of the British public to be “talked book to” may +be healthy or unhealthy; but if it takes no great heed of this kind of +talking book, small blame to it! The same hopeless, not to say the +same wilful, neglect of the practical appears throughout. Mr Arnold +(to his credit be it said) had no great hopes of the Land Bill of +1881. But his own panaceas—a sort of Cadi-court for +“bag-and-baggaging” bad landlords, and the concurrent endowment of +Catholicism—were, at least, no better, and went, if it were possible, +even more in the teeth of history. +</p> + +<p> +It may be worth while (taking the usual chronological licence for the +sake of logical coherence) to say a few words on the other political +and quasi-political pieces reprinted with <i class="title">Irish Essays</i>—the +address to Ipswich working men, <i class="title">Ecce Convertimur ad Gentes</i>, the +Eton speech on <i class="title">Eutrapelia</i>, and the ambitious <i class="title">Future of +Liberalism</i><span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-14" class="link">[14]</a></span> The first is a curious but not very important <a id="page155" name="page155" title="155" class="page"></a>appeal +to the lower class to educate the middle, with episodic praises of +“equality,” “academies,” and the like, as well as glances at a more +extensive system of “municipalisation,” which, not to the satisfaction +of everybody, has come about since. The second contains some admirable +remarks on classical education, some still more admirable protests +against reading about the classics instead of reading the classics, +and the famous discourse on <i class="title">Eutrapelia</i>, with its doctrine that +“conduct is three-fourths of life,” its denunciation of “moral +inadequacy,” and its really great indications of societies dying of +the triumph of Liberalism and Conservatism respectively. A discourse +quite admirable in intention, though if “heckling” had been in order +on that occasion, a sharp youth might have put Mr Arnold in some +difficulty by asking where the canons of “moral adequacy” are written. +</p> + +<p> +But <i class="title">The Future of Liberalism</i>, which the Elizabethans would have +called a “cooling-card” after the Liberal triumph of 1880, exhibits +its author’s political quiddity most clearly. Much that he says is +perfectly true; much of it, whether true or not, is, as Mr Weller +observes, “wery pretty.” But the old mistake recurs of playing on a +phrase <i lang="la">ad nauseam</i>—in this case a phrase of Cobbett’s (one of +the greatest of phrase-makers, but also one of the chief of the +apostles of <a id="page156" name="page156" title="156" class="page"></a>unreason) about “the principles of Pratt, the principles +of Yorke.” It was, of course, a capital <i lang="la">argumentum ad invidiam</i>, +and Mr Arnold frankly adopted it. He compared himself to Cobbett—a +compliment, no doubt; but one which, I fear, Cobbett, who hated +nothing so much as a university man, would not have appreciated. +Cobbett thought of nothing but the agricultural labourer’s “full +belly”—at least this is how he himself put it; and it would have +enforced Mr Arnold’s argument and antithesis had he known or dared to +use it. Mr Arnold thought of nothing but the middle classes’ empty +mind. The two parties, as represented by the rather small Lord Camden +and the rather great Lord Hardwicke, cared for neither of these +things—so “the principles of Pratt, the principles of Yorke” comes in +as a refrain. To the average Briton quotation is no more argument +than, on higher authority, is blank verse. Still it might do for +ornament, if not for argument,—might help the lesson and point it at +least. So we turn to the lesson itself. This “Liberal of the future,” +as Mr Arnold styles himself, begins, with orthodoxy if not with +philosophy, by warning the Tories off entirely. “They cannot really +profit the nation, or give it what it needs.” Perhaps; but suppose we +ask for a little reason, just a ghost of a premiss or two for this +extensive conclusion? There is no voice, neither any that answers. And +then, the Tories dismissed with a wave to all but temporary oblivion +(they are to be allowed, it seems, to appear from time to time to +chasten Liberalism), our <a id="page157" name="page157" title="157" class="page"></a>prophet turns to Liberalism itself. It ought +to promote “the humanisation of man in society,” and it doesn’t +promote this. Ah! what a blessed word is “humanisation,” the very +equivalent, in syllables as in blessedness, of “Mesopotamia”! But when +for the considerable rest of the essay we try to find out what +humanisation <em>is</em>, why we find nothing but the old negative +impalpable gospel, that we must “<em>dis</em>materialise our upper +class, <em>dis</em>vulgarise our middle class, <em>dis</em>brutalise our +lower class.” “Om-m-ject and sum-m-m-ject!” “om-m-ject and +sum-m-m-ject,” in short, as that famous flash of Thomas Carlyle’s +genius discovered and summarised Coleridge, and with Coleridge the +whole nineteenth century. A screed of jargon—a patter of shibboleth—and +that is all. Never a thought for this momentous question—“May you +not possibly—indeed most probably—in attempting to remove what you +choose to consider as the defects of these classes, remove also what +you acknowledge to be their virtues—the governing faculty of the +upper class, the conduct and moral health of the middle, the force and +vigour of the lower?” A momentous question indeed, and one which, as +some think, has <em>got</em> something of an answer since, and no +comfortable one! +</p> + +<p> +I must apologise, and I do, for anything that may appear too polemical +in this chapter. But the circumstances of the case made it almost as +impossible, as it would have been uninteresting, to be merely +recitative and colourless; and Mr Arnold’s own example <a id="page158" name="page158" title="158" class="page"></a>gives ample +licence. In particular, any one who has had actual and close knowledge +of the actual progress of politics for many years may be pardoned for +speaking with some decision on the practice of sitting at ease in +Zion, and raying out curious observations on Barbarians and Eutrapelia +and the character of Mr Quinion. We may have too little of such things +in English politics—no doubt for a good many years before Mr Arnold’s +day we <em>had</em> too little of them. But too much, though a not +unpopular, is a very clumsy and very unscientific antidote to too +little; and in Mr Arnold’s own handling of politics, I venture to +think that there was too much of them by a very great deal. +</p> + +<p> +It is very pleasant to turn from the literary results of this period, +from the spectacle of Pegasus +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Stumbling in miry roads of alien art,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +and harnessing himself to all manner of unsuitable vehicles, to the +private history of the decade. This, though sadly chequered by Mr +Arnold’s first domestic troubles, was on the whole prosperous, was +somewhat less laborious than the earlier years, and was lightened by +ever more of the social and public distractions, which no man entirely +dislikes, and which—to a certain extent and in a certain way—Mr +Arnold did not dislike at all. The changes of occupation and of +literary aim by the termination of the professorship coincided, as +such things have a habit of <a id="page159" name="page159" title="159" class="page"></a>doing, with changes in place and +circumstance. The Chester Square house grew too small for the +children, and a move to Harrow was first meditated and then achieved. +A very pleasant letter to his mother, in November 1867, tells how he +was present at the farewell dinner to Dickens on his departure for +America, how they wanted him (vainly) to come to the high table and +speak, and how Lord Lytton finally brought him into his own speech. He +adds that some one has given him “a magnificent box of four hundred +Manilla cheroots” (he must surely have counted wrong, for they usually +make these things in two-hundred-and-fifties or five-hundreds), +welcome to hand on, though he did not smoke himself. In another he +expresses the evangelical desire to “do Mr Swinburne some good.” +</p> + +<p> +But in January 1868 his baby-child Basil died; and the intense family +affection, which was one of his strongest characteristics, suffered of +course cruelly, as is recorded in a series of touching letters to his +sister and mother. He fell and hurt himself at Cannon Street, too, but +was comforted by his sister with a leading case about an illiterate +man who fell into a reservoir through not reading a notice. The Harrow +house became a reality at Lady Day, and at Midsummer he went to stay +at Panshanger, and “heard the word ‘Philistine’ used a hundred times +during dinner and ‘Barbarian’ nearly as often” (it must be remembered +that the “Culture and Anarchy” articles <a id="page160" name="page160" title="160" class="page"></a>were coming out now). This +half-childish delight in such matters (like Mr Pendennis’s “It’s all +in the papers, and my name too!”) is one of the most fascinating +things about him, and one of not a few, proving that, if there was +some affectation, there was no dissimulation in his nature. Too many +men, I fear, would have said nothing about them, or assumed a lofty +disdain. In September he mentions to Mr Grant Duff a plan (which one +only wishes he had carried out, letting all the “Dogma” series go +<span title="kat ouron" class="greek" lang="el">κατ᾽ οὖρον</span> as it deserved) for “a sketch of Greek poetry, +illustrated by extracts in harmonious prose.” This would have been one +of the few great literary histories of the world, and so Apollo kept +it in his own lap. The winter repeated, far more heavily, the domestic +blow of the spring, and Tom, his eldest son, who had always been +delicate, died, aged sixteen only, at Harrow, where since the removal +he had been at school. There is something about this in the +<i class="title">Letters</i>; but on the great principle of <i lang="la">curæ leves</i>, less, +as we should expect, than about the baby’s death. +</p> + +<p> +In February next year Mr Arnold’s double repute, as a practical and +official “educationist” and as a man of letters, brought him the offer +of the care of Prince Thomas of Savoy, son of the Duke of Genoa, and +grandson of Victor Emmanuel, who was to attend Harrow School and board +with the Arnolds. The charge, though honourable and, I suppose, +profitable, <a id="page161" name="page161" title="161" class="page"></a>might not have been entirely to the taste of everybody; +but it seemed to Mr Arnold a new link with the Continent, and he +welcomed it. The same year saw a visit to Knebworth, and a very +interesting and by no means unsound criticism on that important event +in the life of a poet, the issue of the first collected edition of his +poems.<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-15" class="link">[15]</a></span> This was in two volumes, and is now rather precious. “It +might be fairly urged that I have less poetic sentiment than Tennyson, +and less intellectual vigour and abundance than Browning; yet because +I have perhaps more of a fusion of the two than either of them, and +have more regularly applied that fusion to the main line of modern +development, I am likely enough to have <a id="page162" name="page162" title="162" class="page"></a>my turn.” One can only query +whether poetry has anything to do with “modern development,” and +desiderate the addition to “sentiment” of “art.” He seems to imply +that Mr Gladstone personally prevented his appointment to a +commissionership under the Endowed Schools Act. But the year ended +with a complimentary reference from Mr Disraeli at Latimers about +“Sweetness and Light.” +</p> + +<p> +In February 1870 the famous Persian cat Atossa (now in the most +comfortable lap of all the gods or goddesses, with Hodge and Bona +Marietta and Hinse of Hinsfeldt) makes her first appearance; and in +June Mr Arnold received the Oxford D.C.L. He set it down to “a young +and original sort of man, Lord Salisbury, being Chancellor”; and Lord +Salisbury himself afterwards told him that “no doubt he ought to have +addressed him as ‘vir dulcissime et lucidissime.’” But though he was +much pleased by his reception, he thought Lord Salisbury “dangerous,” +as being unliterary, and only scientific and religious in his tastes. +</p> + +<p> +In December he had an amusing and (as it ended well) not +unsatisfactory experience of the ways of Income Tax Commissioners. +These gentlemen acted on even vaguer principles than those on which +they once assessed a poor dramatic amateur, who had by accident +received £6 “author’s rights” for a week, at £300 per +annum, on the sound arithmetical argument that there are fifty +(indeed, there are fifty-two) weeks in a year, and that fifty times +six is three hundred. They <a id="page163" name="page163" title="163" class="page"></a>put Mr Arnold’s literary profits at £1000, +and he had to expostulate in person before they would let him down to +£200, though he pathetically explained that “he should have to write +more articles than he ever had done” to prevent his being a loser even +at that. About the catastrophe of the <i class="title">Année Terrible</i>, his craze +for “righteousness” makes him a very little Pecksniffian—one thinks +of the Tower of Siloam. But it is pleasant to hear that, early in +1871, they are arranging for him “a perfect district, Westminster and +a small rural part near Harrow.” So one hopes that the days of posting +from shire to shire and subsisting on buns were over. He is interested +about Deutsch (the comet of a season for his famous Talmud articles), +receives the Commandership of the Crown of Italy for his services to +Prince Thomas, and is proposed for the Middlesex magistracy, but (to +one’s sorrow) declines. There is fishing at Chenies (<i lang="la">vide</i> an +admirable essay of Mr Froude’s) in the early summer, a visit to +Switzerland in the later, and in September “the pigs are grown very +large and handsome, and experts advise their conversion into bacon.” +But Mrs Arnold “does not like the idea.” Indeed this is the drawback +of pig-keeping, which is otherwise a most fascinating pastime; but you +can escape it, and unite pleasure with profit, by merely breeding the +pigs and selling the litters young. +</p> + +<p> +After this respite fate was again cruel. On February 16, 1872, Mr +Arnold’s second son died at Harrow, and again the reception of the +blow and its effect are <a id="page164" name="page164" title="164" class="page"></a>marked by lesser voicefulness in the grief. +Yet one phrase, “I cannot write his name without stopping to look at +it in stupefaction at his not being alive,” is equal to volumes. The +letters of this year are few, but in September begins a correspondence +of some interest and duration with a French pastor, M. Fontanès. Nor +does 1873 give much except description of a tour to Italy, while in +May the Arnolds moved from Harrow, with its painful memories, to +Cobham, which was Mr Arnold’s home for the rest of his life. In +September he “shoots worse than ever” (<i lang="la">vide</i> <i class="title">Friendship’s +Garland</i>) in the famous preserves of Six Mile Bottom, and soon +after his mother dies. But it is not given to all men not to be +motherless till they themselves are fifty. And 1874 is again rather +barren, even such yield as it gives being rather didactic and +controversial, as for instance in a letter to his sister, who had +apparently remonstrated with some vigour against the tone of +<i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>. A pleasant letter to Miss Kingsley on her +father’s death (1875) puts in good evidence against the charge of +grudging appreciation of contemporaries which has often been brought +against Mr Arnold, and which some unguarded expressions, rather +injudiciously published in other letters, may seem to confirm. +</p> + +<p> +Another in December contains an instance<span class="fn-marker"><a href="#fn-16" class="link">[16]</a></span> of that dislike <a id="page165" name="page165" title="165" class="page"></a>to +history, which long before its publication careful students of his +works had always noticed in him. The fact is, that to a man of ideas, +as Mr Arnold would have liked to be called—a man of theories or of +crotchets, as in extending order of unkindness people actually did +call him—history must be an annoying study. The things that ought to +happen do not happen, and the things that do happen have to be +awkwardly explained away or hazardously ignored His almost pettish +disgust for the historic estimate in literature itself may have either +caused or been caused by this more general dislike, and the dislike +itself explains the leniency with which he always regarded the sheer +guess-work of the Biblical critics. But it is possible to sympathise +with his disapproval of the divorce of History and Law, which used to +be united in the Oxford schools. Together they made a discipline, +inferior indeed, but only inferior, to that of the great school of +<i lang="la">Literæ Humaniores</i>, the best intellectual training in the world. +When they are divided, it may be feared that law becomes a mere +technicality, if not a mere bread-study, and that history is at once +thin and vague. +</p> + +<p> +But Clio must have made interest with Nemesis; for, but a page or two +afterwards, this disregard of history leads Mr Arnold into a very odd +blunder. His French friend, M. Fontanès, had thought of writing about +<a id="page166" name="page166" title="166" class="page"></a>Godwin, but Mr Arnold dissuades him. “Godwin,” he says, “est +intéressant, mais il n’est pas une source; des courants actuels qui +nous portent, aucun ne vient de lui.” Godwin is the high priest of +Anarchism; he is our first Socialist philosopher, he advocated no +marriage, woman’s rights, the abolition of religion. And <i lang="fr">dans nos +courants actuels rien ne vient de lui!</i> This was early in 1876, and +later in the same year we have from him the singular judgment that +George Sand, just dead, was “the greatest spirit in our European world +from the time that Goethe departed.” The chronicle may be +appropriately closed for the time by mentioning that in the spring of +1877 Mr Arnold was approached with a view to his standing once more +for the Poetry Chair, and declined. The invitation, however, was a +sort of summons to him to go back to his proper work, and in effect, +though doubtless not in intention, he had already obeyed it. “A French +Critic on Milton,” published in January 1877, is the first literary +article of any importance that his bibliography records for the whole +decade which we have surveyed in this chapter. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Note</i>.—It is particularly unlucky that the <i class="title">Prose +Passages</i>, which the author selected from his works and published +in 1879, did not appear later. It is almost sufficient to say that +less than one-fourth of their contents is devoted to literature, all +the rest to the “Dead Sea fruit.” I have therefore said nothing about +the book in the text. It is, however, a useful though incomplete and +one-sided chrestomathy of Mr Arnold’s style from the formal point of +view, illustrating both his minor devices of phrase and the ingenious +<i lang="fr">ordonnance</i> of his paragraphs in building up thought and +statement. +</p> + + + + +<h2><a id="page167" name="page167" title="167" class="page"></a><a id="v" name="v">Chapter V.</a></h2> + + +<h3>The Last Decade.</h3> + +<p> +It would be unhistorical to assert, and unphilosophical to assume, +that in the change or reversion noted at the end of the last chapter, +Mr Arnold had any consciousness of relinquishment, still more to hint +any definite sense of failure on his part. He would probably have said +(if any one had been impertinent enough to ask, and he had +condescended to reply) that he had said his say, had shot his bolt, +and might leave them to produce their effect. But that there was, if +no repentance, a certain disgust, I cannot but believe. He must have +seen—he almost acknowledges that he saw—that the work which he at +least thought was conservative was being utilised by others in a +purely destructive spirit; he must have found himself in very +unwelcome alliances; and (which is worst of all to a delicate and +sensitive spirit) he must constantly have found fools dotting his +<i>i</i>’s and emphasising his innuendoes in their own clumsy and +Philistine fashion. At any rate, it is purely historical to say that +he did <a id="page168" name="page168" title="168" class="page"></a>henceforward almost entirely change his main line of operation +as to religious matters, and that though, as has been shown, he +persisted, not too fortunately, in politics, his method of discussion +in that likewise was altered. As we heard no more of the three Lord +Shaftesburys, so Bottles and his unwelcome society were permitted to +remain unchronicled. In the latter department seriousness came upon Mr +Arnold; in the former, if not a total, yet a general and certainly +most welcome silence. +</p> + +<p> +Most welcome: for he was voiceful enough on other and his proper +subjects. “Falkland,” which followed “A French Critic on Milton,” in +March in the <i class="title">Fortnightly</i>, and “George Sand,” which followed it, +as has been said, in June in the <i class="title">Nineteenth Century</i>, somewhat +deserved the title (<i class="title">Mixed Essays</i>) of the volume in which they +were two years later reprinted. But the last essay of the year 1877, +that on Mr Stopford Brooke’s <i class="title">Primer</i>, was, like the “French +Critic,” and even more than that, pure literature. “A French Critic on +Goethe,” which appeared in the <i class="title">Quarterly Review</i> for January +1878, followed next. The other pieces of this year, which also, with +one exception, appeared in <i class="title">Mixed Essays</i>, were, with that +exception, evidences of a slight but venial relapse, or let us say of +convalescence not yet quite turned into health. “Equality” +(<i class="title">Fortnightly</i>, March 1878), “Irish Catholicism and British +Liberalism” (<i class="title">Fortnightly</i>, July 1878), and “Porro Unum est +Necessarium” (<i class="title">Fortnightly</i>, November 1878), were, if not of “the +<a id="page169" name="page169" title="169" class="page"></a>utmost last provincial band,” yet not of the pure Quirites, the +genuine citizens of the sacred city of Mr Arnold’s thought: and he +seceded from this latter in not a few of those estimable but +unimportant Irish essays which have been noticed in the last chapter. +</p> + +<p> +But the literary contents of <i class="title">Mixed Essays</i> are very interesting, +and the Johnson paper (really a preface to the six selected lives, +which he edited for Messrs Macmillan in 1878) is a most excellent +piece of work. His selection of the Lives is perhaps not quite +unerring. For he ought surely to have given the “Cowley,” with its +(from his own point of view) invaluable <i lang="fr">point de repère</i> in the +estimate of the “metaphysicals.” And he might have missed the “Swift,” +which, though extremely interesting as a personal study from its +mixture of prejudice and constraint, its willingness to wound, and +yet—not its fear but—its honest compunction at striking, is, for the +purpose of the volume, misplaced. But he had a right to give what he +chose: and his preface has points of the very highest value. The +opening passage about the <i lang="fr">point de repère</i> itself, the fixed +halting-place to which we can always resort for fresh starts, fresh +calculations, is one of the great critical <i lang="la">loci</i> of the world, +and especially involves the main contribution of the nineteenth +century to criticism if not to literature altogether. We may exalt, +without very much doubt or dread, the positive achievements of the +century of Tennyson and Browning, of Carlyle and Thackeray, of Heine +and Hugo. But we have seen such strange <a id="page170" name="page170" title="170" class="page"></a>revolutions in this respect +that it may not do to be too confident. The glory of which no man can +deprive our poor dying <i lang="fr">siècle</i> is that not one, of all the +others since history began, has taken such pains to understand those +before it, has, in other words, so discovered and so utilised the +value of <i lang="fr">points de repère</i>. It may be that this value is, except +in the rarest cases, all that a critic can ever pretend to—that he +may be happy if, as few do, he reaches this. But in the formulation of +the idea (for he did much more than merely borrow it from the French) +Mr Arnold showed his genius, his faculty of putting +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “What oft was thought but ne’er so well expressed.” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p> +And when a man does this in prose or in verse, in criticism or in +creation, he has his reward—a reward that no man can take away, even +if any one were disposed to try. +</p> + +<p> +As a whole, <i class="title">Mixed Essays</i> itself, which followed <i class="title">Last Essays +on Church and Religion</i> at an interval of two years, is an almost +immeasurably livelier book than its predecessor, and to some judgments +at least seems to excel that predecessor in solid value as much as in +the graces. “Mixed” is perhaps not a strictly accurate title, for the +volume consists of two halves, the contents of each of which are +homogeneous enough, but which have next to nothing to do with each +other. But even in the non-literary essays we are out of “The +Wilderness” in its worst sense. Most of the essays had, as has <a id="page171" name="page171" title="171" class="page"></a>just +been shown, appeared in different periodicals, while “Equality” was +also delivered as a lecture during the years 1877 and 1878. The +exception was the paper called “Democracy,” which he reprinted from +his first work on Foreign Schools in 1861, where it had appeared as an +Introduction. The juxtaposition is by no means uninteresting or +uninstructive, though perhaps it is not entirely favourable to the +idea of Mr Arnold’s development as a <i lang="el">zoon politicon</i>. It has +been said before that his earliest political writing is a good deal +less fantastic and more sane than that of his middle period, and +though “the last of life for which the first was made” was now +restoring to him much of his power in this direction, yet he was +always much joined to idols in matters political. In grasp “Democracy” +does not quite come up to its rather ambitious title; and a moment’s +thought will show why. In 1861 Democracy was a very academic subject. +All projects for further Parliamentary Reform had failed utterly in +England; and nobody dreamt of what the next five or six years would +bring. In France there was what looked like a crushing military +despotism: in other Continental countries the repression which had +followed the outbreaks of 1848-49 was only just being relaxed, or not +relaxed at all. American democracy had not had its second baptism of +Civil War. The favourite fancies about the respective <i lang="el">ethos</i> of +aristocracy, of the middle-class, and of the lower do indeed appear, +but for the most part Mr Arnold confines himself to the simple +question of State interference, <a id="page172" name="page172" title="172" class="page"></a>for which in his own subject of +education he was so anxious, and which he would gladly have seen +extended. It has been more than once remarked already that he may +justly be regarded as a politician of more seriousness than he has +here been represented as possessing, if espousing the cause of the +things which actually happen is taken as the criterion. For State +interference has grown and is growing every day. But then it may be +held—and as a matter of principle he would not himself have contested +it—that a man’s politics should be directed, not by what he thinks +will happen, but by what he thinks ought to happen. And some of us, +while not in love by any means with the middle-class Liberal ideas of +1830-1860, think that the saving grace of that day that is dead was +precisely its objection to State interference. +</p> + +<p> +“Equality,” which follows, and which starts what might be called at +the time of the book its contemporary interest, is much more +far-reaching and of greater curiosity; indeed, it may perhaps be held +to be the most curious, in a certain sense, of all its author’s +writings, and to give, in a not fully satisfactory but suggestive +fashion, a key to his complex character which is supplied by no other +of his essays. That there was (in no silly or derogatory sense of an +often absurdly used word) a slightly un-English side to that +character, few acute judges would deny. But its results, in the +greater part of the works, are so diffused, and, as it <a id="page173" name="page173" title="173" class="page"></a>were, +subterranean, that they are difficult to extract and concentrate. Here +we seem to get the spirit much nearer proof. For the Equality which Mr +Arnold here champions is not English but French equality; not +political and judicial equality before the law, but social equality +enforced by the law. He himself admits, and perhaps even a little +exaggerates, his attitude of <i lang="la">Athanasius contra mundum</i> in this +respect, amassing with relish expressions, in the sense opposite to +his own, from such representative and yet essentially diverse +authorities as Lord Beaconsfield, Mr Gladstone, Sir Erskine May, Mr +Froude, and Mr Lowe. Against them he arrays Menander and George Sand—a +counter-championship not itself suggestive of Equality. This may be +“only his fun”—a famous utterance which it is never more necessary to +keep in mind than when speaking or writing of Mr Arnold, for his fun, +such as it was, was pervading, and occasionally rather cryptic. But +the bulk of the paper is perfectly serious. Social equality, and its +compulsory establishment by a law against free bequest or by public +opinion, these are his themes. He asserts that the Continent is in +favour of them; that the English colonies, <i lang="fr">ci-devant</i> and +actual, are in favour of them; that the Greeks were in favour of them; +that the Bible is in favour of them. He cites Mr Hamerton as to the +virtues of the French peasant. He renews his old tilt at the manners +of the English lower-middle class, at Messrs Moody and Sankey, at the +great “Jingo” song of twenty <a id="page174" name="page174" title="174" class="page"></a>years ago (as to which, by the way, a +modern Fletcher of Saltoun might have something to say to-day), at the +Puritans, at Mr Goldwin Smith, at many things and many persons. +</p> + +<p> +I feel that history has given me at the moment rather an unfair +advantage over Mr Arnold here. One could always pick plenty of holes +in “Equality,” could suggest that the Greeks did not make such a very +good thing of it with their equality (which included slavery); that +the Biblical point is far from past argument; that M. Zola, for +instance, supplies an interesting commentary on Mr Hamerton’s +rose-coloured pictures of the French peasantry; that whatever Mr +Arnold’s own lot may have been, others who have lived in small French +towns with the <i lang="fr">commis voyageur</i> have not found his manners so +greatly superior to those of the English bagman. But just at this +moment, and, in fact, in an increasing degree ever since Mr Arnold +wrote, the glorification of France has become difficult or impossible. +Sir Erskine May, it seems, had warned him in vain about the political +effect of French Equality even at that time: but one need not confine +oneself to politics. At the end of the nineteenth century France has +enjoyed the blessings of social equality, enforced by compulsory +division of estates, for a hundred years and more. Perhaps equality +has nothing to do with the decadence of her literature, with that +state of morals which Mr Arnold himself deplored with almost Puritan +emphasis, with the state of religion which he holds up <a id="page175" name="page175" title="175" class="page"></a>as an awful +example, fit to warn England to flee to the refuge of his own +undogmatic <i lang="el">Nephelococcygia</i>, with the ineffable scandals of +Panama and the Dreyfus case, with the mixture of blind illucidity and +febrile passion which characterises the French press. Only, what is +left? Where are the improvements due to this great influence? They +are, according to Mr Arnold, in the amiable dignity of the French +peasant and the polished refinement of the French middle-class. +Frankly, one may prefer Hodge and Bottles. +</p> + +<p> +“Irish Catholicism and British Liberalism” has less actuality, and, +moreover, it belongs to a group of which enough has been said in +reference to the <i class="title">Irish Essays</i>. But “Porro Unum est Necessarium” +possesses not merely an accidental but a real claim to fresh +attention, not merely at the moment when there is at last some chance +of the dream of Mr Arnold’s life, the interference of the State in +English secondary education, being realised, but because it is one of +the expressions of that dream which was in his life so important. It +consists partly of statistics and partly of a moan over the fact that, +in the heat and heyday of Mr Gladstone’s <i lang="fr">levée en masse</i> against +the Tory Government of 1874-80, the Liberal programme contained +nothing about this darling object. And the superiority of France is +trotted out again; but it would be cruel to insist any more. Yet at +last Mr Arnold becomes practical, and contends for pretty much the +substance of present Secondary Education Reform schemes—limited +inspection, qualification <a id="page176" name="page176" title="176" class="page"></a>of masters, leaving certificates, &c. “It do +not over-stimulate,” to quote an author to whom Mr Arnold was shortly +to devote much attention; but we leave the political or semi-political +batch in considerably greater charity with the author than his prose +volumes for years past had rendered possible. +</p> + +<p> +No reserves, no allowances of the least importance are necessary in +dealing with the rest of the volume. I do not think it fanciful to +discern a sort of involuntary or rather unconscious “Ouf!” of relief +in the first, the “Guide to English Literature,” on the subject, as +has been said, of Mr Stopford Brooke’s always excellent and then novel +<i class="title">Primer</i>. A tribute to duty is, indeed, paid at starting: we are +told sternly that we must not laugh (as it is to be feared too many of +us did and do) at the famous boast of the French Minister, as to all +the boys in France learning the same lesson at the same hour. For this +was the result of State interference: and all the works of State +interference are blessing and blessed. But, this due rite paid, Mr +Arnold gives himself up to enjoyment, laudation, and a few +good-natured and, for the most part, extremely judicious proposals for +making the good better still. Even if this last characteristic were +not present, it would be unjust to call the article a puff. Besides, +are puffs so wholly bad? A man may be not very fond of sweets, and yet +think a good puff now and then, a puff with its three corners just hot +from the oven, full of jam, light, artistically frothed, to be a very +pleasing thing. And, as I have said, Mr Arnold’s <a id="page177" name="page177" title="177" class="page"></a>review is much more +than a puff. Once, indeed, there is even a hypercriticism, due to that +slight want of familiarity with literary history proper which has been +noticed more than once. Mr Arnold finds fault with Mr Brooke for +adopting, as one of his chapter divisions, “from the Restoration to +George III.” He objects to this that “George III. has nothing to do +with literature,” and suggests “to the Death of Pope and Swift.” This +is a curious mistake, of a kind which lesser critics have often +repeated. Perhaps George III. <em>had</em> nothing to do with +literature; but his accession immediately preceded, and may even, as +the beginning of a pure English <i lang="fr">régime</i>, have done something to +produce, numerous appearances of the Romantic revival—Percy’s +<i class="title">Reliques</i>, Hurd’s <i class="title">Essays</i>, Macpherson’s <i class="title">Ossian</i>, The +<i class="title">Castle of Otranto</i>, and others. The deaths of Pope and Swift have +no such synchronism. They mark, indeed, the disappearance of the +strongest men of the old school, but not the appearance of even the +weakest and most infantine of the new. Still this, though interesting +in itself, is a trifle, and the whole paper, short as it is, is a sort +of <i class="title">Nunc Dimittis</i> in a new sense, a hymn of praise for +dismissal, not from but to work—to the singer’s proper function, from +which he has been long divorced. +</p> + +<p> +“Falkland,” which follows, is less purely literary, but yet closely +connected with literature. One thinks with some ruth of its original +text, which was a discourse on Falkland by that modern Lucius Gary, +the late Lord Carnarvon—the most curious and pathetic instance of <a id="page178" name="page178" title="178" class="page"></a>a +man of the nineteenth century speaking of one who was almost his exact +prototype, in virtues and graces as in weaknesses and disabilities of +temperament, during the seventeenth. It would, of course, have been +indecent for Mr Arnold to bring this parallel out, writing as he did +in his own name and at the moment, and I do not find any reference to +it in the <i class="title">Letters</i>; but I can remember how strongly it was felt +at the time. His own interest in Falkland as the martyr of Sweetness +and Light, of lucidity of mind and largeness of temper, was most +natural, and its sources most obvious. It would be cruel, and is quite +unnecessary, to insist on the too certain fact that, in this instance +at any rate, these excellent qualities were accompanied by a distinct +weakness of will, by a mania for sitting between two stools, and by +that—it may be lovable, it may be even estimable—incapacity to +think, to speak, to behave like a man of this world, which besets the +conscientious idealist who is not a fanatic. On the contrary, let us +not grudge Mr Arnold a hero so congenial to himself, and so little +repulsive to any of us. He could not have had a better subject; nor +can Falkland ever hope for a <i lang="la">vates</i> better consecrated, by +taste, temper, and ability, to sing his praises. +</p> + +<p> +Then we are back again in pure literature, with the two notable +<i class="title">Quarterly</i> articles, already glanced at, on M. Scherer as “A +French Critic on Milton” and “A French Critic on Goethe.” There was a +very strong sympathy, creditable to both, between the two. M. Scherer +went <a id="page179" name="page179" title="179" class="page"></a>further than Mr Arnold in the negative character of his views on +religion; but they agreed as to dogma. His literary criticism was +somewhat harder and drier than Mr Arnold’s; but the two agreed in +acuteness, lucidity, and a wide, if not quite a thoroughgoing, use of +the comparative method. Both were absolutely at one in their +uncompromising exaltation of “conduct.” So that Mr Arnold was writing +quite <i lang="it">con amore</i> when he took up his pen to recommend M. Scherer +to the British public, which mostly knew him not at that time. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not begin directly with his main subject. He had always, as +we have seen, had a particular grudge at Macaulay, who indeed +represented in many ways the tendencies which Mr Arnold was born to +oppose. Now just at this time certain younger critics, while by no +means championing Macaulay generally, had raised pretty loud and +repeated protests against Mr Arnold’s exaggerated depreciation of the +<i class="title">Lays</i> as “pinchbeck”; and I am rather disposed to think that he +took this opportunity for a sort of sally in flank. He fastens on one +of Macaulay’s weakest points, a point the weakness of which was +admitted by Macaulay himself—the “gaudily and ungracefully +ornamented” (as its author calls it) <i class="title">Essay on Milton</i>. And he +points out, with truth enough, that its “gaudy and ungraceful +ornament” is by no means its only fault—that it is bad as criticism, +that it shows no clear grasp of Milton’s real merits, that it ignores +his faults, that it attributes to him qualities which were the very +reverse of his <a id="page180" name="page180" title="180" class="page"></a>real qualities. He next deals slighter but still +telling blows at Addison, defends Johnson, in passing, as only +negatively deficient in the necessary qualifications, not positively +conventional like Addison, or rhetorical like Macaulay, and then with +a turn, itself excellently rhetorical in the good sense, passes to M. +Scherer’s own dealings with the subject. Thenceforward he rather +effaces himself, and chiefly abstracts and summarises the “French +Critic’s” deliverances, laying special stress on the encomiums given +to Milton’s style. The piece is one of his most artfully constructed; +and I do not anywhere know a better example of ingenious and +attractive introduction of a friend, as we may call it, to a new +society. +</p> + +<p> +The method is not very different in “A French Critic on Goethe,” +though Carlyle, the English “awful example” selected for contrast, is +less maltreated than Macaulay, and shares the disadvantageous part +with Lewes, and with divers German critics. On the whole, this essay, +good as it is, seems to me less effective than the other; perhaps +because Mr Arnold is in less accord with his author, and even seems to +be in two minds about that author’s subject—about Goethe himself. +Earlier, as we have partly seen, he had, both in prose and in verse, +spoken with praise—for him altogether extraordinary, if not +positively extravagant—of Goethe; he now seems a little doubtful, and +asks rather wistfully for “the just judgment of forty years,” the calm +revised estimate of the Age of Wisdom. But M. Scherer’s estimate is in +<a id="page181" name="page181" title="181" class="page"></a>parts lower than he can bring himself to admit; and this turns the +final passages of the essay into a rather unsatisfactory chain of “I +agree with this,” “I do not agree with that.” But the paper retains +the great merit which has been assigned to its predecessor as a piece +of ushering; and that, we must remember, was what it was designed to +be. +</p> + +<p> +In “George Sand,” which completes the volume, we have Mr Arnold no +longer as harbinger of another, but in the character, in which after +all he is most welcome, of speaker on his own account. His estimate of +this prolific <i lang="fr">amuseuse</i> will probably in the long-run seem +excessive to the majority of catholic and comparative critics; nor is +it at all difficult to account for the excess. Mr Arnold belonged +exactly to the generation to which in England, even more than in +France, George Sand came as a soothing and sympathetic exponent of +personal sorrows. Even the works of her “storm-and-stress” period were +not too far behind them; and her later calmer productions seem to have +had, at least for some natures among the “discouraged generation of +1850” (to which, as we have said, Mr Arnold himself by his first +publications belonged), something of that healing power which he has +assigned, in larger measure and with greater truth, to Wordsworth. A +man is never to be blamed for a certain generous overvaluation of +those who have thus succoured him; it would be as just to blame him +for thinking his mother more beautiful, his father wiser than they +actually were. <a id="page182" name="page182" title="182" class="page"></a>And Mr Arnold’s obituary here has a great deal of +charm. The personal and biographical part is done with admirable +taste, not a grain too much or too little of that <i lang="fr">moi</i> so +<i lang="fr">haïssable</i> in excess, so piquant as a mere seasoning, being +introduced: and the panegyric is skilful in the extreme. To be sure, +Mr Hamerton reappears, and Mr Arnold joins in the chorus of delight +because the French peasant no longer takes off his hat. Alas! there is +no need to go to the country of <i class="title">La Terre</i> to discover this sign +of moral elevation. But the delusion itself is only another proof of +Mr Arnold’s constancy to his early ideas. And looking back on the +whole volume, one is almost tempted to say that, barring the first +<i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i> itself, he had written no better book. +</p> + +<p> +Before very long the skill in selecting and editing which had been +first applied to Johnson’s <i class="title">Lives</i> found extended opportunities. +Mr Arnold had much earlier, in the <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, +expressed a wish that the practice of introducing books by a critical +and biographical Essay, which had long been naturalised in France, and +had in former times not been unknown in England, should be revived +among us. His words had been heard even before he himself took up the +practice, and for about the usual time—your thirty years is as a +matter of fact your generation—it flourished and prospered, not let +us hope to the great detriment of readers, and certainly to the modest +advantage of the public man when vexed by want of pence. <a id="page183" name="page183" title="183" class="page"></a>Nor can it +exactly be said to have ceased—though for some years grumbles have +been uttered. “Why,” says one haughty critic,—“why mar a beautiful +edition of So-and-so’s works by incorporating with them this or that +man’s estimate of their value?” “The publishers,” says an inspired +<i lang="fr">communiqué</i>, “are beginning to recognise that the public has no +need of such things in the case of works of established repute, of +which there is nothing new to be said.” No doubt both these are +genuine utterances: no doubt the haughty critic would have steadily +refused to “mar” the book by <em>his</em> estimate if he had been asked +to do so; no doubt the particular firm of publishers were not in the +least influenced by a desire to save the ten, twenty, fifty, or a +hundred guineas which this or that man might have demanded for saying +nothing new. +</p> + +<p> +But Mr Arnold did not agree with these severe folk. He thought—and +not a few good wits have thought with him—not only that these +Introductions are an opportunity for men like himself, with original +gifts of thought and style, to display these gifts, but that the +mighty public, for all its knowledge of everything that has been +thought and said about everybody, might find something new to it even +in the observations of lesser folk. As a matter of fact, of course, +and neither to talk nor to quote nonsense, the utility of such +Introductions, even if moderately well done, is unmistakable. Not one +in a thousand of the probable readers of any book has all the +information which even a fairly <a id="page184" name="page184" title="184" class="page"></a>competent introducer will put before +him; not one in a hundred knows the previous estimates of the author; +not many possess that acquaintance with his whole work which it is +part of the business of the introducer to acquire, and adjust for the +better understanding of the particular book. Of course, if an +Introduction is imperfectly furnished with fact and thought and +reading—if it is desultory, in bad taste, and so forth—it had better +not be there. But this is only saying that a bad Introduction is a bad +thing, which does not get us much beyond the intellectual edification +of the niece of Gorboduc. Unless the introducer is a boggler, the +Introduction will probably do good to those who want it and can be +neglected by those who don’t; while in the rarer and better cases it +will itself acquire, or even possess from the first, that very value +as a <i lang="fr">point de repère</i> which Mr Arnold had discussed. It will be +good relatively and good in itself,—a contribution at once to the +literature of knowledge and to the literature of power. +</p> + +<p> +Of Mr Arnold’s efforts in editing I may be permitted to neglect his +“intromittings” with Isaiah, for reasons already sufficiently given. +In more hopeful matter there are three examples which are not soon +likely to lose interest or value: the selection of his own poems, that +from Wordsworth, and that from Byron. To the first the English habits +of his own day did not permit him to prefix any extensive +Introduction, and though the principle is sound, one is almost sorry +<a id="page185" name="page185" title="185" class="page"></a>for the application. Neither Wordsworth nor Coleridge would have had +any scruples in doing this, and while Mr Arnold had the sense of the +ludicrous which Wordsworth lacked, he was less subject to disastrous +divagations than Coleridge. Still, the 1853 Preface enables those who +have some slight power of expansion to fill in what is wanted from the +point of view of purpose; and the selection itself is quite excellent. +Almost the only things that, as a basis for a good knowledge of the +poet, one finds it necessary to subjoin, are the beautiful +<i class="title">Resignation</i>, which Mr Humphry Ward had the good taste to +include in the appendix to his <i class="title">English Poets</i>; and the curious, +characteristic, and not much short of admirable <i class="title">Dream</i>, which in +the earlier issues formed part of <i class="title">Switzerland</i>, and should never +have been excluded from it. It is probably the best selection by a +poet from his own works that has ever been issued, and this is saying +not a little. Nor does one like Mr Arnold less for his saying, +reported either by Mr Ward or Lord Coleridge, that he had rather have +given <em>all</em> the poems. +</p> + +<p> +As for the “Wordsworth” and the “Byron,” they gain enormously by “this +man’s estimate of them,” and do not lose by “this man’s” selection. I +have had occasion, not once or twice only, and for purposes not +invariably the same, to go through the Wordsworth book carefully, side +by side with the complete poems, in order to see whether anything <a id="page186" name="page186" title="186" class="page"></a>has +necessarily to be added. I really do not know what has, unless it be a +few of the oases from the deserts of the <i class="title">Excursion</i>, the +<i class="title">Prelude</i>, and the then not published <i class="title">Recluse</i>. +Wordsworth’s real titles are put in once for all; the things by which +he must stand or fall are there. The professor, the very +thorough-going student, the literary historian, must go farther; the +idle person with a love of literature will; but nobody need. +</p> + +<p> +And the Introduction (for after all we can all make our selections for +ourselves, with a very little trouble) is still more precious. I know +few critical essays which give me more pleasure in reading and +re-reading than this. Not that I agree with it by any means as a +whole; but he is in the mere “Pettys” of criticism (it is true not +many seem to get beyond) who judges a critical essay by his own +agreement with it. Mr Arnold puts Wordsworth, as a poet and an English +poet, far higher than I can put him. He is not so great a poet to my +thinking as Spenser or Shelley; if it were possible in these +competitions to allow weight for age, he is not as great a poet as +Keats; I am sure he is not a greater poet than Tennyson; I cannot give +him rank above Heine or Hugo, though the first may be sometimes +naughty and the second frequently silly or rhetorical; and when Mr +Arnold begins to reckon Molière in, I confess I am lost. When and +where did Molière write poetry? But these things do not matter; they +are the things on which reviewers exercise their “will <a id="page187" name="page187" title="187" class="page"></a>it be +believed?” and on which critics agree to differ. We may include with +them the disparaging passage on Gautier (of whom I suspect Mr Arnold +knew little, and whom he was not quite fitted to judge had he known +more) and the exaltation of “life” and “conduct” and all the rest of +it. These are the colours of the regiment, the blazonry of the knight; +we take them with it and him, and having once said our say against +them, pass them as admitted. +</p> + +<p> +But what is really precious is first the excellent criticism scattered +broadcast all over the essay, and secondly, the onslaught on the +Wordsworthians. They might perhaps retort with a <i lang="la">tu quoque</i>. +When Mr Arnold attacks these poor folk for saying that Wordsworth’s +poetry is precious because its philosophy is sound, we remember a +certain Preface with its “all depends on the subject,” and chuckle a +little, a very little. But Mr Arnold is right here. No philosophy, no +subject, will make poetry without poetical treatment, and the +consequence is that <i class="title">The Excursion</i> and <i class="title">The Prelude</i> are, +as wholes, not good poems at all. They contain, indeed, passages of +magnificent poetry. But how one longs, how, as one sees from this +essay, Mr Arnold longed, for some mercury-process which would simply +amalgamate the gold out of them and allow us to throw the dross down +any nearest cataract, or let it be blown away by any casual hurricane! +</p> + +<p> +The Byron paper contains more disputable statements—indeed the +passage about Shelley, if it were quite <a id="page188" name="page188" title="188" class="page"></a>serious, which may be doubted, +would almost disqualify Mr Arnold as a critic of poetry. But it is +hardly less interesting, and scarcely at all less valuable. In the +first place, it is a very great thing that a man should be able to +admire both Byron and Wordsworth. Of a mere Byronite, indeed, Mr +Arnold has even less than he has of a Wordsworthian pure and simple. +He makes the most damaging admissions; he has to fall back on Goethe +for comfort and confirmation; he is greatly disturbed by M. Scherer’s +rough treatment of his subject. In no essay, I think, does he quote so +much from others, does he seem to feel it such a relief to find a +backer, a somebody to fight with on a side point, a somebody (for +instance Professor Nichol) to correct and gloss and digress upon while +complimenting him. Mr Arnold is obviously not at ease in this Zion—which +indeed is a Zion of an odd kind. Yet this very uneasiness gives +to the <i class="title">Essay</i> a glancing variety, a sort of animation and +excitement, which are not common things in critical prelections. Nor, +though one may think that Mr Arnold’s general estimate of Byron is not +even half as sound as his general estimate of Wordsworth, does the +former appear to be in even the slightest degree insincere. Much as +there must have been in Byron’s loose art, his voluble inadequacy—nay, +even in his choice of subject—that was repellent to Mr Arnold: +much more as there must have been in his unchastened conduct, his +flashy affectations, his lack of dignity, morality, <i lang="fr">tenue</i> of +every kind,—yet there were real links <a id="page189" name="page189" title="189" class="page"></a>between them. Mr Arnold saw in +Byron an ally, if not an altogether admirable or trustworthy ally, +against the Philistine. He saw in him a link with general European +literature, a check and antidote to the merely insular. Byron’s +undoubtedly “sincere and strong” dislike of the extreme Romantic view +of literature was not distasteful to Mr Arnold. Indeed, in his own +earlier poems there are not wanting Byronic touches and echoes, not so +easy to separate and put the finger on, as to see and hear +“confusedly.” Lastly, he had, by that sort of reaction which often +exhibits itself in men of the study, an obvious admiration for Force—the +admiration which makes him in his letters praise France up to 1870 +and Germany after that date—and he thought he saw Force in Byron. So +that the <i class="title">Essay</i> is written with a stimulating mingle-mangle of +attraction and reluctance, of advocacy and admission. It is very far +indeed from being one of his best critically. You may, on his own +principles, “catch him out” in it a score of times. But it is a good +piece of special pleading, an excellent piece of writing, and one of +the very best and most consummate literary <i lang="fr">causeries</i> in +English. +</p> + +<p> +In strict chronological order, a third example of these most +interesting and stimulating Prefaces should have been mentioned +between the “Wordsworth” and the “Byron”—the latter of which, indeed, +contains a reference to it. This is the famous Introduction to Mr T.H. +Ward’s <i class="title">English Poets</i>, which, in that work and in the second +series of <i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, where <a id="page190" name="page190" title="190" class="page"></a>it subsequently appeared, +has perhaps had more readers than any other of its author’s critical +papers. It contains, moreover, that still more famous definition of +poetry as “a criticism of life” which has been so often attacked and +has sometimes been defended. I own to having been, both at the time +and since, one of its most decided and irreconcilable assailants. Nor +do I think that Mr Arnold would have much relished the apology made, I +think, by Mr Leslie Stephen since his death, that its critics “mistake +an epigram for a philosophical definition.” In the first place, the +epigrammatic quality is not clearly apparent; and in the second place, +an epigram would in the particular place have been anything but +appropriate, while a philosophical definition is exactly what was +wanted. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Arnold himself never attempted any such defence. He pleaded, with +literal justice, that the phrase “a criticism of life” was only part +of his formula, which adds, “under the conditions fixed for such a +criticism by the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty.” But this +does not make the matter much better, while it shows beyond +controversy that it <em>was</em> a philosophical definition that he was +attempting. It merely takes us round in a circle, telling us that +poetry is poetical, that the archdeacon performs archidiaconal +functions. And while it is not more illuminative than that famous and +useful jest, it has the drawback of being positively delusive, which +the jest is not. Unless we are to assign some quite new <a id="page191" name="page191" title="191" class="page"></a>meaning to +“criticism”—and the assignment of new meanings to the terms of an +explanation is the worst of all explanatory improprieties—poetry is +<em>not</em> a criticism of life. It may be a passionate interpretation +of life—that has seemed to some not a bad attempt at the +unachievable,—a criticism it cannot be. Prose fiction may be and +should be such; drama may be and should be such; but not poetry. And +it is especially unfortunate that such poetry as answers best to the +term is exactly that poetry which Mr Arnold liked least. Dryden and +Pope have much good and true criticism of life: <i class="title">The Vanity of Human +Wishes</i> is magnificent criticism of life; but Mr Arnold has told us +that Dryden and Pope and Johnson are but “classics of our prose.” That +there is criticism of life <em>in</em> poetry is true; but then in +poetry there is everything. +</p> + +<p> +It would also, no doubt, be possible to pick other holes in the paper. +The depreciation of the “historic estimate,” instead of a simple hint +to correct it by the intrinsic, is certainly one. Another is a +distinct arbitrariness in the commendation or discommendation of the +examples selected. No one in his senses would put the <i class="title">Chanson de +Roland</i> on a level with the <i class="title">Iliad</i> as a whole; but some among +those people who happen to possess an equal acquaintance with Greek +and Old French will demur to Mr Arnold’s assignment of an ineffably +superior poetical quality to one of the two passages he quotes over +the other. So yet again with the denial of “high seriousness” to +<a id="page192" name="page192" title="192" class="page"></a>Chaucer. One feels disposed to enter and argue out a whole handful of +not quite contradictory pleas, such as “He <em>has</em> high +seriousness” (<i lang="la">vide</i> the “Temple of Mars,” the beginning of the +<i class="title">Parliament of Fowls</i>, and many other places): “Why should he +have high seriousness?” (a most effective demurrer); and “What +<em>is</em> high seriousness, except a fond thing vainly invented for +the nonce?” +</p> + +<p> +But, as has so constantly to be said in reference to Mr Arnold, these +things do not matter. He must have his catchwords: and so “criticism +of life” and “high seriousness” are introduced at their and his peril. +He must have his maintenance of the great classics, and so he exposes +what I fear may be called no very extensive or accurate acquaintance +with Old French. He must impress on us that conduct is three-fourths +of life, and so he makes what even those who stop short of +<i lang="el">latreia</i> in regard to Burns may well think mistakes about that +poet likewise. But all the spirit, all the tendency, of the +<i class="title">Introduction</i> is what it ought to be, and the plea for the +“real” estimate is as wholly right in principle as it is partly wrong +in application. +</p> + +<p> +It is well borne out by the two interesting articles on Gray and Keats +which Mr Arnold contributed to the same work. In the former, and here +perhaps only, do we find him putting his shoulder to the work of +critical advocacy and sympathy with an absolutely whole heart. With +Wordsworth, with Byron, with Heine, he was on points more or fewer at +grave difference; though he <a id="page193" name="page193" title="193" class="page"></a>affected to regard Goethe as a <i lang="la">magnus +Apollo</i> of criticism and creation both, I think in his heart of +hearts there must have been some misgivings; and it is impossible that +he should not have known his fancy for people like the Guérins to be +mere <i lang="fr">engouement</i>. Gray’s case was different. The resemblances +between subject and critic were extraordinary. Mr Arnold is really an +industrious, sociable, and moderately cheerful Gray of the nineteenth +century; Gray an indolent, recluse, more melancholy Arnold of the +eighteenth. Again, the literary quality of the bard of the +<i class="title">Elegy</i> was exactly of the kind which stimulates critics most. +From Sainte-Beuve downwards the fraternity has, justly or unjustly, +been accused of a tendency to extol writers who are a little +problematical, who approach the second class, above the unquestioned +masters. And there was the yet further stimulus of redressing wrongs. +Gray, though a most scholarly poet, has always pleased the vulgar +rather than the critics, and he had the singular fate of being +dispraised both by Johnson and by Wordsworth. But in this paper of Mr +Arnold’s the wheel came full circle. Everything that can possibly be +said for Gray—more than some of us would by any means indorse—is +here said for him: here he has provided an everlasting critical +harbour, into which he may retreat whensoever the popular or the +critical breeze turns adverse. +</p> + +<p> +And the Keats, less disputable in its general estimate, is equally +good in itself, and specially interesting <a id="page194" name="page194" title="194" class="page"></a>as a capital example of Mr +Arnold’s polemic—<em>the</em> capital example, indeed, if we except the +not wholly dissimilar but much later article on Shelley’s <i class="title">Life</i>. +He is rather unduly severe on the single letter of Keats which he +quotes; but that was his way, and it is after all only a justifiable +rhetorical <i lang="fr">reculade</i>, with the intent to leap upon the maudlin +defenders of the poet as a sort of hero of M. Feydeau, and rend them. +The improvement of the mere fashion, as compared with the +fantasticalities of the <i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i> period, is simply +enormous. And the praise which follows is praise really in the grand +style—praise, the style and quality of which are positively rejoicing +to the heart from their combination of fervour and accuracy, from +their absolute fulfilment of the ideal of a word shockingly misused in +these latter days, the word Appreciation. The personal sympathy which +Mr Arnold evidently had with Gray neither makes nor mars here; all is +purely critical, purely literary. And yet higher praise has never been +given by any save the mere superlative-sloppers of the lower press, +nor juster criticism meted out by the veriest critical Rhadamanthus. +Of its scale and kind, this, I think, is the most perfect example of +Mr Arnold’s critical power, and it is so late that it shows that power +to have been not merely far off exhaustion, but actually, like sound +old wine, certain to improve for years to come. +</p> + +<p> +In the seven years that were left to him after the publication of the +<i class="title">Byron</i>, Mr Arnold did not entirely <a id="page195" name="page195" title="195" class="page"></a>confine himself to the +service of his only true mistress Literature. But he never fell again +so completely into the power of Duessa as he had fallen between 1867 +and 1877. His infidelities were chiefly in the direction of politics, +not of religion or irreligion, and they were of a less gay and +frivolous character than those of a generally similar kind in earlier +dates. They were partly devoted to the change which has brought it +about, that, while during the third quarter of the century the +Conservatives were in power, though on three different occasions, yet +in each for absolutely insignificant terms, in the fourth Mr +Gladstone’s tenure of office from 1880 to 1885 has been the only +period of real Liberal domination. But although he dealt with the +phenomenon from various points of view in such articles as “The Nadir +of Liberalism,” the “Zenith of Conservatism,” and so forth, it was +chiefly, as was natural at the time, in relation to Ireland that he +exercised his political pen, and enough has been said about these +Irish articles by anticipation above. <i class="title">Discourses in America</i>, +the result of his lecturing tour to that country in 1883-84, and the +articles on Amiel, Tolstoi, and Shelley’s Life, which represent his +very last stage of life, require more particular attention. +</p> + +<p> +The <i class="title">Discourses in America</i>, two of them specially written, and +the other, originally a Cambridge “Rede” discourse, recast for the +Western Hemisphere, must always rank with the most curious and +interesting of Mr Arnold’s works: but the very circumstances of their +<a id="page196" name="page196" title="196" class="page"></a>composition and delivery made it improbable, if not impossible, that +they should form one of his best. These circumstances were of a kind +which reproduces itself frequently in the careers of all men of any +public distinction. In his days of comparative obscurity, or in some +position of “greater freedom and less responsibility,” even when he +ceases to be obscure, a man deals faithfully, but perhaps a little +flippantly, with this or that person, thing, nation, subject, +doctrine. Afterwards he is brought into a relation with the person or +nation, into a position as regards the thing, subject, or doctrine, +which necessitates, if not exactly a distinct recantation in the +humiliating sense attached to the Latin, yet a more or less graceful +and ingenious palinode in the more honourable one which we allow to +the Greek equivalent and original. Mr Arnold could never be lacking in +grace or in ingenuity; but he certainly had, in his earlier work, +allowed it to be perfectly visible that the world of American +politics, American manners, American institutions and ways generally, +was not in his eyes by any means a world all of sweetness or all of +light. +</p> + +<p> +His sense of the ludicrous, and his sense of art, alike precluded even +the idea of a clumsy apology, and though, as was to be expected, the +folk of the baser sort who exist everywhere may not have been pleased +with his Discourses, the people of the United States generally did not +owe him or show him any grudge for being frank and consistent as well +as polite. The subjects were selected and grouped with great skill. +<a id="page197" name="page197" title="197" class="page"></a>“Numbers” dealt with the burning question of democracy, which must +ever be uppermost—or as nethermost not less important—in a republic; +and dealt with it after the more moderate, not the extremer form, of +that combination of literature and politics which Mr Arnold had always +affected. “Literature and Science,” the middle discourse, attacked a +question which, so far as the nationality of his audience was +concerned, had nothing burning about it, which the lecturer was +singularly well qualified to treat from the one side, and which is +likely to retain its actuality and its moment for many a day and year, +perhaps many a century. “Emerson,” the last, descended from +generalities to the consideration of a particular subject, at once +specially American and specially literary. It would have been hard +indeed to exhibit better composition in the grouping of the subjects +as regards their classes, and criticism may be defied to find better +examples of each class than those actually taken. +</p> + +<p> +It is not clear that quite such high praise can be given to the +execution, and the reason is plain: it was in the execution, not in +the composition and scheme, that the hard practical difficulties of +the task came in. Long harnessed official as he was, and preacher as +he was, in his critical character, of Law, Order, Restraint, Mr Arnold +was both too much of an Englishman and too much of a genius not to be +ill to ride with the curb. And, save perhaps in “Literature and +Science” (which was not at first written for an American audience at +all), <a id="page198" name="page198" title="198" class="page"></a>the pressure of the curb—I had almost said of the twitch—is +too often evident, or at least suggested. This especially applies to +the first, the longest, the most ambitious, and, as its author would +say, most “nobly serious” of the three. There are quite admirable +things in “Numbers”; and the descant on the worship of the great +goddess Aselgeia, and its effect upon France, is not only nobly +serious from the point of view of morality, but is one of Mr Arnold’s +best claims to the title of a political philosopher, and even of a +political prophet. But it is less easy to say that this passage +appears to be either specially in place or well composed with its +companions. Perhaps the same is true of the earlier part, and its +extensive dealings with Isaiah and Plato. As regards the prophet, it +is pretty certain that of Mr Arnold’s hearers, the larger number did +not care to have Isaiah spoken about in that particular manner, while +some at least of the rest did not care to have him spoken about at +all. Of the philosopher, it is equally safe to say that the great +majority knew very little, and that of the small minority, some must +have had obstinate questionings connected with the appearance of Plato +as an authority on the moral health of nations, and with the +application of Mr Arnold’s own very true and very noble doctrine about +Aselgeia. In fact, although the lecture is the most thoughtful, the +most serious in part, the most forcible, and the truest of all Mr +Arnold’s political or social discourses, yet it shares with all of +them the reproach of a touch of desultory dilettantism. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="page199" name="page199" title="199" class="page"></a>The others, at least equally interesting in parts, are much better as +wholes. The opening of the “Emerson,” with its fond reminiscence of +Oxford, is in a vein which Mr Arnold did not often work, but which +always yielded him gold. In the words about Newman, one seems to +recognise very much more than meets the ear—an explanation of much in +the Arnoldian gospel, on something like the principle of revulsion, of +soured love, which accounts for still more in the careers of his +contemporaries, Mr Pattison and Mr Froude. He is less happy on +Carlyle—he never was very happy on Carlyle, and for obvious reasons—but +here he jars less than usual. As for Emerson himself, some readers +have liked Emerson better than Carlyle at first, but have found that +Carlyle “wears” a great deal better than Emerson. It seems to have +been the other way with Mr Arnold; yet he is not uncritical about +Emerson himself. On Emerson’s poetry he is even, as on his own +principles he was, perhaps, bound to be, rather hypercritical. Most of +it, no doubt, is not poetry at all; but it has “once in a hundred +years,” as Mr O’Shaughnessy sang, the blossoming of the aloe, the +star-shower of poetic meteors. And while, with all reverence, one is +bound to say that his denying the title of “great writer” to Carlyle +is merely absurd—is one of those caprices which somebody once told us +are the eternal foes of art—he is not unjust in denying that title to +Emerson. But after justifying his policy of not “cracking up” by still +further denying his subject the title of a great philosophic <a id="page200" name="page200" title="200" class="page"></a>thinker, +he proceeds to find a pedestal for him at last as a friend and leader +of those who would “live in the spirit.” With such a judgment one has +no fault to find, because it must be in all cases an almost purely +personal one. To some Gautier, with his doctrine of +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Sculpte, lime, cisèle,” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +as the great commandment of the creative artist, has been a friend and +leader in the life of the spirit: to Mr Arnold he was only a sort of +unspiritual innkeeper. To Mr Arnold, Maurice de Guérin, with his +second-hand Quinetism, was a friend and leader in the life of the +spirit; others scarcely find him so. “This is this to thee and that to +me.” +</p> + +<p> +The third (strictly the middle) piece fortunately requires no +allowances, and suffers from no drawbacks. “Literature and Science” is +an apology for a liberal education, and for a rationally ordered +hierarchy of human study, which it would be almost impossible to +improve, and respecting which it is difficult to think that it can +ever grow obsolete. Not only was Mr Arnold here on his own ground, but +he was fighting for his true mistress, with the lance and sword and +shield that he had proved. And the result is like that, of the +fortunate fights of romance: he thrusts his antagonists straight over +the crupper, he sends them rolling on the ground, and clutching its +sand with their fingers. Even Mr Huxley, stoutest and best of all the +Paynim knights, never succeeded in <a id="page201" name="page201" title="201" class="page"></a>wiping off this defeat; and it is +tolerably certain that no one else will. The language of the piece is +unusually lacking in ornateness or fanciful digression; but the logic +is the strongest that Mr Arnold ever brought to bear. +</p> + +<p> +The three last essays we have mentioned, apart from the pathetic and +adventitious interest which attaches to them as last, would be in any +case among the best of their author’s, and their value is (at least, +as it seems to me) in an ascending scale. To care very much for that +on Count Tolstoi is not easy for those who are unfashionable enough +not to care very much for the eloquent Russian himself. Nothing is +satisfactory that one can only read in translations. But Mr Arnold, in +whom a certain perennial youthfulness was (as it often, if not always, +is in the chosen of the earth) one of his most amiable features, seems +to have conceived a new <i lang="fr">engouement</i> for this new and quaintly +flavoured Russian literature. Had he lived longer, he probably would +have sung us something in a cautionary strain; just as it can never be +sufficiently regretted that he did not live long enough to handle +Ibsenism. And it would have been very particularly pleasant to hear +him on those <i class="title">Memoirs of a Mongol Minx</i> (as they have been +profanely called), which are assigned to the great Marie Bashkirtseff; +or on those others of the learned She-Mathematician, who waited with a +friend on a gentleman and suggested that he should marry <em>one</em> of +them, no matter which, and lead both about. <a id="page202" name="page202" title="202" class="page"></a>But the mixture of +freshness, of passion, and of regard for conduct in Count Tolstoi +could not but appeal to him; and he has given us a very charming +<i lang="fr">causerie</i> on <i class="title">Anna Karenina</i>, notable—like O’Rourke’s +noble feast—to +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Those who were there<br /> + And those who were not,”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +to those who have read the book itself, and to those who have not yet +found time to read it. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot plead much greater affection for the lucubrations of Amiel +than for Count Tolstoi’s dealings with that odd compound of crudity +and rottenness, the Russian nature; but Mr Arnold’s “Amiel” is +admirable. Never was there a more “gentlemanly correction,” a more +delicate and good-humoured setting to rights, than that which he +administers to Amiel’s two great panegyrists (who happened to be Mr +Arnold’s own niece and Mr Arnold’s own friend). On subjects like Maya +and the “great wheel” it would almost be impossible to conceive, and +certainly impossible to find, a happier commentator than Mr Arnold, +though perhaps in the regions of theology he had a private Maya, a +very Great Wheel, of his own. The firmness with which he rebukes the +maunderings of the Genevese hypochondriac—of whom some one once +unkindly remarked that he was not so much intoxicated with Idealism as +suffering from the subsequent headache—is equalled by the kindness of +the dealing; and the quiet decision with which he puts his fine +writing in <a id="page203" name="page203" title="203" class="page"></a>its proper place is better still. Nobody could call Mr +Arnold a Philistine or one insensible to <i lang="fr">finesse</i>, grace, +<i lang="de">sehnsucht</i>, the impalpable and intangible charm of melancholy +and of thought. And his comments on Amiel’s loaded pathos and his +muddled meditation are therefore invaluable. Nor is he less happy or +less just in the praise which, though not the first, he was one of the +first to give to by far the strongest side of Amiel’s talent, his +really remarkable power of literary criticism. +</p> + +<p> +But the best wine was still kept for the very last. It will have been +observed in these brief sketches of his work that, since his return to +the fields of literature proper, Mr Arnold had drawn nearer to the +<i lang="fr">causerie</i> and farther from the abstract critical essay,—that he +had taken to that mixture of biography, abstract of work, and +interspersed critical comment which Sainte-Beuve, though he did not +exactly invent it, had perfected, and which somebody, I think, has +recently described as “intensely irritating.” Well! well! pearls, as +we all know, are irritating to certain classes of consumers. He had +from the first done this well, he now did it consummately. That he +took occasion, in the paper on Shelley’s life which appeared in the +<i class="title">Nineteenth Century</i> for January 1888, to repeat his pet heresy +about Shelley’s poetry, matters nothing at all. It is an innocent +defiance, and no attempt whatever is made to support it by argument. +The purpose of the essay is quite different. Already, some years +before, in his <a id="page204" name="page204" title="204" class="page"></a>article on Keats, Mr Arnold had dealt some pretty sharp +blows both at the indiscretion of a certain class of modern literary +biographers, and at the pawing and morbid sentimentality of the same +persons or others. He had a new and a better opportunity in the matter +he was now handling, and he struck more strongly, more repeatedly, and +with truer aim than ever. From the moment of its appearance to the +present day, this piece has been an unceasing joy to all who love +literature with a sane devotion. Its composition is excellent; it +selects just the right points, dwells on them in just the right way, +and drops them just when we have had enough. In mere style it yields +to nothing of its author’s, and is conspicuously and quite +triumphantly free from his repetitions and other mannerisms. No +English writer—indeed one may say no writer at all—has ever tempered +such a blend of quiet contempt with perfect good-humour and perfect +good-breeding. Dryden would have written with an equally fatal +serenity, but not so lightly; Voltaire with as much lightness, but not +nearly so much like a gentleman—which may also be said Of Courier. +Thackeray could not have helped a blaze of indignation—honest and +healthy, but possibly just <i lang="la">plusquam</i>-artistic—at the +unspeakable persons who think that by blackening the unhappy Harriet +they can whiten Shelley. And almost any one would have been likely +either to commit the complementary error of being too severe on +Shelley himself, or, if this were avoided, to <a id="page205" name="page205" title="205" class="page"></a>underlie the charge of +being callous and unsympathetic. Every one of these rocks, and others, +Mr Arnold has avoided; and he has left us in the piece one of the most +perfect examples that exist of the English essay on subjects connected +with literature. In its own special division of <i lang="fr">causerie</i> the +thing is not only without a superior, it is almost without a peer; its +insinuated or passing literary comments are usually as happy as its +censure of vital matters, and even the above-referred-to heresy itself +gives it a certain piquancy. Ill indeed was the fate that took its +author away so soon after the completion of this little masterpiece; +yet he could not have desired to leave the world with a better +diploma-performance, lodged as an example of his actual +accomplishment. +</p> + +<p> +We must now return, for the last time unfortunately, to the narrative +of biographical events. December 1877 furnishes, in some letters to +his sister, evidence that he was increasingly “spread” (as the French +say quaintly) by notices of parties and persons—Mr Disraeli and Mr +Gladstone, Mr Huxley and Mr Ruskin. One is glad to hear of the +last-named that the writer “is getting to like him ”—the passages on +the author of <i class="title">Modern Painters</i> in the earlier letters are +certainly not enthusiastic—and that “he gains much by his fancy being +forbidden to range through the world of coloured cravats.” This +beneficial effect of evening dress is not limited to Mr Ruskin, and is +so well expressed that one only wishes Mr Arnold had let his <a id="page206" name="page206" title="206" class="page"></a>own fancy +range more freely in such epistolary criticisms of life. We hear that +Mr J.R. Green “likes the Reformation and Puritanism less the more he +looks into them,” again a not uncommon experience—and that Mr +Stopford Brooke is deriving much edification from the review of his +<i class="title">Primer</i>. The next year continues the series of letters to M. +Fontanes, and gives a pleasant phrase in one to another sister, Mrs +Cropper. “My poems have had no better friends in their early and needy +days than my own sisters”—wherein Mr Arnold unconsciously quotes +<i class="title">Goblin Market</i>, “there is no friend like a sister.” Later, Mr +Freeman is dashed off, <i lang="fr">a la maniere noire</i>, as “an ardent, +learned, and honest man, but a ferocious pedant.” 1879 yields a letter +to Miss Arnold, expressing the intention to send the Wordsworth book +of selections to M. Scherer, and beg him to review it, which request +resulted in one of the very best, perhaps <em>the</em> very best, of +that critic’s essays in English Literature. Mr Arnold is distressed +later at Renan’s taking Victor Hugo’s poetry so prodigiously <i lang="fr">au +serieux</i>, just as some of us have been, if not distressed, yet +mildly astonished, at Mr Arnold for not taking it, with all its +faults, half seriously enough. Geist, the dachshund, appears +agreeably, with many other birds and beasts, in a May letter of this +year, and botany reinforces zoology in a later one to Mr Grant Duff. +</p> + +<p> +1880 is at first less fertile, but gives an amusing account of a +semi-royal reception of Cardinal Newman <a id="page207" name="page207" title="207" class="page"></a>at the Duke of Norfolk’s in +May, and a very interesting series of letters from Pontresina in the +autumn. Fortunately for us Mrs Arnold was not with him, and we profit +by his letters to her. In one of them there is a very pleasing and +probably unconscious touch. “Rapallo [the Duchess of Genoa’s husband] +smokes the whole evening: <em>but I think he has a good heart</em>. And +later still we have the curious and not uncharacteristic information +that he is reading <i class="title">David Copperfield</i> for the first time (whence +no doubt its undue predominance in a certain essay), and the +description of Burns as “a beast with splendid gleams,” a view which +has been fully developed since. On February 21, 1881, there is another +interview, flattering as ever, with Lord Beaconsfield, and later he +tells M. Fontanes, “I never much liked Carlyle,” which indeed we knew. +The same correspondent has the only references preserved to Dean +Stanley’s death; but the magnificent verses which that death produced +make anything else superfluous. They appeared in the first number of +the <i class="title">Nineteenth Century</i> for 1882, when New Year’s Day gives us a +melancholy prediction. If “I live to be eighty [<i lang="la">i.e.</i>, in some +three years from the present moment], I shall probably be the only +person in England who reads anything but newspapers and scientific +publications.“ Too gloomy a view, let us hope; yet with something in +it. And a letter, a very little later, gives us interesting hints of +his method in verse composition, which was to hunt a Dictionary +(Richardson’s) for good <a id="page208" name="page208" title="208" class="page"></a>but unusual words—Theophile Gautier’s way +also, as it happens, though probably he did not know that. +</p> + +<p> +These later letters contain so many references to living people that +one has to be careful in quoting from them; but as regards himself, +there is of course no such need of care. That self-ruthlessness which +always prevented him from scamping work is amazingly illustrated in +one of October 1882, which tells how he sat up till five in the +morning rewriting a lecture he was to deliver in Liverpool, and got up +at eight to start for the place of delivery. Let us hope that a +champagne luncheon there—“chiefly doctors, but you know I like +doctors”—revived him after the night and the journey. And two months +later he makes pleasant allusion to “that demon Traill,” in reference +to a certain admirable parody of <i class="title">Poor Matthias</i>. He had thought +Mr Gladstone “hopelessly prejudiced against” him, and was +proportionately surprised when in August 1883 he was offered by that +Minister a pension of £250 for service to the poetry and literature of +England. Few Civil List pensions have been so well deserved. But Mr +Arnold, as most men of his quality would have been, was at once struck +with the danger of evil constructions being put by the baser sort on +the acceptance of an extra allowance from public funds by a man who +already had a fair income from them, and a comfortable pension in the +ordinary way to look forward to. Mr John Morley, however, and Lord +Lingen, luckily <a id="page209" name="page209" title="209" class="page"></a>succeeded in quieting his scruples, and only the very +basest sort grumbled. The great advantage, of course, was that it +enabled him to retire, as soon as his time was up, without too great +loss of income. +</p> + +<p> +A lecturing tour to America was already planned, and October 7, 1883 +is the last date from Cobham, “New York” succeeding it without any; +for Mr Arnold had the reprehensible and, in official persons, rare +habit of very constantly omitting dates, though not places. The St +Nicholas Club, “a delightful, poky, dark, exclusive little old club of +the Dutch families,” is the only place in which he finds peace. For, +as one expected, the interviewers made life terrible. These American +letters are interesting reading enough, but naturally tend to be +little more than a replica of similar letters from other Englishmen +who have done the same thing. As has been quite frankly admitted here, +Mr Arnold never made any effort, and seldom seems to have been +independently prompted, to write what are called “amusing” letters: he +merely tells a plain tale of journeys, lectures, meals, persons, +scenery, manners and customs, etc. Chicago seems to have vindicated +its character for “character” by hospitably forcing him to eat dinner +and supper “on end,” and by describing him in its newspapers as “an +elderly bird pecking at grapes on a trellis.” The whole tour, +including a visit to Canada, lasted nearly five months, and brought—not +the profit which some people expected, but—a good sum, with +wrinkles as to more if <a id="page210" name="page210" title="210" class="page"></a>the experiment were repeated. And when he came +back to England, the lectures were collected and printed. +</p> + +<p> +In February 1885 we have, addressed to his eldest daughter, then +married and living in America, a definition of “real civilisation” as +the state “when the world does not begin till 8 P.M. and goes on from +that till 1 A.M., not later.” This is, though doubtless jestful, +really a <i lang="fr">point de repère</i> for the manners of the later +nineteenth century as concerns a busy man who likes society. In the +eighteenth, and earlier in the nineteenth, men as busy as Mr Arnold +practically abstained from “the world” except quite rarely, while “the +world” was not busy. The dachshunds come in for frequent mention. +</p> + +<p> +On a Sunday in May of this year comes the warning of “a horrid pain +across my chest,” which, however, “Andrew Clark thinks [wrongly, +alas!] to be not heart” but indigestion. The <i class="title">Discourses in +America</i>, for which their author had a great predilection, came out +later. In August the pain is mentioned again; and the subsequent +remark, “I was a little tired, but the cool champagne at dinner +brought me round,” is another ominous hint that it was <em>not</em> +indigestion. Two of the most valuable of all the letters come in +October, one saying, “I think Oxford is still, on the whole, the place +in the world to which I am most attached” [“And so say all of us”]; +the other, after some notice of the Corpus plate, telling how “I got +out to Hinksey and up the hill to within sight of <a id="page211" name="page211" title="211" class="page"></a>the Cumnor firs. I +cannot describe the effect which this landscape always has upon me: +the hillside with its valleys, and Oxford in the great Thames valley +below.” And this walk is again referred to later. He was pleased by a +requisition that he should stand yet again for the Poetry +Professorship, though of course he did not accede to it. And at the +beginning of winter he had a foreign mission (his last) to Berlin, to +get some information for the Government as to German school fees. He +was much lionised, and seems to have enjoyed himself very much during +his stay, the Crown Princess being specially gracious to him. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was he long in England on his return, though long enough to bring +another mention of the chest pain, and an excellent definition of +education—would there were no worse!—“Reading five pages of the +Greek Anthology every day, and looking out all the words I do not +know.” In February 1886 he was back again investigating the Swiss and +Bavarian school systems; and that amiable animal-worship of his +receives a fresh evidence in the mention and mourning of the death of +“dear Lola” (not Montès, but another; in short, a pony), with a sigh +for “a <i lang="fr">mèche</i> of her hair.” The journey was finished by way of +France towards the end of March. At Hamburg Mr Arnold was “really [and +very creditably] glad to have had the opportunity of calling a man +Your Magnificence,” that being, it seems, the proper official style in +addressing the burgomaster. And May took him <a id="page212" name="page212" title="212" class="page"></a>back to America, to see +his married daughter and divers old friends. He remained there till +the beginning of September, improving, as he thought, in health, but +meeting towards the close an awkward bathing accident, which involved +no risk of drowning, but gave him a shock that was followed by a week +or two of troublesome attacks of pain across the chest. There is very +much in the letters of the time about the political crisis of 1886. +His retirement from official work came in November, and the letters +are fuller than ever of delight in the Cobham landscape. +</p> + +<p> +But the warnings grew more frequent, and we know that long before this +he had had no delusions about their nature. Indeed, it is doubtful +whether he had ever had any, considering the fact of the malady, which +had, as he says in a singularly manly and dignified <i lang="la">commentatio +mortis</i> dated January 29, 1887, struck down his father and +grandfather in middle life long before they came to his present age. +He “refuses every invitation to lecture or make addresses.” The +letters of 1887, too, are very few, and contain little of interest, +except an indication of a visit to Fox How; while much the same may be +said of those, also few, from the early months of 1888. The last of +all contains a reference to <i class="title">Robert Elsmere</i>. Five days later, on +April 15, a sudden exertion, it seems, brought on the fatal attack, +and he died. He had outlived his grand climacteric of sixty-three +(which he had thought would be “the end as well as the climax”) by two +years and three months. +</p> + + + + +<h2><a id="page213" name="page213" title="213" class="page"></a><a id="vi" name="vi">Chapter VI.</a></h2> + +<h3>Conclusion.</h3> + + +<p> +The personal matters which usually, and more or less gracefully, fill +the beginning of the end of a biography, are perhaps superfluous in +the case of a man who died so recently, and who was so well known as +Mr Matthew Arnold. Moreover, if given at all, they should be given by +some one who knew him more intimately than did the present writer. He +was of a singularly agreeable presence, without being in the sense of +the painter’s model exactly “handsome”; and in particular he could +boast a very pleasant and not in the least artificial smile. Some +artificiality of manner was sometimes attributed to him, I think +rather unjustly; but he certainly had “tricks and manners” of the kind +very natural to men of decided idiosyncrasy, unless they transcend all +mere trick, after the fashion which we know in Scott, which we are +sure of, without knowing, in Shakespeare. One of these Mr George +Russell glances at in the preface to the <i class="title">Letters</i>, a passage +which I read with not a little amusement, because I could <a id="page214" name="page214" title="214" class="page"></a>confirm it +from a memory of my only conversation with Mr Arnold. He had been +good-humouredly expostulating with me for overvaluing some French +poet. I forget at the distance of seventeen or eighteen years who it +was, but it was not Gautier. I replied in some such words as, “Well; +perhaps he is not very important in himself, but I think he is +‘important <em>for us</em>,’ if I may borrow that.” So he looked at me +and said, “<em>I</em> didn’t write that anywhere, did I?” And when I +reminded him that he had told us how Sainte-Beuve said it of +Lamartine, he declared that he had quite forgotten it. Which might, or +might not, be Socratic. +</p> + +<p> +But I should imagine that the complaints of his affectations in +ordinary society were as much exaggerated as I am sure that the +opposite complaints of the humdrum character of his letters are. +Somebody talks of the “wicked charm” which a popular epithet or +nickname possesses, and something of the sort seems to have hung about +“The Apostle of Culture,” “The Prophet of Sweetness and Light,” and +the rest. He only deserved his finical reputation inasmuch as he was +unduly given to the use of these catch-words, not because he in any +undue way affected to “look the part” or live up to them. And as for +the letters, it must be remembered that he was a very busy man, with +clerical work of the official kind enough to disgust a very +Scriblerus; that he had, so far as the published letters show us, no +very intimate friend, male or (still better) female, outside his own +family; and further, that <a id="page215" name="page215" title="215" class="page"></a>the degeneration of the art of +letter-writing is not a mere phrase, it is a fact. Has any of my +readers many—or any—correspondents like Scott or like Southey, like +Lamb or like FitzGerald, like Madame de Sévigné or like Lady Mary? He +is lucky if he has. Indeed, the simplicity of the <i class="title">Letters</i> is +the very surest evidence of a real simplicity in the nature. In the +so-called best letter-writers it may be shrewdly suspected that this +simplicity is, with rare exceptions, absent. Scott had it; but then +Scott’s genius as a novelist overflowed into his letters, as did +Southey’s talent of universal writing, and Lamb’s unalterable +quintessence of quaintness. But though I will allow no one to take +precedence of me as a champion of Madame de Sévigné, I do not think +that simplicity is exactly the note of that beautiful and gracious +person; it is certainly not that of our own Lady Mary, or of Horace +Walpole, or of Pope, or of Byron. Some of these, as we know, or +suspect with a strength equal to knowledge, write with at least a +sidelong glance at possible publication; some with a deliberate +intention of it; all, I think, with a sort of unconscious +consciousness of “how it will look” on paper. Of this in Mr Arnold’s +letters there is absolutely no sign. Even when he writes to +comparative strangers, he never lays himself out for a “point” or a +phrase, rarely even for a joke. To his family (and it should be +remembered that the immense majority of the letters that we possess +are family letters) he is naturally more familiar, but the familiarity +does <a id="page216" name="page216" title="216" class="page"></a>not bring with it any quips or gambols. Only in the very early +letters, and chiefly in those to Wyndham Slade, is there any +appearance of second thought, of “conceit,” in the good sense. Later, +he seems to have been too much absorbed in his three functions of +official, critic, and poet to do more than shake hands by letter and +talk without effort. +</p> + +<p> +But if he, as the phrase is, “put himself out” little as to +letter-writing, it was by no means the same in those other functions +which have been just referred to. In later years (it is Mr Humphry +Ward, I think, who is our sufficient authority for it) poetry was but +occasional amusement and solace to him, prose his regular avocation +from task-work; and there is abundant evidence that, willingly or +unwillingly, he never allowed either to usurp the place of the +vocation which he had accepted. Not everybody, perhaps, is so +scrupulous. It is not an absolutely unknown thing to hear men boast of +getting through their work somehow or other, that they may devote +themselves to <i lang="el">parerga</i> which they like, and which they are +pleased to consider more dignified, more important, nearer the chief +end of man. And from the extremely common assumption that other +people, whether they confess this or not, act upon it, one may at +least not uncharitably suppose that a much larger number would so act +if they dared, or had the opportunity. This was not Mr Arnold’s +conception of the relations of the hired labourer and the labour which +gains him his hire. Not only does he seem to have <a id="page217" name="page217" title="217" class="page"></a>performed his actual +inspecting duties with that exact punctiliousness which in such cases +is much better than zeal, but he did not grudge the expenditure of his +art on the requirements, and not the strict requirements only, of his +craft. The unfitness of poets for business has been often enough +proved to be a mere fond thing vainly invented; but it was never +better disproved than in this particular instance. +</p> + +<p> +Of the manner in which he had discharged these duties, some idea may +be formed from the volume of <i class="title">Reports</i> which was edited, the year +after his death, by Sir Francis Sandford. It would really be difficult +to imagine a better display of that “sweet reasonableness,” the +frequency of which phrase on a man’s lips does not invariably imply +the presence of the corresponding thing in his conduct. It would be +impossible for the most plodding inspector, who never dared commit a +sonnet or an essay, to deal with his subject in a way showing better +acquaintance with it, more interest in it, or more business-like +abstinence from fads, and flights, and flings. Faint and far-off +suggestions of the biographer of Arminius may, indeed, by a very +sensitive reader, be discovered in the slightly eccentric suggestion +that the Latin of the Vulgate (of which Mr Arnold himself was justly +fond) should be taught in primary schools, and in the rather perverse +coupling of “Scott and Mrs Hemans.” But these are absolutely the only +approaches to naughtiness in the whole volume. It is a real misfortune +that the nature of the subject should make readers <a id="page218" name="page218" title="218" class="page"></a>of the book +unlikely to be ever numerous; for it supplies a side of its author’s +character nowhere else (except in glimpses) provided by his extant +work. It may even be doubted, by those who have read it, whether +“cutting blocks with a razor” is such a Gothamite proceeding as it is +sometimes held to be. For in this case the blocks are chopped as well +as the homeliest bill-hook could do it; and we know that the razor was +none the blunter. At any rate, the ethical document is one of the +highest value, and very fit, indeed, to be recommended to the +attention of young gentlemen of genius who think it the business of +the State to provide for them, and not to require any dismal drudgery +from them in return. +</p> + +<p> +But the importance of Mr Arnold to English history and English +literature has, of course, little or nothing to do with his official +work. The faithful performance of that work is important to his +character; and the character of the work itself colours very +importantly, and, as we have seen, not perhaps always to unmitigated +advantage, the nature of his performances as a man of letters. But it +is as a man of letters, as a poet, as a critic, and perhaps most of +all as both combined, that he ranks for history and for the world. +</p> + +<p> +A detailed examination of his poetic performance has been attempted in +the earlier pages of this little book, as well as some general remarks +upon it; but we may well find room here for something more general +still. That the poet is as much above the prose-writer in rank <a id="page219" name="page219" title="219" class="page"></a>as he +is admittedly of an older creation, has always been held; and here, as +elsewhere, I am not careful to attempt innovation. In fact, though it +may seem unkind to say so, it may be suspected that nobody has ever +tried to elevate the function of the prose-writer above that of the +poet, unless he thought he could write great prose and knew he could +not write great poetry. But in another order of estimate than this, Mr +Arnold’s poetic work may seem of greater value than his prose, always +admirable and sometimes consummate as the latter is, if we take each +at its best. +</p> + +<p> +At its best—and this is how, though he would himself seem to have +sometimes felt inclined to dispute the fact, we must reckon a poet. +His is not poetry of the absolutely trustworthy kind. It is not like +that of Shelley or of Keats, who, when their period of mere juvenility +is past, simply cannot help writing poetry; nor is it, on the other +hand, like that of Wordsworth, who flies and flounders with an +incalculable and apparently irresponsible alternation. It is rather—though +I should rank it far higher, on all but the historic estimate, +than Gray’s—like that of Gray. The poet has in him a vein, or, if the +metaphor be preferred, a spring, of the most real and rarest poetry. +But the vein is constantly broken by faults, and never very thick; the +spring is intermittent, and runs at times by drops only. There is +always, as it were, an effort to get it to yield freely, to run clear +and constant. And—again as in the case of Gray—the poet subjects +himself to a further disability by <a id="page220" name="page220" title="220" class="page"></a>all manner of artificial +restrictions, struggles to comply with this or that system, theories, +formulas, tricks. He will not “indulge his genius.” And so it is but +rarely that we get things like the <i class="title">Scholar-Gipsy</i>, like the +<i class="title">Forsaken Merman</i>, like the second <i class="title">Isolation</i>; and when we +do get such things there is sometimes, as in the case of the +peroration to <i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>, and perhaps the splendid +opening of <i class="title">Westminster Abbey</i> and <i class="title">Thyrsis</i>, a certain +sense of parade, of the elaborate assumption of the singing-robe. +There is too seldom the sensation which Coleridge unconsciously +suggested in the poem that heralded the poetry of the nineteenth +century. We do not feel that +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “The fair breeze blew, the while foam flew,<br /> + <span class="il1">The furrow followed free”—</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +that +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “We were the first that ever burst<br /> + <span class="il1">Into that silent sea;”</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +but that a mighty launch of elaborate preparation is taking place, +that we are pleased and orderly spectators standing round, and that +the ship is gliding in due manner, but with no rush or burst, into the +sea of poetry. While elsewhere there may be even the sense of effort +and preparation without the success. +</p> + +<p> +But, once more, a poet is to be judged first by his best things, and +secondly by a certain <i>aura</i> or atmosphere, by a nameless, +intangible, but sensible quality, which, now nearer and fuller, now +farther and fainter, is over his work throughout. In both respects Mr +<a id="page221" name="page221" title="221" class="page"></a>Arnold passes the test. The things mentioned above and others, even +many others, are the right things. They do not need the help of that +rotten reed, the subject, to warrant and support them; we know that +they are in accordance with the great masters, but we do not care +whether they are or not. They sound the poetic note; they give the +poetic flash and iridescence; they cause the poetic intoxication. Even +in things not by any means of the best as wholes, you may follow that +gleam safely. The exquisite revulsion of the undertone in +<i class="title">Bacchanalia</i>— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Ah! so the silence was,<br /> + <span class="il1">So was the hush;”</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +the honey-dropping trochees of the <i class="title">New Sirens</i>; the description +of the poet in <i class="title">Resignation</i>; the outburst— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “What voices are these on the clear night air?” +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +of <i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i>; the melancholy meditation of <i class="title">A +Summer Night</i> and <i class="title">Dover Beach</i>, with the plangent note so +cunningly yet so easily accommodated to the general tone and motive of +the piece,—these and a hundred other things fulfil all the +requirements of the true poetic criticism, which only marks, and only +asks for, the <i lang="la">differentia</i> of poetry. +</p> + +<p> +And this poetic moment—this (if one may use the words, about another +matter, of one who wrote no poetry, yet had more than all but three or +four poets), this “exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss +<a id="page222" name="page222" title="222" class="page"></a>of the spouse, and ingression into the divine shadow” which poetry and +poetry alone confers upon the fit readers of it—is never far off or +absent for long together in Mr Arnold’s verse. His command of it is +indeed uncertain. But all over his work, from <i class="title">The Strayed +Reveller</i> to <i class="title">Westminster Abbey</i>, it may happen at any minute, +and it does happen at many minutes. This is what makes a poet: not the +most judicious selection of subject, not the most studious +contemplation and, as far as he manages it, representation of the +grand style and the great masters. And this is what Mr Arnold has. +</p> + +<p> +That his prose, admirable as it always is in form and invaluable as it +often is in matter, is on the whole inferior to his verse, is by no +means a common opinion, though it was expressed by some good judges +both during his life and at the time of his death. As we have seen, +both from a chance indication in his own letters and from Mr Humphry +Ward’s statement, he took very great pains with it; indeed, internal +evidence would be sufficient to establish this if we had no positive +external testimony whatsoever. He came at a fortunate time, when the +stately yet not pompous or over-elaborated model of the latest +Georgian prose, raised from early Georgian “drabness” by the efforts +of Johnson, Gibbon, and Burke, but not proceeding to the extremes of +any of the three, was still the academic standard; but when a certain +freedom on the one side, and a certain grace and colour on the other, +were being taken from the <a id="page223" name="page223" title="223" class="page"></a>new experiments of nineteenth-century prose +proper. Whether he or his contemporary Mr Froude was the greatest +master of this particular blend is a question which no doubt had best +be answered by the individual taste of the competent. I should say +myself that Mr Froude at certain moments rose higher than Mr Arnold +ever did; nothing of the latter’s can approach that magnificent +passage on the passing of the Middle Ages and on the church-bell sound +that memorises it. And Mr Froude was also free from the mannerisms, at +times amounting to very distinct affectation, to which, in his middle +period more especially, Mr Arnold succumbed. But he did not quite keep +his friend’s high level of distinction and <i lang="fr">tenue</i>. It was almost +impossible for Mr Arnold to be slipshod—I do not mean in the sense of +the composition books, which is mostly an unimportant sense, but in +one quite different; and he never, as Mr Froude sometimes did, +contented himself with correct but ordinary writing. If his defect was +mannerism, his quality was certain manner. +</p> + +<p> +The most noticeable, the most easily imitated, and the most doubtful +of his mannerisms was, of course, the famous iteration, which was +probably at first natural, but which, as we see from the +<i class="title">Letters</i>, he afterwards deliberately fostered and accentuated, +in order, as he thought, the better to get his new ideas into the +heads of what the type-writer sometimes calls the “Br<em>u</em>tish” +public. That it became at times extremely teasing is beyond argument, +and I should be rather afraid that Prince Posterity will <a id="page224" name="page224" title="224" class="page"></a>be even more +teased by it than we are, because to him the ideas it enforces will +be, and will have been ever since he can remember, obvious and +common-place enough. But when this and some other peccadillos (on +which it is unnecessary to dwell, lest we imitate the composition-books +aforesaid) were absent or even moderately present, sometimes +even in spite of their intrusion, Mr Arnold’s style was of a curiously +fascinating character. I have often thought that, in the good sense of +that unlucky word “genteel,” this style deserves it far more than the +style either of Shaftesbury or of Temple; while in its different and +nineteenth-century way, it is as much a model of the “middle” style, +neither very plain nor very ornate, but “elegant,” as Addison’s own. +Yet it is observable that all the three writers just mentioned keep +their place, except with deliberate students of the subject, rather by +courtesy or prescription than by actual conviction and relish on the +part of readers: and it is possible that something of the same kind +may happen in Mr Arnold’s case also, when his claims come to be +considered by other generations from the merely formal point of view. +Nor can those claims be said to be very securely based in respect of +matter. It is impossible to believe that posterity will trouble itself +about the dreary apologetics of undogmatism on which he wasted so much +precious time and energy; they will have been arranged by the Prince’s +governor on the shelves, with Hobbes’s mathematics and Southey’s +political essays. “But the criticism,” it will be said, <a id="page225" name="page225" title="225" class="page"></a>“<em>that</em> +ought to endure.” No doubt from some points of view it ought, but will +it? So long, or as soon, as English literature is intelligently taught +in universities, it is sure of its place in any decently arranged +course of Higher Rhetoric; so long, or as soon, as critics consider +themselves bound to study the history and documents of their business, +it will be read by them. But what hold does this give it? Certainly +not a stronger hold than that of Dryden’s <i class="title">Essay of Dramatic +Poesy</i>, which, though some of us may know it by heart, can scarcely +be said to be a commonly read classic. +</p> + +<p> +The fact is—and no one knew this fact more thoroughly, or would have +acknowledged it more frankly, than Mr Arnold himself—that criticism +has, of all literature that is really literature, the most precarious +existence. Each generation likes, and is hardly wrong in liking, to +create for itself in this province, to which creation is so scornfully +denied by some; and old critics are to all but experts (and apparently +to some of them) as useless as old moons. Nor can one help regretting +that so long a time has been lost in putting before the public a +cheap, complete, handy, and fairly handsome edition of the whole of Mr +Arnold’s prose. There is no doubt at all that the existence of such an +edition, even before his death, was part cause, and a large part of +the cause, of the great and continued popularity of De Quincey; and it +is a thousand pities that, before a generation arises which knows him +not, Mr Arnold is not allowed the same chance. As <a id="page226" name="page226" title="226" class="page"></a>it is, not a little +of his work has never been reprinted at all; some of the rest is +difficult of access, and what there is exists in numerous volumes of +different forms, some cheap, some dear, the whole cumbersome. And if +his prose work seems to me inferior to his poetical in absolute and +perennial value, its value is still very great. Not so much English +prose has that character of grace, of elegance, which has been +vindicated for this, that we can afford to lay aside or to forget such +consummate examples of it. Academic urbanity is not so universal a +feature of our race—the constant endeavour at least to “live by the +law of the <i lang="el">peras</i>,” to observe lucidity, to shun exaggeration, +is scarcely so endemic. Let it be added, too, that if not as the sole, +yet as the chief, herald and champion of the new criticism, as a +front-fighter in the revolutions of literary view which have +distinguished the latter half of the nineteenth century in England, Mr +Arnold will be forgotten or neglected at the peril of the generations +and the individuals that forget or neglect him. +</p> + +<p> +Little need be added about the loss of actual artistic pleasure which +such neglect must bring. Mr Arnold may never, in prose, be read with +quite the same keenness of delight with which we read him in poetry; +but he will yield delight more surely. His manner, except in his rare +“thorn-crackling” moments, and sometimes even then, will carry off +even the less <a id="page227" name="page227" title="227" class="page"></a>agreeable matter; with matter at all agreeable, it has a +hardly to be exaggerated charm. +</p> + +<p> +But it is in his general literary position that Mr Arnold’s strongest +title to eminence consists. There have certainly been greater poets in +English: I think there have been greater critics. But as poet and +critic combined, no one but Dryden and Coleridge can be for a moment +placed beside him: the fate of the false Florimel must await all +others who dare that adventure. And if he must yield—yield by a long +way—to Dryden in strength and easy command of whatsoever craft he +tried, to Coleridge in depth and range and philosophical grasp, yet he +has his revenges. Beside his delicacy and his cosmopolitan +accomplishment, Dryden is blunt and unscholarly; beside his directness +of aim, if not always of achievement, his clearness of vision, his +almost business-like adjustment of effort to result, the vagueness and +desultoriness of Coleridge look looser and, in the literary sense, +more disreputable than ever. Here was a man who could not only +criticise but create; who, though he may sometimes, like others, have +convicted his preaching of falsity by his practice, and his practice +of sin by his preaching, yet could in the main make practice and +preaching fit together. Here was a critic against whom the foolish +charge, “You can break, but you cannot make,” was confessedly +impossible—a poet who knew not only the <a id="page228" name="page228" title="228" class="page"></a>rule of thumb, but the rule +of the uttermost art. In him the corruption of the poet had not been +the generation of the critic, as his great predecessor in the two +arts, himself secure and supreme in both, had scornfully said. Both +faculties had always existed, and did always exist, side by side in +him. He might exercise one more freely at one time, one at another; +but the author of the <i class="title">Preface</i> of 1853 was a critic, and a ripe +one, in his heyday of poetry, the author of <i class="title">Westminster Abbey</i> +was a poet in his mellowest autumn of criticism. +</p> + +<p> +And yet he was something more than both these things, more than both +of these at once. But for that unlucky divagation in the Wilderness, +his life would have been the life of a man of letters only as far as +choice went, with the duties of no dishonourable profession +superadded. And even with the divagation it was mainly and really +this. To find parallels for Mr Arnold in his unflinching devotion to +literature we must, I fear, go elsewhere than to Dryden or to +Coleridge, we must go to Johnson and Southey. And here again we may +find something in him beyond both, in that he had an even nobler +conception of Literature than either. That he would have put her even +too high, would have assigned to her functions which she is unable to +discharge, is true enough; but this is at least no vulgar error. +Against ignoble neglect, against stolid misunderstanding, against +mushroom rivalry, he <a id="page229" name="page229" title="229" class="page"></a>championed her alike. And it was most certainly +from no base motive. If he wanted an English Academy, I am quite sure +it was not from any desire for a canary ribbon or a sixteen-pointed +star. Yet, after Southey himself in the first half of the century, who +has done so much for letters <i lang="la">quâ</i> letters as Mr Arnold in the +second? His poems were never popular, and he tried no other of the +popular departments of literature. But he wrote, and I think he could +write, nothing that was not literature, in and by the fact that he was +its writer. It has been observed of others in other kinds, that +somehow or other, by merely living, by pursuing their own arts or +crafts whatever they were, they raised those arts and crafts in +dignity, they bestowed on them as it were a rank, a position. A few—a +very few—at successive times have done this for literature in +England, and Mr Arnold was perhaps the last who did it notably in +ours. One cannot imagine him writing merely for money, for position, +even for fame—for anything but the <i lang="fr">devoir</i> of the born and +sworn servant of Apollo and Pallas. Such devotion need not, of course, +forbid others of their servants to try his shield now and then with +courteous arms or even at sharps—as he tried many. But it was so +signal, so happy in its general results, so exactly what was required +in and for England at the time, that recognition of it can never be +frank enough, or cordial enough, or too much admiring. Whenever I +think of Mr Arnold it is in those own <a id="page230" name="page230" title="230" class="page"></a>words of his, which I have +quoted already, and which I quoted to myself on the hill by Hinksey as +I began this little book in the time of fritillaries— +</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="stanza"> + “Still nursing the unconquerable hope,<br /> + Still clutching the inviolable shade”— +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="continued"> +the hope and shade that never desert, even if they flit before and +above, the servants and the lovers of the humaner literature. +</p> + + + + +<h1><a id="page231" name="page231" title="231" class="page"></a><a id="index" name="index">Index.</a></h1> + +<hr /> + +<ol class="index"> +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Alaric at Rome</i>, <a href="#page004">(4)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Bacchanalia, or the New Age</i>, <a href="#page114">(114)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Balder Dead</i>, <a href="#page052">(52)</a>, <a href="#page053">(53)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Byron, Poetry of</i>, ed. Arnold, <a href="#page185">(185)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Celtic Literature, On the Study of</i>, <a href="#page066">(66)</a>, <a href="#page104">(104)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Church of Brou, The</i>, <a href="#page038">(38)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Consolation</i>, <a href="#page028">(28)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Cromwell</i>, <a href="#page008">(8)</a>, <a href="#page009">(9)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Culture and Anarchy</i>, <a href="#page128">(128)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Discourses in America</i>, <a href="#page195">(195)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Dover Beach</i>, <a href="#page112">(112)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Empedocles on Etna</i>, <a href="#page023">(23)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Essays in Criticism</i>, <a href="#page083">(83)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i>, <a href="#page123">(123)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Eton, A French</i>, <a href="#page079">(79)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Farewell, A</i>, <a href="#page027">(27)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Forsaken Merman, The</i>, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">French Eton, A</i>, <a href="#page079">(79)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Friend, To a</i>, sonnet, <a href="#page015">(15)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Friendship’s Garland</i>, <a href="#page148">(148)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">God and the Bible</i>, <a href="#page137">(137)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Heine’s Grave</i>, <a href="#page115">(115)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Homer, On Translating</i>, <a href="#page066">(66)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">In Utrumque Paratus</i>, <a href="#page020">(20)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Irish Essays</i>, <a href="#page151">(151)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Isolation</i>, <a href="#page031">(31)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter">Johnson’s Lives of the Poets, ed. Arnold, <a href="#page169">(169)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Last Essays on Church and Religion</i>, <a href="#page137">(137)</a>, <a href="#page142">(142)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Letters</i>, <a href="#page001">(1)</a>, <a href="#page015">(15)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i>, <a href="#page214">(214)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Lines written by a Death-bed</i>, <a href="#page032">(32)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Literature and Dogma</i>, <a href="#page131">(131)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Longing</i>, <a href="#page030">(30)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Marguerite, To</i>, <a href="#page031">(31)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Memorial Verses</i>, <a href="#page026">(26)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Merman, The Forsaken</i>, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Merope</i>, <a href="#page060">(60)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Mixed Essays</i>, <a href="#page168">(168)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Modern Sappho, The</i>, <a href="#page017">(17)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Mycerinus</i>, <a href="#page013">(13)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">New Sirens, The</i>, <a href="#page017">(17)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Obermann</i>, <a href="#page053">(53)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">On the Rhine</i>, <a href="#page029">(29)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">On the Study of Celtic Literature</i>, <a href="#page066">(66)</a>, <a href="#page104">(104)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">On the Terrace at Berne</i>, <a href="#page016">(16)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">On Translating Homer</i>, <a href="#page066">(66)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Preface</i>, the, to the ‘Poems’ of 1853. <a href="#page033">(33)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Prose Passages</i>, <a href="#page166">(166)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter">Renan, Arnold’s relations with, <a href="#page101">(101)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Requiescat</i>, <a href="#page039">(39)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Resignation</i>, <a href="#page020">(20)</a>, <a href="#page185">(185)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Rugby Chapel</i>, <a href="#page115">(115)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><a id="page232" name="page232" title="232" class="page"></a>Sainte-Beuve, <a href="#page059">(59)</a>, <a href="#page203">(203)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Scholar-Gipsy, The</i>, <a href="#page005">(5)</a>, <a href="#page040">(40)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Schools and Universities on the Continent</i>, <a href="#page116">(116)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Selected Poems</i>, <a href="#page184">(184)</a>.</li> +<li>Shairp, Principal, lines on Arnold by, <a href="#page005">(5)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Shakespeare</i>, Sonnet to, <a href="#page015">(15)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Sick King in Bokhara</i>, <a href="#page015">(15)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Sohrab and Rustum</i>, <a href="#page037">(37)</a>, <a href="#page051">(51)</a>, <a href="#page052">(52)</a>.</li> +<li>Southey, use of rhymeless metre by, <a href="#page011">(11)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">St Brandan</i>, <a href="#page111">(111)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">St Paul and Protestantism</i>, <a href="#page130">(130)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Stagirius</i>, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Strayed Reveller, The</i>, <a href="#page010">(10)</a> <i lang="la">et seq.</i></li> +<li><i class="title">Summer Night, A</i>, <a href="#page026">(26)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Switzerland</i>, <a href="#page016">(16)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter">Tennyson, influence of, on Arnold, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Thyrsis</i>, <a href="#page111">(111)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">To Fausta</i>, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">To Marguerite</i>, <a href="#page031">(31)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender Leave-taking</i>, <a href="#page016">(16)</a>, <a href="#page027">(27)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Tristram and Iseult</i>, <a href="#page024">(24)</a>, <a href="#page025">(25)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter"><i class="title">Voice, The</i>, <a href="#page019">(19)</a>.</li> + +<li class="first-of-letter">Ward’s <i class="title">English Poets</i>, Arnold’s Introduction to, <a href="#page189">(189)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Westminster Abbey</i>, <a href="#page207">(207)</a>, <a href="#page220">(220)</a>, <a href="#page228">(228)</a>.</li> +<li><i class="title">Wordsworth, Poems of</i>, ed. Arnold, <a href="#page185">(185)</a>.</li> +</ol> + + + + +<div id="the-end">The End.</div> + +<div id="printed-by">Printed by William Blackwood and Sons.</div> + + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-1" id="fn-1"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 1:</span> +</a> +Mr Arthur Galton’s <i class="title">Matthew Arnold</i> (London, 1897) adds a +few pleasant notes, chiefly about dachshunds. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2" id="fn-2"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 2:</span> +</a> +It is impossible, in dealing with them, to be too grateful to Mr. +T.B. Smart’s <i class="title">Bibliography of Matthew Arnold</i> (London, 1892), a +most craftsmanlike piece of work. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-3" id="fn-3"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 3:</span> +</a> +The editor glosses this variously spelt and etymologically +puzzling word “landing-stage.” But unless I mistake, a “kempshott,” +“campshed,” or “campshedding” is not a landing-stage (though it helps +to make one) so much as a river-wall of stakes and planks, put to +guard the bank against floods, the wash of barges, &c. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-4" id="fn-4"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 4:</span> +</a> +<i class="title">Glen Desseray and other Poems</i>. By John Campbell Shairp, +London, 1888. P. 218. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-5" id="fn-5"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 5:</span> +</a> +This statement may seem too sweeping, especially as there is +neither room nor occasion for justifying it fully. Let us only +indicate, as among the heads of such a justification, the following +sins of English criticism between 1840-1860,—the slow and reluctant +acceptance even of Tennyson, even of Thackeray; the obstinate refusal +to give Browning, even after <i class="title">Bells and Pomegranates</i>, a fair +hearing; the recalcitrance to Carlyle among the elder, and Mr Ruskin +among the younger, innovators in prose; the rejection of a book of +erratic genius like <i class="title">Lavengro</i>; the ignoring of work of such +combined intrinsic beauty and historic importance as <i class="title">The Defence of +Guenevere</i> and FitzGerald’s <i class="title">Omar Khayyam</i>. For a sort of +quintessence of literary Philistinism, see the advice of Richard Ford +(himself no Philistine) to George Borrow, in Professor Knapp’s +<i class="title">Life</i> of the latter, i. 387. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-6" id="fn-6"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 6:</span> +</a> +This “undertone,” as Mr Shairp calls it. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-7" id="fn-7"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 7:</span> +</a> +“What, then, are the situations, from the representation of which, +though accurate, no poetical enjoyment can be derived? They are those +in which the suffering finds no vent in action; in which a continuous +state of mental distress is prolonged, unrelieved by incident, hope, +or resistance; in which there is everything to be endured, nothing to +be done. In such situations there is inevitably something morbid, in +the description of them something monotonous. When they occur in +actual life, they are painful, not tragic; the representation of them +in poetry is painful also.” +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-8" id="fn-8"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 8:</span> +</a> +“The Tuxford waiter desponds exactly as you do.”—<i class="title">Sydney Smith +to Jeffrey</i>. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-9" id="fn-9"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 9:</span> +</a> +The mystery is partly explained, in a fashion of no little +biographical importance, by the statement in Mr Arnold’s first general +report for the year 1852, that his district included Lincoln, +Nottingham, Derby, Stafford, Salop, Hereford, Worcester, Warwick, +Leicester, Rutland and Northants, Gloucester, Monmouth, <em>all</em> +South Wales, most of North Wales, and some schools in the East and +West Ridings. This apparently impossible range had its monstrosity +reduced by the limitation of his inspectorship to Nonconformist +schools of other denominations than the Roman Catholic, especially +Wesleyan and the then powerful “British” schools. As the schools +multiplied the district was reduced, and at last he had Westminster +only; but the exclusion of Anglican and Roman Catholic schools +remained till 1870. And it is impossible not to connect the somewhat +exaggerated place which the Dissenters hold in his social and +political theories (as well as perhaps some of his views about the +“Philistine”) with these associations of his. We must never forget +that for nearly twenty years Mr Arnold worked in the shadow, not of +Barchester Towers, but of Salem Chapel. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-10" id="fn-10"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 10:</span> +</a> +“I have papers sent me to look over which will give me to the 20th +of January in <em>London</em> without moving, then for a week to +<em>Huntingdonshire</em> schools, then for another to London, ...and +then <em>Birmingham</em> for a month.” +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-11" id="fn-11"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 11:</span> +</a> +There are persons who would spell this <i>moral</i>; but I am not +writing French, and in English the practice of good writers from +Chesterfield downwards is my authority. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-12" id="fn-12"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 12:</span> +</a> +The letters are full of pleasant child-worship, the best passage +of all being perhaps the dialogue between Tom and “Budge,” at vol. i. +p. 56, with the five-year-old cynicism of the elder’s reply, “Oh this +is <em>false</em> Budge, this is all <em>false!</em>” to his infant +brother’s protestations of affection. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-13" id="fn-13"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 13:</span> +</a> +Mr Disraeli’s words (in 1864) have been referred to above (p. +100). They were actually: “At that time [when they had met at Lord +Houghton’s some seven or eight years earlier] ... you yourself were +little known. Now you are well known. You have made a reputation, but +you will go further yet. You have a great future before you, and you +deserve it.” Crabb Robinson was a much older acquaintance, and is +credited, I believe, with the remark far earlier, that “he shouldn’t +<em>dare</em> to be intimate” with so clever a young man as Matthew +Arnold. Very shortly before his death in February 1867, he had met Mr +Arnold in the Athenæum, and asked “which of all my books I should +myself name as the one that had got me my great reputation. I said I +had not a great reputation, upon which he answered: ‘Then it is some +other Matthew Arnold who writes the books.’” The passage, which +contains an odd prophecy of the speaker’s own death, and an +interesting indication that Mr Arnold rightly considered the +<i class="title">Essays</i> to be “the book that got him his reputation,” will be +found in <i class="title">Letters</i>, i. 351. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-14" id="fn-14"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 14:</span> +</a> +Of the remaining contents, the <i class="title">Prefaces</i> of 1853-5 are +invaluable, at least the first is, but this has been already noticed. +Of <i class="title">The French Play in London</i>, I am, perhaps, no good judge, as +I take little interest in the acted drama. It is much occupied with +the inferiority of French poetry, and especially of the poetry of +Hugo; the inferiority of English civilisation, especially of the +middle class. There are good things in it, but they are better said +elsewhere. The rest needs no notice. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-15" id="fn-15"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 15:</span> +</a> +A note on the contents of this and the subsequent collected +editions may not be unwelcome; for, as was always the case with him, +he varied them not a little. This first collection was advertised as +comprehending “the First and Second Series of the Author’s Poems and +the New Poems,” but as a matter of fact half-a-dozen pieces—including +things as interesting as <i class="title">A Dream</i> and <i class="title">Stagirius</i>—are +omitted, though the fine <i class="title">In Utrumque Paratus</i> reappears for the +first time as a consolation. As reprinted in 1877, this collection +dropped <i class="title">The Church of Brou</i> except the third part, and recovered +not only <i class="title">Stagirius</i> and others but <i class="title">The New Sirens</i>, +besides giving, for the first time in book-form, <i class="title">Haworth +Churchyard</i>, printed twenty-two years before in <i class="title">Fraser</i>. A +further reprint in 1881 restored the whole <i class="title">Church of Brou</i> and +<i class="title">A Dream</i>, and gave two or three small additions, especially +<i class="title">Geist’s Grave</i>. The <em>three-volume</em> edition of 1885 also +republished <i class="title">Merope</i> for the first time, and added <i class="title">Westminster +Abbey</i> and <i class="title">Poor Matthias</i>. The <em>one</em>-volume edition of +1890 reproduced all this, adding <i class="title">Horatian Echo</i> and <i class="title">Kaiser +Dead</i>; it is complete save for the two prize poems, and six or +seven smaller pieces. +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-16" id="fn-16"> +<span class="fn-label">Footnote 16:</span> +</a> +“I do not like the course for the History School at all; nothing +but read, read, read, endless histories in English, many of them by +quite second-rate men; nothing to form the mind as reading really +great authors forms it, or even to exercise it as learning a new +language, or mathematics, or one of the natural sciences exercises +it.” +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + +***** This file should be named 16284-h.htm or 16284-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/8/16284/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/16284.txt b/16284.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..52f7144 --- /dev/null +++ b/16284.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6301 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Matthew Arnold + +Author: George Saintsbury + +Release Date: July 13, 2005 [EBook #16284] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +MODERN ENGLISH WRITERS. + + * * * * * + +MATTHEW ARNOLD...... Professor SAINTSBURY. + +R.L. STEVENSON...... L. COPE CORNFORD. + +JOHN RUSKIN ....... Mrs MEYNELL. + +ALFRED TENNYSON ..... ANDREW LANG. + +THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY ... EDWARD CLODD. + +THACKERAY ........ CHARLES WHIBLEY. + +GEORGE ELIOT....... A.T. QUILLER-COUCH. + +BROWNING......... C.H. HERFORD. + +FROUDE.......... JOHN OLIVER HOBBES. + +DICKENS ......... W.E. HENLEY. + +[Symbol: 3 asterisks] _Other Volumes will be announced in due +course_. + + * * * * * + +WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, EDINBURGH AND LONDON + +MATTHEW ARNOLD + +BY + + +GEORGE SAINTSBURY + +PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE +UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH + +THIRD IMPRESSION + +WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS +EDINBURGH AND LONDON +MCMII + + + + +PREFACE. + + +Mr. Matthew Arnold, like other good men of our times, disliked the +idea of being made the subject of a regular biography; and the only +official and authoritative sources of information as to the details of +his life are the _Letters_ published by his family, under the +editorship of Mr G.W.E. Russell (2 vols., London, 1895)[1]. To these, +therefore, it seems to be a duty to confine oneself, as far as such +details are concerned, save as regards a very few additional facts +which are public property. But very few more facts can really be +wanted except by curiosity; for in the life of no recent person of +distinction did things literary play so large a part as in Mr +Arnold's: of no one could it be said with so much truth that, family +affections and necessary avocations apart, he was _totus in +illis_. And these things we have in abundance.[2] If the following +pages seem to discuss them too minutely, it can only be pleaded that +those to whom it seems so are hardly in sympathy with Matthew Arnold +himself. And if the discussion seems to any one too often to take the +form of a critical examination, let him remember Mr. Arnold's own +words in comparing the treatment of Milton by Macaulay and by M. +Scherer:-- + + "Whoever comes to the _Essay on Milton_ with the desire to get + at the real truth about Milton, whether as a man or a poet, will + feel that the essay in nowise helps him. A reader who only wants + rhetoric, a reader who wants a panegyric on Milton, a panegyric on + the Puritans, will find what he wants. A reader who wants criticism + will be disappointed." + +I have endeavoured, in dealing with the master of all English critics +in the latter half of the nineteenth century, to "help the reader who +wants criticism." + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Mr Arthur Galton's _Matthew Arnold_ (London, 1897) adds a +few pleasant notes, chiefly about dachshunds. + +[2] It is impossible, in dealing with them, to be too grateful to Mr. +T. B. Smart's _Bibliography of Matthew Arnold_ (London, 1892), a +most craftsmanlike piece of work. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + * * * * * + +CHAP. + +I. LIFE TILL MARRIAGE, AND WORK TILL THE PUBLICATION OF THE +_POEMS_ OF 1853 + +II. LIFE FROM 1851-62--SECOND SERIES OF _POEMS_--_MEROPE_--_ON +TRANSLATING HOMER_ + +III. _A FRENCH ETON_--_ESSAYS IN CRITICISM_--_CELTIC LITERATURE_--_NEW +POEMS_--LIFE FROM 1862 TO 1867 + +IV. IN THE WILDERNESS + +V. THE LAST DECADE + +VI. CONCLUSION + + * * * * * + +INDEX + + + + + +MATTHEW ARNOLD. + + * * * * * + + + +CHAPTER I. + +LIFE TILL MARRIAGE, AND WORK TILL THE PUBLICATION OF THE _POEMS_ +OF 1853. + + +Even those who are by no means greedy of details as to the biography +of authors, may without inconsistency regret that Matthew Arnold's +_Letters_ do not begin till he was just five-and-twenty. And then +they are not copious, telling us in particular next to nothing about +his literary work (which is, later, their constant subject) till he +was past thirty. We could spare schoolboy letters, which, though often +interesting, are pretty identical, save when written by little prigs. +But the letters of an undergraduate--especially when the person is +Matthew Arnold, and the University the Oxford of the years +1841-45--ought to be not a little symptomatic, not a little +illuminative. We might have learnt from them something more than we +know at present about the genesis and early stages of that not +entirely comprehensible or classifiable form of Liberalism in matters +political, ecclesiastical, and general which, with a kind of altered +Voltairian touch, attended his Conservatism in literature. Moreover, +it is a real loss that we have scarcely anything from his own pen +about his poems before _Sohrab and Rustum_--that is to say, about the +great majority of the best of them. By the time at which we have full +and frequent commentaries on himself, he is a married man, a harnessed +and hard-working inspector of schools, feeling himself too busy for +poetry, not as yet tempted by promptings within or invitations from +without to betake himself to critical prose in any quantity or +variety. Indeed, by a not much more than allowable hyperbole, we may +say that we start with the book of his poetry all but shut, and the +book of his prose all but unopened. + +We must therefore make what we can of the subject, and of course a +great deal more is to be made in such a case of the work than of the +life. The facts of the latter are but scanty. Matthew Arnold, as all +the world knows, was the son--the eldest son--of the famous Dr +(Thomas) Arnold, Head-master of Rugby, and Regius Professor of Modern +History at Oxford, where he had earlier been a Fellow of Oriel. Dr +Arnold survives in the general memory now chiefly by virtue of his +head-mastership, which was really a remarkable one, whatever +distinction it may owe to the loyalty of such a group of pupils as his +son, Dean Stanley, Clough, "Tom Brown" Hughes, and others. But he was, +if not positively great, a notable and influential person in many +ways. As a historian he was alert and intelligent, though perhaps too +much under the influence of that subtlest and most dangerous kind of +"popular breeze" which persuades those on whom it blows that they are +sailing not with but away from the vulgar. As a scholar he was +ingenious, if not very erudite or deep. He was really a master, and +has been thought by some good judges a great master, of that admirable +late Georgian academic style of English prose, which is almost the +equal of the greatest. But he was, if not exactly _cupidus novarum +rerum_ in Church and State, very ready to entertain them; he was +curiously deficient in logic; and though the religious sense was +strong in him, he held, and transmitted to his son, the heresy--the +foundation of all heresies--that religion is something that you can +"bespeak," that you can select and arrange to your own taste; that it +is not "to take or to leave" at your peril and as it offers itself. + +On August 11, 1820, Dr Arnold married Mary Penrose, and as he had +devoted his teaching energies, which were early developed, not to +school or university work, but to the taking of private pupils at +Laleham on the Thames, between Staines and Chertsey, their eldest son +was born there, on Christmas Eve, 1822. He was always enthusiastic +about the Thames valley, though not more so than it deserves, and in +his very earliest letter (January 2, 1848) we find record of a visit, +when he found "the stream with the old volume, width, shine, rapid +fulness, 'kempshott,'[1] and swans, unchanged and unequalled." He was +only six years old when his father was elected to the head-mastership +of Rugby; he was educated in his early years at his birthplace, where +an uncle, the Rev. John Buckland, carried on the establishment, and at +the age of fourteen he was sent to Winchester, his father's school. +Here he only remained a year, and entered Rugby in August 1837. He +remained there for four years, obtaining an open Balliol scholarship +in 1840, though he did not go up till October 1841. In 1840 he had +also gained the prize for poetry at Rugby itself with _Alaric at +Rome_, a piece which was immediately printed, but never reprinted +by its author, though it is now easily obtainable in the 1896 edition +of those poems of his which fell out of copyright at the seven years +after his death. + +It is an observation seldom falsified, that such exercises, by poets +of the higher class, display neither their special characteristics, +nor any special characteristics at all. Matthew Arnold's was not one +of the exceptions. It is very much better than most school prize +poems: it shows the critical and scholarly character of the writer +with very fair foreshadowing; but it does not fore-shadow his poetry +in the very least. It is quite free from the usual formal faults of a +boy's verse, except some evidences of a deficient ear, especially for +rhyme ("full" and "beautiful," "palaces" and "days"). It manages a +rather difficult metre (the sixain rhymed _ababcc_ and ending +with an Alexandrine) without too much of the monotony which is its +special danger. And some of the tricks which the boy-poet has caught +are interesting and abode with him, such as the _anadiplosis_-- + + "Yes, there are stories registered on high, + Yes, there are stains Time's fingers cannot blot"; + +in which kind he was to produce some years later the matchless + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade," + +of the _Scholar-Gipsy_. On the whole, the thing is correct but +colourless; even its melancholy is probably mere Byronism, and has +nothing directly to do with the later quality of _Dover Beach_ +and _Poor Matthias_. + +Of Mr Arnold's undergraduate years we have unluckily but little +authentic record, and, as has been said, not one letter. The most +interesting evidence comes from Principal Shairp's well-known lines in +_Balliol Scholars, 1840-1843_, written, or at least published, +many years later, in 1873:-- + + "The one wide-welcomed for a father's fame, + Entered with free bold step that seemed to claim + Fame for himself, nor on another lean. + + So full of power, yet blithe and debonair, + Rallying his friends with pleasant banter gay, + Or half a-dream chaunting with jaunty air + Great words of Goethe, catch of Beranger, + We see the banter sparkle in his prose, + But knew not then the undertone that flows + So calmly sad, through all his stately lay."[2] + +Like some other persons of much distinction, and a great many of +little or none, he "missed his first," in December 1844; and though he +obtained, three months later, the consolation prize of a Fellowship +(at Oriel, too), he made no post-graduate stay of any length at the +university. The then very general, though even then not universal, +necessity of taking orders before very long would probably in any case +have sent him wandering; for it is clear from the first that his bent +was hopelessly anti-clerical, and he was not merely too honest, but +much too proud a man, to consent to be put in one of the priests' +offices for a morsel of bread. It may well be doubted--though he felt +and expressed not merely in splendid passages of prose and verse for +public perusal, but in private letters quite towards the close of his +life, that passionate attachment which Oxford more than any other +place of the kind inspires--whether he would have been long at home +there as a resident. For the place has at once a certain republicanism +and a certain tyranny about its idea, which could not wholly suit the +aspiring and restless spirit of the author of _Switzerland_. None +of her sons is important to Oxford--the meanest of them has in his +sonship the same quality as the greatest. Now it was very much at Mr +Arnold's heart to be important, and he was not eager to impart or +share his qualities. + +However this may be, there were ample reasons why he should leave the +fold. The Bar (though he was actually called and for many years went +circuit as Marshal to his father-in-law, Mr Justice Wightman) would +have suited him, in practice if not in principle, even less than the +Church; and he had no scientific leanings except a taste for botany. +Although the constantly renewed cries for some not clearly defined +system of public support for men of letters are, as a rule, absurd, +there is no doubt that Mr Arnold was the very man for a sinecure, and +would have justified the existence of Pipe or Hanaper to all +reasonable men. But his political friends had done away with nearly +all such things, and no one of the very few that remained fell to his +lot. His father had died in 1842, but the son served a short +apprenticeship to school-teaching at Rugby, then became private +secretary to Lord Lansdowne, the President of the Council (it is now +that we first meet him as an epistoler), and early in 1851 was +appointed by his chief to an inspectorship of schools. Having now a +livelihood, he married, in June of that year, Frances Lucy Wightman, +daughter of a judge of the Queen's Bench. Their first child, Thomas, +was born on July 6, 1852, and Mr Arnold was now completely estated in +the three positions of husband, father, and inspector of schools, +which occupied--to his great delight in the first two cases, not quite +so in the third--most of his life that was not given to literature. +Some not ungenerous but perhaps rather unnecessary indignation has +been spent upon his "drudgery" and its scanty rewards. It is enough to +say that few men can arrange at their pleasure the quantity and +quality of their work, and that not every man, even of genius, has had +his bread-and-butter secured for life at eight-and-twenty. + +But in the ten or twelve years which had passed since _Alaric at +Rome_, literature itself had been by no means neglected, and in +another twelvemonth after the birth of his first-born, Matthew Arnold +had practically established his claim as a poet by utterances to which +he made comparatively small additions later, though more than half his +life was yet to run. And he had issued one prose exercise in +criticism, of such solidity and force as had not been shown by any +poet since Dryden, except Coleridge. + +These documents can hardly be said to include the Newdigate poem +(_Cromwell_) of 1843: they consist of _The Strayed Reveller and other +Poems_, by "A.," 1849; _Empedocles on Etna, and other Poems_, [still] +by "A.," 1852; and _Poems_ by Matthew Arnold, a new edition, 1853--the +third consisting of the contents of the two earlier, with _Empedocles_ +and a few minor things omitted, but with very important additions, +including _Sohrab and Rustum, The Church of Brou, Requiescat_, and +_The Scholar-Gipsy_. The contents of all three must be carefully +considered, and the consideration may be prefaced by a few words on +_Cromwell_. + +This [Greek: agonisma], like the other, Mr Arnold never included in +any collection of his work; but it was printed at Oxford in the year +of its success, and again at the same place, separately or with other +prize poems, in 1846, 1863, and 1891. It may also be found in the +useful non-copyright edition above referred to. Couched in the +consecrated couplet, but not as of old limited to fifty lines, it is +"good rhymes," as the elder Mr Pope used to say to the younger; but a +prudent taster would perhaps have abstained, even more carefully than +in the case of the _Alaric_, from predicting a real poet in the +author. It is probably better than six Newdigates out of seven at +least, but it has no distinction. The young, but not so very young, +poet--he was as old as Tennyson when he produced his unequal but +wonderful first volume--begins by borrowing Wordsworth's two voices of +the mountain and the sea, shows some impression here and there from +Tennyson's own master-issue, the great collection of 1842, which had +appeared a year before, ventures on an Alexandrine-- + + "Between the barren mountains and the stormy sea" + +--which comes as a pleasant relief, and displays more than once (as he +did afterwards in _Tristram and Iseult_) an uncertain but by no means +infelicitous variety of couplet which he never fully or fairly worked +out, but left for Mr William Morris to employ with success many years +later. Otherwise the thing is good, but negligible. It would have +taken an extremely strong competition, or an extremely incompetent +examiner, to deprive it of the prize; but he must have been a sanguine +man who, in giving the author that prize, expected to receive from him +returns of poetry. + +Yet they came. If we did not know that the middle of this century was +one of the nadirs of English[3] criticism, and if we did not know +further that even good critics often go strangely wrong both in praise +and in blame of new verse, it would be most surprising that _The +Strayed Reveller_ volume should have attracted so little attention. +It is full of faults, but that is part of the beauty of it. Some of +these faults are those which, persevering, prevented Mr Arnold from +attaining a higher position than he actually holds in poetry; but no +critic could know that. There is nothing here worse, or more +necessarily fatal, than many things in Tennyson's 1830 and 1832 +collections: he overwent those, so might Mr Arnold have overgone +these. And the promise--nay, the performance--is such as had been seen +in no verse save Tennyson's, and the almost unnoticed Browning's, for +some thirty years. The title-poem, though it should have pleased even +a severe judge, might have aroused uncomfortable doubts even in an +amiable one. In the first place, its rhymelessness is a caprice, a +will-worship. Except blank verse, every rhymeless metre in English has +on it the curse of the _tour de force_, of the acrobatic. Campion +and Collins, Southey and Shelley, have done great things in it; but +neither _Rose-cheeked Laura_ nor _Evening_, neither the +great things in _Thalaba_ nor the great things in _Queen +Mab_, can escape the charge of being caprices. And caprice, as some +have held, is the eternal enemy of art. + +But the caprice of _The Strayed Reveller_ does not cease with its +rhymelessness. The rhythm and the line-division are also studiously +odd, unnatural, paradoxical. Except for the "poetic diction" of +putting "Goddess" after "Circe" instead of before it, the first stave +is merely a prose sentence, of strictly prosaic though not +inharmonious rhythm. But in this stave there is no instance of the +strangest peculiarity, and what seems to some the worst fault of the +piece, the profusion of broken-up decasyllables, which sometimes +suggest a very "corrupt" manuscript, or a passage of that singular +stuff in the Caroline dramatists which is neither blank verse, nor any +other, nor prose. Here are a few out of many instances-- + + "Is it, then, evening + So soon? [_I see the night-dews + Clustered in thick beads_], dim," etc. + + * * * + ["_When the white dawn first + Through the rough fir-planks. _"] + + * * * + ["_Thanks, gracious One! + Ah! the sweet fumes again._"] + + * * * + ["_They see the Centaurs + In the upper glens._"] + +One could treble these--indeed in one instance (the +sketch of the Indian) the entire stanza of _eleven_ lines, by the +insertion of one "and" only, becomes a smooth blank-verse piece of +_seven_, two of which are indeed hemistichs, and three "weak-ended," +but only such as are frequent in Shakespeare-- + + "They see the Indian drifting, knife in hand, + His frail boat moored to a floating isle--thick-matted + With large-leaved [_and_] low-creeping melon-plants + And the dark cucumber. + He reaps and stows them, drifting, drifting: round him, + Round his green harvest-plot, flow the cool lake-waves, + The mountains ring them." + +Nor, perhaps, though the poem is a pretty one, will it stand criticism +of a different kind much better. Such mighty personages as Ulysses and +Circe are scarcely wanted as mere bystanders and "supers" to an +imaginative young gentleman who enumerates, somewhat promiscuously, a +few of the possible visions of the Gods. There is neither classical, +nor romantic, nor logical justification for any such mild effect of +the dread Wine of Circe: and one is driven to the conclusion that the +author chiefly wanted a frame, after his own fashion, for a set of +disconnected vignettes like those of Tennyson's _Palace of Art_ +and _Dream of Fair Women_. + +But if the title poem is vulnerable, there is plenty of compensation. +The opening sonnet-- + + "Two lessons, Nature, let me learn of thee"-- + +is perhaps rather learnt from Wordsworth, yet it does not fail to +strike the note which fairly differentiates the Arnoldian variety of +Wordsworthianism--the note which rings from _Resignation_ to +_Poor Matthias_, and which is a very curious cross between two +things that at first sight may seem unmarriageable, the Wordsworthian +enthusiasm and the Byronic despair. But of this[4] more when we have +had more of its examples before us. The second piece in the volume +must, or should, have struck--for there is very little evidence that +it did strike--readers of the volume as something at once considerable +and, in no small measure, new. _Mycerinus_, a piece of some 120 +lines or so, in thirteen six-line stanzas and a blank-verse +_coda_, is one of those characteristic poems of this century, +which are neither mere "copies of verses," mere occasional pieces, nor +substantive compositions of the old kind, with at least an attempt at +a beginning, middle, and end. They attempt rather situations than +stories, rather facets than complete bodies of thought, or +description, or character. They supply an obvious way of escape for +the Romantic tendency which does not wish to break wholly with +classical tradition; and above all, they admit of indulgence in that +immense _variety_ which seems to have become one of the chief +devices of modern art, attempting the compliances necessary to gratify +modern taste. + +The Herodotean anecdote of the Egyptian King Mycerinus, his +indignation at the sentence of death in six years as a recompense for +his just rule, and his device of lengthening his days by revelling all +night, is neither an unpromising nor a wholly promising subject. The +foolish good sense of Mr Toots would probably observe--and +justly--that before six years, or six months, or even six days were +over, King Mycerinus must have got very sleepy; and the philosophic +mind would certainly recall the parallel of Cleobis and Biton as to +the best gift for man. Mr Arnold, however, draws no direct moral. The +stanza-part of the poem, the king's expostulation, contains very fine +poetry, and "the note" rings again throughout it, especially in the +couplet-- + + "And prayers, and gifts, and tears, are fruitless all, + _And the night waxes, and the shadows fall_." + +The blank-verse tail-piece is finer still in execution; it is, with +the still finer companion-_coda_ of _Sohrab and Rustum_, the +author's masterpiece in the kind, and it is, like that, an early and +consummate example of Mr Arnold's favourite device of finishing +without a finish, of "playing out the audience," so to speak, with +something healing and reconciling, description, simile, what not, to +relieve the strain of his generally sad philosophy and his often +melancholy themes. + +One may less admire, despite its famous and often-quoted line, + + "Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole," + +the sonnet _To a Friend_, praising Homer and Epictetus and +Sophocles, for it seems to some to have a smatch of priggishness. Nor +am I one of those who think very highly of the much longer _Sick +King in Bokhara_ which (with a fragment of an _Antigone_, +whereof more hereafter) follows, as this sonnet precedes, _The +Strayed Reveller_ itself. There is "the note," again, and I daresay +the orientalism has the exactness of colour on which, as we know from +the _Letters_, Mr Arnold prided himself. Yet the handling of the +piece seems to me prolix and uncertain, and the drift either very +obscure or somewhat unimportant. But about the _Shakespeare_ +sonnet which follows there can be no controversy among the competent. +"Almost adequate" is in such a case the highest praise; and it must be +given. + +The companions of this sonnet are respectable, but do not deserve much +warmer words; and then we turn to a style of poem remarkably different +from anything which the author had yet published and from most of his +subsequent work. It is not unnoteworthy that the batch of poems called +in the later collected editions _Switzerland_, and completed at +last by the piece called _On the Terrace at Berne_, appeared +originally piecemeal, and with no indication of connection. The first +of its numbers is here, _To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender +Leave-taking_. It applies both the note of thought which has been +indicated, and the quality of style which had already disengaged +itself, to the commonest--the greatest--theme of poetry, but to one +which this poet had not yet tried--to Love. Let it be remembered that +the thought has the cast of a strictly pessimist quietism--that the +style aims, if it aims at any single thing, at the reproduction of the +simpler side of classicalism, at an almost prim and quakerish +_elegance_, a sort of childlike grace. There is, however, by no +means any great austerity in the tone: on the contrary, the refrain +(altered later)-- + + "Ere the parting kiss be dry, + Quick! thy tablets, Memory!"-- + +approaches the luscious. It is not easy to decide, and it is perhaps +in both senses impertinent to speculate, whether the "Marguerite" +(whose La Tour-like portrait is drawn in this piece with such relish, +and who is so philosophically left to her fate by her lover on the +Terrace at Berne later) had any live original. She seems a little more +human in some ways than most of those cloud-Junos of the poets, the +heroines of sonnet-sequence and song-string. She herself has a +distinct touch of philosophy, anticipating with nonchalant resignation +the year's severance, and with equally nonchalant anticipation the +time when + + "Some day next year I shall be, + Entering heedless, kissed by thee." + +Her wooer paints her with gusto, but scarcely with ardour; and ends +with the boding note-- + + "Yet, if little stays with man, + Ah! retain we all we can!"-- + +seeming to be at least as doubtful of his own constancy as of hers. +Nor do we meet her again in the volume. The well-known complementary +pieces which make up _Switzerland_ were either not written, or +held back. + +The inferior but interesting _Modern Sappho_, almost the poet's +only experiment in "Moore-ish" method and melody-- + + "They are gone--all is still! Foolish heart, dost thou quiver?"-- + +is a curiosity rather than anything else. The style is ill suited to +the thought; besides, Matthew Arnold, a master at times of blank +verse, and of the statelier stanza, was less often an adept at the +lighter and more rushing lyrical measures. He is infinitely more at +home in the beautiful _New Sirens_, which, for what reason it is +difficult to discover, he never reprinted till many years later, +partly at Mr Swinburne's most judicious suggestion. The scheme is +trochaic, and Mr Arnold (deriving beyond all doubt inspiration from +Keats) was happier than most poets with that charming but difficult +foot. The note is the old one of yearning rather than passionate +melancholy, applied in a new way and put most clearly, though by no +means most poetically, in the lines-- + + "Can men worship the wan features, + The sunk eyes, the wailing tone, + Of unsphered, discrowned creatures, + Souls as little godlike as their own?" + +The answer is, "No," of course; but, as some one informed Mr Arnold +many years later, we knew that before, and it is distressing to be +told it, as we are a little later, with a rhyme of "dawning" and +"morning." Yet the poem is a very beautiful one--in some ways the +equal of its author's best up to this time; at least he had yet done +nothing except the _Shakespeare_ sonnet equal to the splendid +stanza beginning-- + + "And we too, from upland valleys;" + +and the cry of the repentant sirens, punished as they had sinned-- + + "'Come,' you say, 'the hours are dreary.'" + +Yet the strong Tennysonian influence (which the poet rather +ungraciously kicked against in his criticism) shows itself here also; +and we know perfectly well that the good lines-- + + "When the first _rose_ flush was steeping + All the frore peak's _awful_ crown"-- + +are but an unconscious reminiscence of the great ones-- + + "And on the glimmering summit far withdrawn, + God made himself an _awful rose_ of dawn." + +He kept this level, though here following not Tennyson or Keats but +Shelley, in the three ambitious and elaborate lyrics, _The Voice_, _To +Fausta_, and _Stagirius_, fine things, if somehow a little suggestive +of inability on their author's part fully to meet the demands of the +forms he attempts--"the note," in short, expressed practically as well +as in theory. _Stagirius_ in particular wants but a very little to be +a perfect expression of the obstinate questionings of the century; and +yet wanting a little, it wants so much! Others, _To a Gipsy Child_ and +_The Hayswater Boat_ (Mr Arnold never reprinted this), are but faint +Wordsworthian echoes; and thus we come to _The Forsaken Merman_. + +It is, I believe, not so "correct" as it once was to admire this; but +I confess indocility to correctness, at least the correctness which +varies with fashion. _The Forsaken Merman_ is not a perfect poem--it +has _longueurs_, though it is not long; it has those inadequacies, +those incompetences of expression, which are so oddly characteristic +of its author; and his elaborate simplicity, though more at home here +than in some other places, occasionally gives a dissonance. But it is +a great poem--one by itself, one which finds and keeps its own place +in the foreordained gallery or museum, with which every true lover of +poetry is provided, though he inherits it by degrees. No one, I +suppose, will deny its pathos; I should be sorry for any one who fails +to perceive its beauty. The brief picture of the land, and the fuller +one of the sea, and that (more elaborate still) of the occupations of +the fugitive, all have their own charm. But the triumph of the piece +is in one of those metrical _coups_ which give the triumph of all the +greatest poetry, in the sudden change from the slower movements of the +earlier stanzas or strophes to the quicker sweep of the famous +conclusion-- + + "The salt tide rolls seaward, + Lights shine from the town"-- + +to + + "She left lonely for ever + The kings of the sea." + +Here the poet's poetry has come to its own. + +_In Utrumque Paratus_ sounds the note again, and has one exceedingly +fine stanza:-- + + "Thin, thin the pleasant human noises grow, + And faint the city gleams; + Rare the lone pastoral huts--marvel not thou! + The solemn peaks but to the stars are known, + But to the stars, and the cold lunar beams; + Alone the sun arises, and alone + Spring the great streams." + +But _Resignation_, the last poem in the book, goes far higher. Again, +it is too long; and, as is not the case in the _Merman_, or even in +_The Strayed Reveller_ itself, the _general_ drift of the poem, the +allegory (if it be an allegory) of the two treadings of "the self-same +road" with Fausta and so forth, is unnecessarily obscure, and does not +tempt one to spend much trouble in penetrating its obscurity. But the +splendid passage beginning-- + + "The Poet to whose mighty heart," + +and ending-- + + "His sad lucidity of soul," + +has far more interest than concerns the mere introduction, in this +last line itself, of one of the famous Arnoldian catchwords of later +years. It has far more than lies even in its repetition, with fuller +detail, of what has been called the author's main poetic note of +half-melancholy contemplation of life. It has, once more, the interest +of _poetry_--of poetical presentation, which is independent of any +subject or intention, which is capable of being adapted perhaps to +all, certainly to most, which lies in form, in sound, in metre, in +imagery, in language, in suggestion--rather than in matter, in sense, +in definite purpose or scheme. + +It is one of the heaviest indictments against the criticism of the +mid-nineteenth century that this remarkable book--the most remarkable +first book of verse that appeared between Tennyson's and Browning's in +the early thirties and _The Defence of Guenevere_ in 1858--seems to +have attracted next to no notice at all. It received neither the +ungenerous and purblind, though not wholly unjust, abuse which in the +long--run did so much good to Tennyson himself, nor the absurd and +pernicious bleatings of praise which have greeted certain novices of +late years. It seems to have been simply let alone, or else made the +subject of quite insignificant comments. + +In the same year (1849) Mr Arnold was represented in the _Examiner_ of +July 21 by a sonnet to the Hungarian nation, which he never included +in any book, and which remained peacefully in the dust-bin till a +reference in his _Letters_ quite recently set the ruthless reprinter +on its track. Except for an ending, itself not very good, the thing is +quite valueless: the author himself says to his mother, "it is not +worth much." And three years passed before he followed up his first +volume with a second, which should still more clearly have warned the +intelligent critic that here was somebody, though such a critic would +not have been guilty of undue hedging if he had professed himself +still unable to decide whether a new great poet had arisen or not. + +This volume was _Empedodes on Etna and other Poems_, [still] _By A._ +London: Fellowes, 1852. It contained two attempts--the title-piece and +_Tristram and Iseult_--much longer and more ambitious than anything +that the poet had yet done, and thirty-three smaller poems, of which +two--_Destiny_ and _Courage_--were never reprinted. It was again very +unequal--perhaps more so than the earlier volume, though it went +higher and oftener high. But the author became dissatisfied with it +very shortly after its appearance in the month of October, and +withdrew it when, as is said, less than fifty copies had been sold. + +One may perhaps not impertinently doubt whether the critical reason, +_v. infra_--in itself a just and penetrating one, as well as admirably +expressed--which, in the Preface of the 1853 collection, the poet gave +for its exclusion (save in very small part) from that volume tells the +whole truth. At any rate, I think most good judges quarrel with +_Empedodes_, not because the situation is unmanageable, but because +the poet has not managed it. The contrast, in dramatic trio, of the +world-worn and disappointed philosopher, the practical and rather +prosaic physician, and the fresh gifts and unspoilt gusto of the +youthful poet, is neither impossible nor unpromising. Perhaps, as a +situation, it is a little nearer than Mr Arnold quite knew to that of +_Paracelsus_, and it is handled with less force, if with more +clearness, than Browning's piece. But one does not know what is more +amiss with it than is amiss with most of its author's longer +pieces--namely, that neither story nor character-drawing was his +_forte_, that the dialogue is too colourless, and that though the +description is often charming, it is seldom masterly. As before, there +are jarring rhymes--"school" and "oracle," "Faun" and "scorn." +Empedocles himself is sometimes dreadfully tedious; but the part of +Callicles throughout is lavishly poetical. Not merely the show +passages--that which the Roman father, + + "Though young, intolerably severe," + +saved from banishment and retained by itself in the 1853 volume, as +_Cadmus and Harmonia_, and the beautiful lyrical close,--but the +picture of the highest wooded glen on Etna, and the Flaying of +Marsyas, are delightful things. + +_Tristram and Iseult_, with fewer good patches, has a greater +technical interest. It is only one, but it is the most remarkable, of +the places where we perceive in Mr Arnold one of the most curious of +the notes of transition-poets. They will not frankly follow another's +metrical form, and they cannot strike out a new one for themselves. In +this piece the author--most attractively to the critic, if not always +quite satisfactorily to the reader--makes for, and flits about, +half-a-dozen different forms of verse. Now it is the equivalenced +octosyllable of the Coleridgean stamp rather than of Scott's or +Byron's; now trochaic decasyllabics of a rather rococo kind; and once +at least a splendid anapaestic couplet, which catches the ear and +clings to the memory for a lifetime-- + + "What voices are these on the clear night air? + What lights in the court? What steps on the stair?" + +But the most interesting experiment by far is in the rhymed heroic, +which appears fragmentarily in the first two parts and substantively +in the third. The interest of this, which (one cannot but regret it) +Mr Arnold did not carry further, relapsing on a stiff if stately blank +verse, is not merely intrinsic, but both retrospective and +prospective. It is not the ordinary "stopped" eighteenth-century +couplet at all; nor the earlier one of Drayton and Daniel. It is the +"enjambed," very mobile, and in the right hands admirably fluent and +adaptable couplet, which William Browne and Chamberlayne practised in +the early and middle seventeenth century, which Leigh Hunt revived and +taught to Keats, and of which, later than Mr Arnold himself, Mr +William Morris was such an admirable practitioner. Its use here is +decidedly happy; and the whole of this part shows in Mr Arnold a +temporary Romantic impulse, which again we cannot but regret that he +did not obey. The picture-work of the earlier lines is the best he +ever did. The figure of Iseult with the White Hands stands out with +the right Prae-Raphaelite distinctness and charm; and the story of +Merlin and Vivian, with which, in the manner so dear to him, he +diverts the attention of the reader from the main topic at the end, is +beautifully told. For attaching quality on something like a large +scale I should put this part of _Tristram and Iseult_ much above both +_Sohrab and Rustum_ and _Balder Dead_; but the earlier parts are not +worthy of it, and the whole, like _Empedocles_, is something of a +failure, though both poems afford ample consolation in passages. + +The smaller pieces, however, could have saved the volume had their +larger companions been very much weaker. The _Memorial Verses_ on +Wordsworth (published first in _Fraser_) have taken their place once +for all. If they have not the poetical beauty in different ways of +Carew on Donne, of Dryden on Oldham, even of Tickell upon Addison, of +_Adonais_ above all, of Wordsworth's own beautiful _Effusion_ on the +group of dead poets in 1834, they do not fall far short even in this +respect. And for adequacy of meaning, not unpoetically expressed, they +are almost supreme. If Mr Arnold's own unlucky and maimed definition +of poetry as "a criticism of life" had been true, they would be poetry +in quintessence; and, as it is, they are poetry. + +Far more so is the glorious _Summer Night_, which came near the middle +of the book. There is a cheering doctrine of mystical optimism which +will have it that a sufficiently intense devotion to any ideal never +fails of at least one moment of consummate realisation and enjoyment. +Such a moment was granted to Matthew Arnold when he wrote _A Summer +Night_. Whether that rather vague life-philosophy of his, that +erection of a melancholy agnosticism _plus_ asceticism into a creed, +was anything more than a not ungraceful or undignified will-worship of +Pride, we need not here argue out. But we have seen how faithfully the +note of it rings through the verse of these years. And here it rings +not only faithfully, but almost triumphantly. The lips are touched at +last: the eyes are thoroughly opened to see what the lips shall speak: +the brain almost unconsciously frames and fills the adequate and +inevitable scheme. And, as always at these right poetic moments, the +minor felicities follow the major. The false rhymes are nowhere; the +imperfect phrases, the little sham simplicities or pedantries, hide +themselves; and the poet is free, from the splendid opening landscape +through the meditative exposition, and the fine picture of the +shipwreck, to the magnificent final invocation of the "Clearness +divine!" + +His freedom, save once, is not so unquestionably exhibited in the +remarkable group of poems--the future constituents of the +_Switzerland_ group, but still not classified under any special +head--which in the original volume chiefly follow _Empedocles_, with +the batch later called "Faded Leaves" to introduce them. It is, +perhaps, if such things were worth attempting at all, an argument for +supposing some real undercurrent of fact or feeling in them, that they +are not grouped at their first appearance, and that some of them are +perhaps designedly separated from the rest. Even the name "Marguerite" +does not appear in _A Farewell_; though nobody who marked as well as +read, could fail to connect it with the _To my Friends_ of the former +volume. We are to suppose, it would appear, that the twelvemonth has +passed, and that Marguerite's anticipation of the renewed kiss is +fulfilled in the first stanzas. But the lover's anticipation, too, is +fulfilled, though as usual not quite as he made it; he wearies of his +restless and yet unmasterful passion; he rather muses and morals in +his usual key on the "way of a man with a maid" than complains or +repines. And then we go off for a time from Marguerite, though not +exactly from Switzerland, in the famous "_Obermann_" stanzas, a +variation of the Wordsworth memorial lines, melodious, but a very +little _impotent_--the English utterance of what Sainte-Beuve, I +think, called "the discouraged generation of 1850." Now mere +discouragement, except as a passing mood, though extremely natural, is +also a little contemptible--pessimism-and-water, mere peevishness to +the "fierce indignation," mere whining compared with the great ironic +despair. As for _Consolation_, which in form as in matter strongly +resembles part of the _Strayed Reveller_, I must say, at the risk of +the charge of Philistinism, that I cannot see why most of it should +not have been printed as prose. In fact, it would be a very bold and +astonishingly ingenious person who, not knowing the original, +perceived any verse-division in this-- + + "The bleak, stern hour, whose severe moments I would annihilate, + is passed by others in warmth, light, joy." + +Nor perhaps can very much be said for some of the other things. The +sonnet afterwards entitled _The World's Triumphs_ is not strong; +_The Second Best_ is but "a chain of extremely valuable +thoughts"; _Revolution_ a conceit. _The Youth of Nature_ and +_The Youth of Man_ do but take up less musically the _threnos_ for +Wordsworth. But _Morality_ is both rhyme and poetry; _Progress_ is at +least rhyme; and _The Future_, though rhymeless again, is the best of +all Mr Arnold's waywardnesses of this kind. It is, however, in the +earlier division of the smaller poems--those which come between +_Empedocles_ and _Tristram_--that the interest is most concentrated, +and that the best thing--better as far as its subject is concerned +even than the _Summer Night_--appears. For though all does _not_ +depend upon the subject, yet of two poems equally good in other ways, +that which has the better subject will be the better. Here we have the +bulk of the "Marguerite" or _Switzerland_ poems--in other words, we +leave the windy vagaries of mental indigestion and come to the real +things--Life and Love. + +_The River_ does not name any one, though the "arch eyes" +identify Marguerite; and _Excuse_, _Indifference_, and _Too +Late_ are obviously of the company. But none of these is exactly of +the first class. We grow warmer with _On the Rhine_, containing, +among other things, the good distich-- + + "Eyes too expressive to lie blue, + Too lovely to be grey"; + +on which Mr Swinburne gave a probably unconscious _scholion_ as +well as variation in his own-- + + "Those eyes, the greenest of things blue, + The bluest of things grey." + +The intense pathos, which the poet could rarely "let himself go" +sufficiently to reach, together with the seventeenth-century touch +which in English not unfrequently rewards the self-sacrifice necessary +to scholarly poets in such abandonment, appears in _Longing_; +_The Lake_ takes up the faint thread of story gracefully enough; +and _Parting_ does the same with more importance in a combination, +sometimes very effective, of iambic couplets and anapaestic strophes, +and with a touch of direct if not exalted nature in its revelation of +that terrible thing, retrospective jealousy, in the lover. Woe to the +man who allows himself to think-- + + "To the lips! ah! of others + Those lips have been pressed, + And others, ere I was, + Were clasped to that breast," + +and who does not at once exorcise the demon with the fortunately +all-potent spell of _Bocca bacciata_, and the rest! _Absence_ and +_Destiny_ show him in the same Purgatory; and it is impossible to say +that he has actually escaped in the crowning poem of the series--the +crowning-point perhaps of his poetry, the piece beginning + + "Yes! in the sea of life enisled." + +It is neither uninteresting nor unimportant that this exquisite piece, +by a man's admiration of which (for there are some not wholly lost, +who do _not_ admire it) his soundness in the Catholic Faith of +poetry may be tested, perhaps as well as by any other, has borne more +than one or two titles, It is in the 1852 volume, _To Marguerite. In +returning a volume of the letters of Ortis_. In 1853 it became +_Isolation_, its best name; and later it took the much less +satisfactory one of _To Marguerite--continued_, being annexed to +another. + +_Isolation_ is preferable for many reasons; not least because the +actual Marguerite appears nowhere in the poem, and, except in the +opening monosyllable, can hardly be said to be even rhetorically +addressed. The poet's affection--it is scarcely passion--is there, but +in transcendence: he meditates more than he feels. And that function +of the riddle of the painful earth which Lucretius, thousands of years +ago, put in his grim _Nequicquam!_ which one of Mr Arnold's own +contemporaries formulated with less magnificence and more popularity, +but still with music and truth in _Strangers Yet_--here receives +almost its final poetical expression. The image--the islands in the +sea--is capitally projected in the first stanza; it is exquisitely +amplified in the second; the moral comes with due force in the third; +and the whole winds up with one of the great poetic phrases of the +century--one of the "jewels five [literally five!] words long" of +English verse--a phrase complete and final, with epithets in unerring +cumulation-- + + "The unplumb'd, salt, estranging sea." + +_Human Life_, no ill thing in itself, reads a little weakly after +_Isolation_; but _Despondency_ is a pretty piece of melancholy, and, +with a comfortable stool, will suit a man well. In the sonnet, _When I +shall be divorced_, Mr Arnold tried the Elizabethan vein with less +success than in his Shakespeare piece; and _Self-Deception_ and _Lines +written by a Death-Bed_, with some beauty have more monotony. The +closing lines of the last are at the same time the moral of the book +and the formula of the Arnoldian "note"-- + + "Calm's not life's crown, though calm is well. + 'Tis all perhaps which man acquires, + But 'tis not what our youth desires." + +Again, we remember some one's parody-remonstrance thirty years later, +and again we may think that the condemnation which Mr Arnold himself +was soon to pronounce upon _Empedocles_ is rather disastrously +far-reaching, while even this phrase is a boomerang. Musical and +philosophical despair is one of the innumerable strings of the poetic +lyre; but 'tis not what our youth, or our age either, desires for a +monochord. + +The remarkable manifesto just referred to was not long delayed. +Whatever may have been his opinion as to the reception of the two +volumes "by A," he made up his mind, a year after the issue and +withdrawal of the second, to put forth a third, with his name, and +containing, besides a full selection from the other two, fresh +specimens of the greatest importance. In the two former there had been +no avowed "purpose"; here, not merely were the contents sifted on +principle, the important _Empedocles_ as well as some minor +things being omitted: not merely did some of the new numbers, +especially _Sohrab and Rustum_, directly and intentionally +illustrate the: poet's theories, but those theories themselves were +definitely put in a _Preface_, which is the most important +critical document issued in England for something like a generation, +and which, as prefixed by a poet to his poetry, admits no competitors +in English, except some work of Dryden's and some of Wordsworth's. + +Beginning with his reasons for discarding _Empedocles_, reasons +which he sums up in a sentence, famous, but too important not to +require citation at least in a note,[5] he passes suddenly to the +reasons which were _not_ his, and of which he makes a good +rhetorical starting-point for his main course. The bad critics of that +day had promulgated the doctrine, which they maintained till a time +within the memory of most men who have reached middle life, though the +error has since in the usual course given way to others--that "the +Poet must leave the exhausted past and draw his subjects from matters +of present import." This was the genuine +"_Times_-_v._-all-the-works-of-Thucydides" fallacy of the +mid-nineteenth century, the fine flower of Cobdenism, the heartfelt +motto of Philistia--as Philistia then was. For other times other +Philistines, and Ekron we have always with us, ready, as it was once +said, "to bestow its freedom in pinchbeck boxes" on its elect. + +This error Mr Arnold has no difficulty in laying low at once; but +unluckily his swashing blow carries him with it, and he falls headlong +into fresh error himself. "What," he asks very well, "are the eternal +objects of Poetry, among all nations and at all times?" And he +answers--equally well, though not perhaps with impregnable logical +completeness and accuracy--"They are actions, human actions; +possessing an inherent interest in themselves, and which are to be +communicated in an interesting manner by the art of the Poet." Here he +tells the truth, but not the whole truth; he should have added +"thoughts and feelings" to "actions," or he deprives Poetry of half +her realm. But he is so far sufficient against his Harapha (for at +that date there were no critical Goliaths about). Human action +_does_ possess an "inherent," an "eternal," poetical interest and +capacity in itself. That interest, that capacity, is incapable of +"exhaustion"--nay (as Mr Arnold, though with bad arguments as well as +good, urges later), it is, on the whole, a likelier subject for the +poet when it is old, because it is capable of being grasped and +presented more certainly. But the defender hastens to indulge in more +than one of those dangerous sallies from his trenches which have been +fatal to so many heroes. He proclaims that the poet cannot "make an +intrinsically inferior action equally delightful with a more excellent +one by his treatment of it," forgetting that, until the action is +presented, we do not know whether it is "inferior" or not. He asks, +"What modern poem presents personages as interesting as Achilles, +Prometheus, Clytemnestra, Dido?" unsuspicious, or perhaps reckless, of +the fact that not a few men, who admire and know the classics quite as +well as he does, will cheerfully take up his challenge at any weapons +he likes to name, and with a score of instances for his quartette. It +is true that, thanks to the ineptitude of his immediate antagonists, +he recovers himself not ill by cleverly selecting the respectable +Hermann and Dorothea, the stagy-romantic Childe Harold, the creature +called "Jocelyn," and the shadowy or scrappy personages of the +_Excursion_, to match against his four. But this is manifestly +unfair. To bring Lamartine and Wordsworth in as personage-makers is +only honest rhetorically (a kind of honesty on which Wamba or +Launcelot Gobbo shall put the gloss for us). Nay, even those to whom +Goethe and Byron are not the ideal of modern poetry may retort that +Mephistopheles--that even Faust himself--is a much more "interesting" +person than the sulky invulnerable son of Thetis, while Gulnare, +Parisina, and others are not much worse than Dido. But these are mere +details. The main purpose of the _Preface_ is to assert in the most +emphatic manner the Aristotelian (or partly Aristotelian) doctrine +that "All depends on the subject," and to connect the assertion with a +further one, of which even less proof is offered, that "the Greeks +understood this far better than we do," and that they were _also_ the +unapproachable masters of "the grand style." These positions, which, +to do Mr Arnold justice, he maintained unflinchingly to his dying day, +are supported, not exactly by argument, but by a great deal of +ingenious and audacious illustration and variation of statement, even +Shakespeare, even Keats, being arraigned for their wicked refusal to +subordinate "expression" to choice and conception of subject. The +merely Philistine modernism is cleverly set up again that it may be +easily smitten down; the necessity of Criticism, and of the study of +the ancients in order to it, is most earnestly and convincingly +championed; and the piece ends with its other famous sentence about +"the wholesome regulative laws of Poetry" and their "eternal enemy, +Caprice." + +As Mr Arnold's critical position will be considered as a whole later, +it would be waste of time to say very much more of this first +manifesto of his. It need only be observed that he might have been +already, as he often was later, besought to give some little notion of +what "the _grand style_" was; that, true and sound as is much of +the Preface, it is not a little exposed to the damaging retort, "Yes: +this is _your_ doxy, and she seems fair to you, no doubt; but so +does ours seem fair to us." Moreover, the "all-depends-on-the-subject" +doctrine here, as always, swerves from one fatal difficulty. If, in +what pleases poetically, poetical expression is always present, while +in only some of what pleases poetically is the subject at the required +height, is it not illogical to rule out, as the source of the poetic +pleasure, that which is always present in favour of that which is +sometimes absent? + +We know from the _Letters_--and we should have been able to +divine without them--that _Sohrab and Rustum_, the first in +order, the largest in bulk, and the most ambitious in scheme of the +poems which appeared for the first time in the new volume, was written +in direct exemplification of the theories of the _Preface_. The +theme is old, and though not "classical" in place, is thoroughly so in +its nature, being the story of a combat between a father and a son, +who know not each other till too late, of the generosity of the son, +of the final triumph of the father, of the _anagnorisis_, with +the resignation of the vanquished and the victor's despair. The medium +is blank verse, of a partly but not wholly Miltonic stamp, very +carefully written, and rising at the end into a really magnificent +strain, with the famous picture of "the majestic river" Oxus floating +on regardless of these human woes, to where the stars + + "Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea." + +Even here, it is true, the Devil's Advocate may ask whether this, like +the _Mycerinus_ close, that of _Empedocles_, and others, +especially one famous thing, to which we shall come presently, is not +more of a purple tail-patch, a "tag," a "curtain," than of a +legitimate and integral finale. It is certain that Mr Arnold, +following the Greeks in intention no doubt, if not quite so closely as +he intended, was very fond of these "curtains"--these little +rhetorical reconciliations and soothings for the reader. But this is +the most in place of any of them, and certainly the noblest +_tirade_ that its author has left. + +Most of the new poems here are at a level but a little lower than this +part of _Sohrab and Rustum_, while some of them are even above it +as wholes. _Philomela_ is beautiful, in spite of the obstinate +will-worship of its unrhymed Pindaric: the _Stanzas to the Memory of +Edward Quillinan_ are really pathetic, though slightly irritating +in their "sweet simplicity"; and if _Thekla's Answer_ is nothing +particular, _The Neckan_ nothing but a weaker doublet of the +_Merman, A Dream_ is noteworthy in itself, and as an outlier of +the _Marguerite_ group. Then we have three things, of which the +first is, though unequal, great at the close, while the other two rank +with the greatest things Mr Arnold ever did. These are _The Church +of Brou_, _Requiescat_, and _The Scholar-Gipsy_. + +If, as no critic ever can, the critic could thoroughly discover the +secret of the inequality of _The Church of Brou_, he might, like +the famous pedant, "put away" Mr Arnold "fully conjugated in his +desk." The poem is in theme and scheme purely Romantic, and +"nineteenth century" in its looking back to a simple and pathetic +story of the Middle Age--love, bereavement, and pious resignation. It +is divided into three parts. The first, in trochaic ballad metre, +telling the story, is one of the poet's weakest things. You may oft +see as good in Helen Maria Williams and the Delia Cruscans. The +second, describing the church where the duke and duchess sleep, in an +eight-line stanza of good fashion, is satisfactory but nothing more. +And then the third, after a manner hardly paralleled save in Crashaw's +_Flaming Heart_, breaks from twaddle and respectable verse into a +rocket-rush of heroic couplets, scattering star-showers of poetry all +over and round the bewildered reader. It is artifice rather than art, +perhaps, to lisp and drawl, that, when you _do_ speak out, your +speech may be the more effective. But hardly anything can make one +quarrel with such a piece of poetry as that beginning-- + + "So rest, for ever rest, O princely pair!" + +and ending-- + + "The rustle of the eternal rain of Love." + +On the other hand, in _Requiescat_ there is not a false note, +unless it be the dubious word "vasty" in the last line; and even that +may shelter itself under the royal mantle of Shakespeare. The poet has +here achieved what he too often fails in, the triple union of +simplicity, pathos, and (in the best sense) elegance. The dangerous +repetitions of "roses, roses," "tired, tired," &c., come all right; +and above all he has the flexibility and quiver of metre that he too +often lacks. His trisyllabic interspersions--the leap in the vein that +makes iambic verse alive and passionate--are as happy as they can be, +and the relapse into the uniform dissyllabic gives just the right +contrast. He must be [Greek: e therion e theos]--and whichever he +be, he is not to be envied--who can read _Requiescat_ for the +first or the fiftieth time without mist in the eyes and without a +catch in the voice. + +But the greatest of these--the greatest by far--is +_The Scholar-Gipsy_. I have read--and that not once only, nor +only in the works of unlettered and negligible persons--expressions of +irritation at the local Oxonian colour. This is surely amazing. One +may not be an Athenian, and never have been at Athens, yet be able to +enjoy the local colour of the _Phaedrus_. One may not be an +Italian, and never have been in Italy, yet find the _Divina +Commedia_ made not teasing but infinitely vivid and agreeable by +Dante's innumerable references to his country, Florentine and general. +That some keener thrill, some nobler gust, may arise in the reading of +the poem to those who have actually watched + + "The line of festal light in Christ Church Hall" + +from above Hinksey, who know the Fyfield elm in May, and have "trailed +their fingers in the stripling Thames" at Bablockhithe,--may be +granted. But in the name of Bandusia and of Gargarus, what offence can +these things give to any worthy wight who by his ill luck has not seen +them with eyes? The objection is so apt to suggest a suspicion, as +illiberal almost as itself, that one had better not dwell on it. + +Let us hope that there are after all few to whom it has presented +itself--that most, even if they be not sons by actual matriculation of +Oxford, feel that, as of other "Cities of God," they are citizens of +her by spiritual adoption, and by the welcome accorded in all such +cities to God's children. But if the scholar had been an alumnus of +Timbuctoo, and for Cumnor and Godstow had been substituted strange +places in _-wa_ and _-ja_, I cannot think that, even to +those who are of Oxford, the intrinsic greatness of this noble poem +would be much affected, though it might lose a separable charm. For it +has everything--a sufficient scheme, a definite meaning and purpose, a +sustained and adequate command of poetical presentation, and passages +and phrases of the most exquisite beauty. Although it begins as a +pastoral, the mere traditional and conventional frippery of that form +is by no means so prominent in it as in the later (and, I think, less +consummate) companion and sequel _Thyrsis_. With hardly an +exception, the poet throughout escapes in his phraseology the two main +dangers which so constantly beset him--too great stiffness and too +great simplicity. His "Graian" personification is not overdone; his +landscape is exquisite; the stately stanza not merely sweeps, but +sways and swings, with as much grace as state. And therefore the +Arnoldian "note"--the special form of the _maladie du siecle_ +which, as we have seen, this poet chooses to celebrate--acquires for +once the full and due poetic expression and music, both symphonic and +in such special clangours as the never-to-be-too-often-quoted +distich-- + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade"-- + +which marks the highest point of the composition. + +The only part on which there may be some difference between admirers +is the final simile of the Tyrian trader. This finishes off the piece +in nineteen lines, of which the poet was--and justly--proud, which are +quite admirable by themselves, but which cannot perhaps produce any +very clear evidences of right to be where they are. No ingenuity can +work out the parallel between the "uncloudedly joyous" scholar who is +bid avoid the palsied, diseased _enfants du siecle_, and the +grave Tyrian who was indignant at the competition of the merry Greek, +and shook out more sail to seek fresh markets. It is, once more, +simply an instance of Mr Arnold's fancy for an end-note of relief, of +cheer, of pleasant contrast. On his own most rigid principles, I fear +it would have to go as a mere sewn-on patch of purple: on mine, I +welcome it as one of the most engaging passages of a poem delightful +throughout, and at its very best the equal of anything that was +written in its author's lifetime, fertile as that was in poetry. + +He himself, though he was but just over thirty when this poem +appeared, and though his life was to last for a longer period than had +passed since his birth to 1853, was to make few further contributions +to poetry itself. The reasons of this comparative sterility are +interesting, and not quite so obvious as they may appear. It is true, +indeed,--it is an arch-truth which has been too rarely +recognised,--that something like complete idleness, or at any rate +complete freedom from regular mental occupation, is necessary to the +man who is to do poetic work great in quality and in quantity at once. +The hardest occupation--and Mr Arnold's, though hard, was not exactly +that--will indeed leave a man sufficient time, so far as mere time is +concerned, to turn out as much verse as the most fertile of poets has +ever produced. But then that will scarcely do. The Muses are +feminine--and it has been observed that you cannot make up even to the +most amiable and reasonable of that sex for refusing to attend to her +at the minute when she wants _you_, by devoting even hours, even days, +when you are at leisure for _her_. To put the thing more seriously, +though perhaps not more truly, the human brain is not so constituted +that you can ride or drive or "train" from school to school, examining +as you go, for half-a-dozen or half-a-score hours a-day, or that you +can devote the same time to the weariest and dreariest of all +businesses, the reading of hundreds of all but identical answers to +the same stock questions, and yet be fresh and fertile for imaginative +composition. The nearest contradictory instances to this proposition +are those of Scott and Southey, and they are, in more ways than one or +two, very damaging instances--exceptions which, in a rather horrible +manner, do prove the rule. To less harassing, and especially less +peremptory, work than Mr Arnold's, as well as far more literary in +kind, Scott sacrificed the minor literary graces, Southey immolated +the choicer fruits of genius which he undoubtedly possessed the power +of producing; and both "died from the top downward." + +But there was something more than this. Mr Arnold's poetic ambition, +as we have seen, did not aim at very long and elaborate works. His +forte was the occasional piece--which might still suggest itself and +be completed--which, as we shall see, did sometimes suggest itself and +was completed--in the intervals, the holidays, the relaxations of his +task. And if these lucid and lucent intervals, though existent, were +so rare, their existence and their rarity together suggest that +something more than untoward circumstance is to blame for the fact +that they did not show themselves oftener. A full and constant tide of +inspiration is imperative; it will not be denied; it may kill the poet +if he cannot or will not give vent to it, but it will not be patient +of repression--quietly content to appear now and then, even on such +occasions as the deaths of a Clough and a Stanley. Nor is it against +charity or liberality, while it is in the highest degree consonant +with reason and criticism, to infer that Mr Arnold's poetic vein was +not very full-blooded, that it was patient of refusal to indulge it, +that his poetry, in nearly the happiest of his master's phrases, was +not exactly "inevitable," despite the exquisiteness of its quality on +occasion. + +It is fortunate for the biographer that this earliest part of Mr +Arnold's life is so fertile in poetry, for otherwise, in the dearth of +information, it would be a terribly barren subject. The thirty years +of life yield us hardly twenty pages of letters, of which the first, +with its already cited sketch of Laleham, is perhaps the most +interesting. At the Trafalgar Square riots of March 1848 the writer is +convinced that "the hour of the hereditary peerage and eldest sonship +and immense properties has struck"; sees "a wave of more than American +vulgarity, moral, intellectual, and social, preparing to break over +us"; and already holds that strange delusion of his that "the French +are the most civilised of European peoples." He develops this on the +strength of "the intelligence of their idea-moved classes" in a letter +to his sister; meets Emerson in April; goes to a Chartist +"convention," and has a pleasant legend for Miss Martineau that the +late Lord Houghton "refused to be sworn in as a special constable, +that he might be free to assume the post of President of the Republic +at a moment's notice." He continues to despair of his country as +hopelessly as the Tuxford waiter;[6] finds Bournemouth "a very stupid +place"--which is distressing; it is a stupid place enough now, but it +was not then: "a great moorland covered with furze and low pine coming +down to the sea" could never be that--and meets Miss Bronte, "past +thirty and plain, with expressive grey eyes though." The rest we must +imagine. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The editor glosses this variously spelt and etymologically +puzzling word "landing-stage." But unless I mistake, a "kempshott," +"campshed," or "campshedding" is not a landing-stage (though it helps +to make one) so much as a river-wall of stakes and planks, put to +guard the bank against floods, the wash of barges, &c. + +[2] _Glen Desseray and other Poems_. By John Campbell Shairp, +London, 1888. P. 218. + +[3] This statement may seem too sweeping, especially as there is +neither room nor occasion for justifying it fully. Let us only +indicate, as among the heads of such a justification, the following +sins of English criticism between 1840-1860,--the slow and reluctant +acceptance even of Tennyson, even of Thackeray; the obstinate refusal +to give Browning, even after _Bells and Pomegranates_, a fair +hearing; the recalcitrance to Carlyle among the elder, and Mr Ruskin +among the younger, innovators in prose; the rejection of a book of +erratic genius like _Lavengro_; the ignoring of work of such +combined intrinsic beauty and historic importance as _The Defence of +Guenevere_ and FitzGerald's _Omar Khayyam_. For a sort of +quintessence of literary Philistinism, see the advice of Richard Ford +(himself no Philistine) to George Borrow, in Professor Knapp's +_Life_ of the latter, i. 387. + +[4] This "undertone," as Mr Shairp calls it. + +[5] "What, then, are the situations, from the representation of which, +though accurate, no poetical enjoyment can be derived? They are those +in which the suffering finds no vent in action; in which a continuous +state of mental distress is prolonged, unrelieved by incident, hope, +or resistance; in which there is everything to be endured, nothing to +be done. In such situations there is inevitably something morbid, in +the description of them something monotonous. When they occur in +actual life, they are painful, not tragic; the representation of them +in poetry is painful also." + +[6] "The Tuxford waiter desponds exactly as you do."--_Sydney Smith +to Jeffrey_. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +LIFE FROM 1851-62--SECOND SERIES OF _POEMS_--_MEROPE_--_ON TRANSLATING +HOMER_. + + +We must now return a little and give some account of Mr Arnold's +actual life, from a period somewhat before that reached at the end of +the last chapter. The account need not be long, for the life, as has +been said, was not in the ordinary sense eventful; but it is +necessary, and can be in this chapter usefully interspersed with an +account of his work, which, for nine of the eleven years we shall +cover, was, though interesting, of much less interest than that of +those immediately before and those immediately succeeding. + +One understands at least part of the reason for the gradual drying up +of his poetic vein from a sentence of his in a letter of 1858, when he +and his wife at last took a house in Chester Square: "It will be +something to unpack one's portmanteau for the first time since I was +married, nearly seven years ago." "Something," indeed; and one's only +wonder is how he, and still more Mrs Arnold (especially as they now +had three children), could have endured the other thing so long. There +is no direct information in the _Letters_ as to the reason of +this nomadic existence, the only headquarters of which appear to have +been the residence of Mrs Arnold's father, the judge, in Eaton Place, +with flights to friends' houses and to lodgings at the places of +inspection and others, especially Dover and Brighton. And guesswork is +nowhere more unprofitable than in cases where private matters of +income, taste, and other things are concerned. But it certainly would +appear, though I have no positive information on the subject, that in +the early days of State interference with education "My Lords" managed +matters with an equally sublime disregard of the comfort of their +officials and the probable efficiency of the system.[1] + +Till I noticed the statement quoted opposite, I was quite unable to +construct any reasonable theory from such a passage as that in a +letter of December 1852[2] and from others which show us Mr Arnold in +Lincolnshire, in Shropshire, and in the eastern counties. Even with +the elucidation it seems a shockingly bad system. One doubts whether +it be worse for an inspector or for the school inspected by him, that +he should have no opportunity for food from breakfast to four o'clock, +when he staves off death by inviting disease in the shape of the +malefic bun; for him or for certain luckless pupil-teachers that, +after dinner, he should be "in for [them] till ten o'clock." With this +kind of thing when on duty, and no home when off it, a man must begin +to appreciate the Biblical passages about partridges, and the wings of +a dove, and so forth, most heartily and vividly long before seven +years are out, more particularly if he be a man so much given to +domesticity as was Matthew Arnold. + +However, it was, no doubt, not so bad as it looks. They say the rack +is not, though probably no one would care to try. There were holidays; +there was a large circle of hospitable family friends, and strangers +were only too anxious to welcome (and perhaps to propitiate) Her +Majesty's Inspector. The agreeable anomalies of the British legal +system (which, let Dickens and other grumblers say what they like, +have made many good people happy and only a few miserable) allowed Mr +Arnold for many years to act (sometimes while simultaneously +inspecting) as his father-in-law's Marshal on circuit, with varied +company and scenery, little or nothing to do, a handsome fee for doing +it, and no worse rose-leaf in the bed than heavy dinners and hot port +wine, even this being alleviated by "the perpetual haunch of venison." + +For the rest, there are some pleasing miscellaneous touches in the +letters for these years, and there is a certain liveliness of phrase +in them which disappears in the later. It is pleasant to find Mr +Arnold on his first visit to Cambridge (where, like a good +Wordsworthian, he wanted above all things to see the statue of Newton) +saying what all of us say, "I feel that the Middle Ages, and all their +poetry and impressiveness, are in Oxford and not here." In one letter +--written to his sister "K" (Mrs Forster) as his critical letters +usually are--we find three noteworthy criticisms on contemporaries, +all tinged with that slight want of cordial appreciation which +characterises his criticism of this kind throughout (except, perhaps, +in the case of Browning). The first is on Alexander Smith--it was the +time of the undue ascension of the _Life-Drama_ rocket before its +equally undue fall. "It can do me no good [an odd phrase] to be +irritated with that young man, who certainly has an extraordinary +faculty, although I think he is a phenomenon of a very dubious +character." The second, harsher but more definite, is on +_Villette_. "Why is _Villette_ disagreeable? Because the +writer's mind [it is worth remembering that he had met Charlotte +Bronte at Miss Martineau's] contains nothing but hunger, rebellion, +and rage, and therefore that is all she can in fact put into her book. +No fine writing can hide this thoroughly, and it will be fatal to her +in the long-run." The Fates were kinder: and Miss Bronte's mind did +contain something besides these ugly things. But it _was_ her +special weakness that her own thoughts and experiences were +insufficiently mingled and tempered by a wider knowledge of life and +literature. The third is on _My Novel_, which he says he has +"read with great pleasure, though Bulwer's nature is by no means a +perfect one either, which makes itself felt in his book; but his gush, +his better humour, his abundant materials, and his mellowed +constructive skill--all these are great things." One would give many +pages of the _Letters_ for that naif admission that "gush" is "a +great thing." + +A little later (May 1853), all his spare time is being spent on a +poem, which he thinks by far the best thing he has yet done, to wit, +_Sohrab and Rustum_. And he "never felt so sure of himself or so +really and truly at ease as to criticism." He stays in barracks at the +depot of the 17th Lancers with a brother-in-law, and we regret to find +that "Death or Glory" manners do not please him. The instance is a +cornet spinning his rings on the table after dinner. "College does +civilise a boy," he ejaculates, which is true--always providing that +it is a good college. Yet, with that almost unconscious naturalness +which is particularly noticeable in him, he is much dissatisfied with +Oxford--thinks it (as we all do) terribly fallen off since _his_ +days. Perhaps the infusion of Dissenters' sons (it is just at the time +of the first Commission in 1854) may brace its flaccid sinews, though +the middle-class, he confesses, is abominably disagreeable. He sees a +good deal of this poor middle-class in his inspecting tours, and +decides elsewhere about the same time that "of all dull, stagnant, +unedifying _entourages_, that of middle-class Dissent is the +stupidest." It is sad to find that he thinks women utterly unfit for +teachers and lecturers; but Girton and Lady Margaret's may take +comfort, it is "no natural incapacity, but the fault of their +bringing-up." With regard to his second series of _Poems_ (_v. +infra_) he thinks _Balder_ will "consolidate the peculiar sort +of reputation he got by _Sohrab and Rustum_;" and a little later, +in April 1856, we have his own opinion of himself as a poet, whose +charm is "literalness and simplicity." Mr Ruskin is also treated--with +less appreciation than one could wish. + +The second series just mentioned was issued in 1855, a second edition +of the first having been called for the year before. It contained, +like its predecessor, such of his earlier work as he chose to +republish and had not yet republished, chiefly from the +_Empedocles_ volume. But _Empedocles_ itself was only +represented by some scraps, mainly grouped as _The Harp-Player on +Etna. Faded Leaves_, grouped with an addition, here appear: +_Stagirius_ is called _Desire_, and the _Stanzas in Memory +of the Author of Obermann_ now become _Obermann_ simply. Only +two absolutely new poems, a longer and a shorter, appear: the first is +_Balder Dead_, the second _Separation_, the added number of +_Faded Leaves_. This is of no great value. _Balder_ is interesting, +though not extremely good. Its subject is connected with that of +Gray's _Descent of Odin_, but handled much more fully, and in +blank-verse narrative instead of ballad form. The story, like most of +those in Norse mythology, has great capabilities; but it may be +questioned whether the Greek-Miltonic chastened style which the poet +affects is well calculated to bring them out. The death of Nanna, and +the blind fratricide Hoder, are touchingly done, and Hermod's ride to +Hela's realm is stately. But as a whole the thing is rather dim and +tame. + +Mr Arnold's election to the Professorship of Poetry at Oxford (May +1857) was a really notable event, not merely in his own career, but to +some, and no small, extent in the history of English literature during +the nineteenth century. The post is of no great value. I remember the +late Sir Francis Doyle, who was Commissioner of Customs as well as +Professor, saying to me once with a humorous melancholy, "Ah! Eau de +Cologne pays _much_ better than Poetry!" But its duties are far +from heavy, and can be adjusted pretty much as the holder pleases. And +as a position it is unique. It is, though not of extreme antiquity, +the oldest purely literary Professorship in the British Isles; and it +remained, till long after Mr Arnold's time, the only one of the kind +in the two great English Universities. In consequence partly of the +regulation that it can be held for ten years only--nominally five, +with a practically invariable re-election for another five--there is +at least the opportunity, which, since Mr Arnold's own time, has been +generally taken, of maintaining and refreshing the distinction of the +occupant of the chair. Before his time there had been a good many +undistinguished professors, but Warton and Keble, in their different +ways, must have adorned even a Chair of Poetry even in the University +of Oxford. Above all, the entire (or almost entire) freedom of action +left to the Professor should have, and in the case of Keble at least +had already had, the most stimulating effect on minds capable of +stimulation. For the Professor of Poetry at Oxford is neither, like +some Professors, bound to the chariot-wheels of examinations and +courses of set teaching, nor, like others, has he to feel that his +best, his most original, efforts can have no interest, and hardly any +meaning, for all but a small circle of experts. His field is +illimitable; his expatiation in it is practically untrammelled. It is +open to all; full of flowers and fruits that all can enjoy; and it +only depends on his own choice and his own literary and intellectual +powers whether his prelections shall take actual rank as literature +with the very best of that other literature, with the whole of which, +by custom, as an extension from poetry, he is at liberty to deal. In +the first century of the chair the custom of delivering these +Prelections in Latin had been a slight hamper--indeed to this day it +prevents the admirable work of Keble from being known as it should be +known. But this was now removed, and Mr Arnold, whose reputation (it +could hardly be called fame as yet) was already great with the knowing +ones, had not merely Oxford but the English reading world as audience. + +And he had it at a peculiarly important time, to the importance of +which he himself, in this very position, was not the least +contributor. Although the greatest writers of the second period of the +century--Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray--had, in all cases but +the last, a long, and in the two first a very long and a wonderfully +fruitful career still before them, yet the phase to which they +belonged was as a dominant phase at its height, and as a crescent was +beginning to give place to another. Within a few years--in most cases +within a few months--of Mr Arnold's installation, _The Defence of +Guenevere_ and FitzGerald's _Omar Khayyam_ heralded fresh +forms of poetry which have not been superseded yet; _The Origin of +Species_ and _Essays and Reviews_ announced changed attitudes +of thought; the death of Macaulay removed the last writer who, modern +as he was in some ways, and popular, united popularity with a +distinctly eighteenth-century tone and tradition; the death of Leigh +Hunt removed the last save Landor (always and in all things an +outsider) of the great Romantic generation of the first third of the +century; _The Ordeal of Richard Feverel_ started a new kind of +novel. + +The division which Mr Arnold, both by office and taste, was called to +lead in this newly levied army, was not far from being the most +important of all; and it was certainly that of all which required the +most thorough reformation of staff, _morale_,[3] and tactics. The +English literary criticism of 1830-1860, speaking in round numbers, is +curiously and to this day rather unintelligibly bad. There is, no +doubt, no set of matters in which it is less safe to generalise than +in matters literary, and this is by no means the only instance in +which the seemingly natural anticipation that a period of great +criticism will follow a period of great creation is falsified. But it +most certainly is falsified here. The criticism of the great Romantic +period of 1798-1830 was done for it by itself, and in some cases by +its greatest practitioners, not by its immediate successors. The +philosophic as well as poetical intuition of Coleridge; the marvellous +if capricious sympathy and the more marvellous phrase of Lamb; the +massive and masculine if not always quite trustworthy or well-governed +intellect of Hazlitt, had left no likes behind. Two survivors of this +great race, Leigh Hunt and De Quincey, were indeed critics, and no +inconsiderable ones; but the natural force of both had long been much +abated, and both had been not so much critics as essayists; the +tendency of Hunt to flowery sentimentality or familiar chat, and that +of De Quincey to incessant divergences of "rigmarole," being +formidable enemies to real critical competence. The greatest prosemen +--not novelists--of the generation now closing, Carlyle and Macaulay, +were indeed both considerable critics. But the shadow of death in the +one case, the "shadow of Frederick" in the other, had cut short their +critical careers: and presumptuous as the statement may seem, it may +be questioned whether either had been a great critic--in criticism +pure and simple--of literature. + +What is almost more important is that the _average_ literary +criticism of William IV.'s reign and of the first twenty years of her +present Majesty's was exceedingly bad. At one side, of course, the +work of men like Thackeray, who were men of genius but not critics by +profession, or in some respects by equipment, escapes this verdict. At +the other were men (very few of them indeed) like Lockhart, who had +admirable critical qualifications, but had allowed certain theories +and predilections to harden and ossify within them, and who in some +cases had not outgrown the rough uncivil ways of the great +revolutionary struggle. Between these the average critic, if not quite +so ignorant of literature as a certain proportion of the immensely +larger body of reviewers to-day, was certainly even more blind to its +general principles. Such critical work as that of Phillips, long a +favourite pen on the _Times_, and enjoying (I do not know with +how much justice) the repute of being the person whom Thackeray's +_Thunder and Small Beer_ has gibbeted for ever, excites amazement +nowadays at its bland but evidently sincere ignoring of the very +rudiments of criticism. I do not know that even in the most +interesting remains of George Brimley (who, had fate spared him, might +have grown into a great as he already was a good critic) we may not +trace something of the same hopeless amateurishness, the same +uncertainty and "wobbling" between the expression of unconnected and +unargued likes and dislikes concerning the matter of the piece, and +real critical considerations on its merits or demerits of scheme and +form. + +Not for the first time help came to us Trojans _Graia ab urbe_. +Of the general merits of French literary criticism it is possible to +entertain a somewhat lower idea than that which (in consequence of the +very circumstances with which we are now dealing) it has been for many +years fashionable in England to hold. But between 1830 and 1860 the +French had a very strong critical school indeed--a school whose +scholars and masters showed the daemonic, or at least prophetic, +inspiration of Michelet, the milder and feebler but still inspiring +enthusiasm of Quinet, the academic clearness and discipline of +Villemain and Nisard, the Lucianic wit of Merimee, the matchless +appreciation of Gautier, and, above all, the great new critical +idiosyncrasy of Sainte-Beuve. Between these men there were the widest +possible differences, not merely of personal taste and genius, but of +literary theory and practice. But where they all differed quite +infinitely from the lower class of English critics, and favourably +from all but the highest in their happiest moments, was in a singular +mixture of scholarship and appreciation. Even the most Romantic of +them usually tried to compare the subject with its likes in his own +and even, to some extent, in other literatures; even the most +Classical acknowledged, to some extent, that it was his duty to +appreciate, to understand, to grasp the case of the victim before +ordering him off to execution. + +In the practice of Sainte-Beuve himself, these two acknowledgments of +the duty of the critic embraced each other in the happiest union. The +want of enthusiasm which has been sometimes rather sillily charged +against him, comes in reality to no more than this--that he is too +busy in analysing, putting together again, comparing, setting things +in different lights and in different companies, to have much time for +dithyrambs. And the preference of second-to first-class subjects, +which has been also urged, is little more than the result of the fact +that these processes are more telling, more interesting, and more +needed in the case of the former than in the case of the latter. +Homer, AEschylus, Lucretius, Dante, Shakespeare will always make their +own way with all fit readers sooner or later: it is not so with +Meleager or Macrobius or Marmontel, with William Langland or with +Thomas Love Peacock. + +But Sainte-Beuve must not carry us too far from Mr Arnold, all +important as was the influence of the one upon the other. It is enough +to say that the new Professor of Poetry (who might be less +appetisingly but more correctly called a Professor of Criticism) had +long entertained the wish to attempt, and now had the means of +effecting, a reform in English criticism, partly on Sainte-Beuve's own +lines, partly on others which he had already made publicly known in +his famous Preface, and in some later critical writings, and which he +was for the rest of his life always unflinchingly to champion, +sometimes rather disastrously to extend. + +Still it has always been held that this chair is not _merely_ a +chair of criticism; and Mr Arnold lodged a poetical diploma-piece in +the shape of _Merope_. This was avowedly written as a sort of +professorial manifesto--a document to show what the only Professor of +Poetry whom England allowed herself thought, in theory and practice, +of at least dramatic poetry. It was, as was to be expected from the +author's official position and his not widespread but well-grounded +reputation, much less neglected than his earlier poetry had been. He +even tells us that "it sells well"; but the reviewers were not +pleased. The _Athenaeum_ review is "a choice specimen of style," +and the _Spectator_ "of argumentation"; the _Saturday Review_ is only +"deadly prosy," but none were exactly favourable till G.H. Lewes in +_The Leader_ was "very gratifying." Private criticism was a little +kinder. The present Archbishop of Canterbury (to whom, indeed, Mr +Arnold had just given "a flaming testimonial for Rugby") read it "with +astonishment at its goodness," a sentence which, it may be observed, +is a little double-edged. Kingsley (whom the editor of the _Letters_ +good-naturedly but perhaps rather superfluously reintroduces to the +British public as "author of _The Saints' Tragedy_ and other poems") +was "very handsome." Froude, though he begs the poet to "discontinue +the line," was not uncomplimentary in other ways. His own conclusion, +from reviews and letters together, is pretty plainly put in two +sentences, that he "saw the book was not going to take as he wished," +and that "she [Merope] is more calculated to inaugurate my +professorship with dignity than to move deeply the present race of +_humans_." Let us see what "she" is actually like. + +It is rather curious that the story of Merope should have been so +tempting as, to mention nothing else, Maffei's attempt in Italian, +Voltaire's in French, and this of Mr Arnold's in English, show it to +have been to modern admirers and would-be practitioners of the +Classical drama: and the curiosity is of a tell-tale kind. For the +fact is that the _donnee_ is very much more of the Romantic than of +the Classical description, and offers much greater conveniences to the +Romantic than to the Classical practitioner. With minor variations, +the story as generally dramatised is this. Merope, the widowed queen +of the murdered Heraclid Cresphontes, has saved her youngest son from +the murderer and usurper, Polyphontes, and sent him out of the +country. When he has grown up, and has secretly returned to Messenia +to take vengeance, Polyphontes is pressing Merope to let bygones be +bygones and marry him, so as to reconcile the jarring parties in the +State. AEpytus, the son, to facilitate his reception, represents +himself as a messenger charged to bring the news of his own death; and +Merope, hearing this and believing the messenger to be also the +assassin, obtains access to the chamber where he is resting after his +journey, and is about to murder her own sleeping son when he is saved +by the inevitable _anagnorisis_. The party of Cresphontes is then +secretly roused. AEpytus, at the sacrifice which the tyrant holds in +honour of the news of his rival's death, snatches the sacrificial axe +and kills Polyphontes himself, and all ends well. + +There is, of course, a strong dramatic moment here; but I cannot think +the plot by any means an ideal one for classical tragedy. At any rate +the Aristotelian conditions--the real ones, not the fanciful +distortions of sixteenth-seventeenth century criticism--are very ill +satisfied. There is bloodshed, but there is no tragic bloodshed, as +there would have been had Merope actually killed her son. The +arresting and triumphant "grip" of the tragic misfortunes of Oedipus +and Orestes, the combination of the course of fate and the [Greek: +hamartia] of the individual, is totally absent. The wooing of Merope +by Polyphontes is not so much preposterous as insignificant, though +Voltaire, by a touch of modernism, has rescued it or half-rescued it +from this most terrible of limbos. The right triumphs, no doubt; but +who cares whether it does or not? And Mr Arnold, with the heroic +obstinacy of the doctrinaire, has done nothing to help the effect of a +scheme in itself sufficiently uninspiring to the modern reader. When +he was at work upon the piece he had "thought and hoped" that it would +have what Buddha called "the character of Fixity, that true sign of +the law." A not unfriendly critic might have pointed out, with gloomy +forebodings, that a sign of law is not necessarily a sign of poetry, +and that, as a prophet of his own had laid it down, poetry should +"transport" not "fix." At any rate, it is clear to any one who reads +the book that the author was in a mood of deliberate provocation and +exaggeration--not a favourable mood for art. The quiet grace of +Sophocles is perhaps impossible to reproduce in English, but Mr +Arnold's verse is more than quiet, it is positively tame. The dreary +_tirades_ of Polyphontes and Merope, and their snip-snap +_stichomythia_, read equally ill in English. Mr Swinburne, who has +succeeded where Mr Arnold failed, saw by a true intuition that, to +equal the effect of the Greek chorus, full English lyric with rhyme +and musical sweep was required. Mr Arnold himself, as might have been +expected from his previous experiments in unrhymed Pindarics, has +given us strophes and antistrophes most punctiliously equivalent in +syllables; but sometimes with hardly any, and never with very much, +vesture of poetry about them. It is absolutely preposterous to suppose +that the effect on a Greek ear of a strophe even of Sophocles or +Euripides, let alone the great Agamemnonian choruses, was anything +like the effect on an English ear of such wooden stuff as this:-- + + "Three brothers roved the field, + And to two did Destiny + Give the thrones that they conquer'd, + But the third, what delays him + From his unattained crown?" + +But Mr Arnold would say "This is your unchaste modern love for +passages and patches. Tell me how I managed this worthy action?" To +which the only answer can be, "Sir, the action is rather +uninteresting. Save at one moment you have not raised the interest +anywhere, and you have certainly not made the most of it there." + +The fact is, that very few even of thorough-going Arnoldians have had, +or, except merely as "fighting a prize," could have had, much to say +for _Merope_. The author pleads that he only meant "to give people a +specimen of the world created by the Greek imagination." In the first +place, one really cannot help (with the opening speech of the +_Prometheus_, and the close of the _Eumenides_, and the whole of the +_Agamemnon_ in one's mind) saying that this is rather hard on the +Greeks. And in the second place, what a curious way of setting about +the object, when luckily specimens of the actual "world" so "created," +not mere _pastiches_ and plaster models of them, are still to be had, +and of the very best! But the fact is, thirdly, that Mr Arnold, as all +men so often do, and as he not very seldom did, was clearly trying not +so much to extol one thing as to depreciate another. Probably in his +heart of hearts (which is generally a much wiser heart than that +according to which the mouth speaks and the pen writes) he knew his +failure. At any rate, he never attempted anything of the kind again, +and Merope, that queen of plaster, remains alone in his gallery, with, +as we see in other galleries, merely some _disjecta membra_--"Fragment +of an _Antigone_," "Fragment of a _Dejaneira_," grouped at her feet. +In the definitive edition indeed, she is not with these but with +_Empedocles on Etna_, a rather unlucky contrast. For _Empedocles_, if +very much less deliberately Greek than _Merope_, is very much better +poetry, and it is almost impossible that the comparison of the two +should not suggest to the reader that the attempt to be Greek is +exactly and precisely the cause of the failure to be poetical. Mr +Arnold had forgotten his master's words about the _oikeia hedone_. The +pleasure of Greek art is one thing--the pleasure of English poetry +another. + +His inaugural lecture, "On the Modern Element in Literature," was +printed many years afterwards in _Macmillan's Magazine_ for February +1869; and this long hesitation seems to have been followed by an even +longer repentance, for the piece was never included in any one of his +volumes of essays. But the ten years of his professorship are, +according to the wise parsimony of the chair, amply represented by the +two famous little books--_On Translating Homer_, which, with its +supplementary "Last Words," appeared in 1861-62, and _On the Study of +Celtic Literature_, which appeared at the termination of his tenure in +1867. It may be questioned whether he ever did anything of more +influence than these books, this being due partly to the fashion of +their publication--which, in the latter case at least, applied the +triple shock of lecture at the greatest of English literary centres, +of magazine article, and of book--and partly to the fact that they +were about subjects in which a real or a factitious, a direct or an +indirect, interest was taken by almost every one. Every educated +person knew and cared something (or at least would not have liked to +be supposed not to care and know something) about Homer; very few +educated persons knew anything about Celtic literature. But in these +later lectures he put in a more popular and provocative form than that +of his _French Eton_ (see next chapter) that mixture of literary, +political, social, and miscellaneous critique of his countrymen for +which he was thenceforward best known; and which, if it brought down +some hard knocks from his adversaries, and perhaps was not altogether +a healthy mixture for himself, could at least not be charged by any +reasonable person with lack of piquancy and actuality. + +Both books are, and, despite some drawbacks of personal and ephemeral +allusion, always will be, interesting; and both had, perhaps even more +than the _Essays in Criticism_ themselves, a stimulating effect +upon English men of letters which can hardly be overvalued. It may +indeed be said without paradox that they owe not a little of their +value to their faults; but they owe a great deal more to their merits. + +The faults are apparent enough even in the first series, which falls +to be noticed in this chapter; yet it is really difficult to say when +a more important book of English criticism had appeared. Dryden's +_Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, Johnson's _Lives_ at their frequent best, +Coleridge's _Biographia Literaria_, are greater things; but hardly the +best of them was in its day more "important for _us_." To read even +the best of that immediately preceding criticism of which something +has been said above--nay, even to recur to Coleridge and Hazlitt and +Lamb--and then to take up _On Translating Homer_, is to pass to a +critic with a far fuller equipment, with a new method, with a style of +his own, and with an almost entirely novel conception of the whole art +of criticism. For the first time (even Coleridge with much wider +reading had not co-ordinated it from this point of view) we find the +two great ancient and the three or four great modern literatures of +Europe taken synoptically, used to illustrate and explain each other, +to point out each other's defects and throw up each other's merits. +Almost for the first time, too, we have ancient literature treated +more or less like modern--neither from the merely philological point +of view, nor with reference to the stock platitudes and traditions +about it. The critic is not afraid of doctrines and general +principles--in fact, he is rather too fond of them--but his object is +anything rather than mere arid deduction and codification. He has the +aesthetic sense as thoroughly as Hazlitt and Lamb, but without the +wilfulness of either, or at least with a different kind of wilfulness +from that of either. Finally, in one of the numerous ways in which he +shows that his subject is alive to him, he mixes it up with the +queerest personalities and sudden zigzags, with all manner of +digressions and side-flings. And last of all, he has that new style of +which we spoke--a style by no means devoid of affectation and even +trick, threatening, to experienced eyes, the disease of mannerism, but +attractive in its very provocations, almost wholly original, and +calculated, at least while it retains its freshness, to drive what is +said home into the reader's mind and to stick it there. + +The faults, we said, both critical and non-critical, are certainly not +lacking; and if they were not partly excused by the author's avowedly +militant position, might seem sometimes rather grave. Whatever may +have been the want of taste, and even the want of sense, in the +translation of F. W. Newman, it is almost sufficient to say that they +were neither greater nor less than might have been expected from a +person who, if the most scholarly of eccentrics, was also the most +eccentric even of English scholars. It is difficult not to think that +Mr Arnold makes too much of them and refers too frequently to them. +Such "iteration" is literally "damnable": it must be condemned as +unfair, out of place, out of taste, and even not distantly approaching +that lack of urbanity with which Mr Arnold was never tired of +reproaching his countrymen. Another translator, Mr Wright, was indeed +needlessly sensitive to Mr Arnold's strictures; but these strictures +themselves were needlessly severe. It is all very well for a reviewer, +especially if he be young and anonymous, to tell a living writer that +his book has "no reason for existing"; but chairs of literature are +not maintained by universities that their occupants may, in relation +to living persons, exercise the functions of young anonymous +reviewers. It may indeed be doubted whether these occupants should, +except in the most guarded way, touch living persons at all. + +Critically too, as well as from the point of view of manners, the +_Lectures on Translating Homer_ are open to not a few criticisms. +In the first place, the assumptions are enormous, and, in some cases +at least, demonstrably baseless. One of Mr Arnold's strongest points, +for instance, not merely against Mr Newman but against Homeric +translators generally, is concerned with the renderings of the Homeric +compound adjectives, especially the stock ones--_koruthaiolos_, +_merops_, and the rest. The originals, he is never weary of repeating, +did not strike a Greek and do not strike a Greek scholar as out of the +way; the English equivalents do so strike an English reader. Now as to +the Greeks themselves, we know nothing: they have left us no positive +information on the subject. But if (which is no doubt at least partly +true) _koruthaiolos_ and _dolichoskion_ do not strike us, who have +been familiar with Greek almost as long as we can remember, as out of +the way, is that an argument? Most of us, I suppose, at about nine or +ten years old, some no doubt a little or a good deal earlier, learnt +these words as part of the ordinary Greek that was presented to us, +just as much as _kai_ and _ara_; but if we had learnt Greek as we +learn English, beginning with quite ordinary words, would it be so? I +think not; nor would it be so if people began Greek at a later and +more critical stage of their education. + +It is also true that the book is full of that exceedingly arbitrary +and unproved assertion, of that rather fanciful terminology, of those +sometimes questionable aesthetic _obiter dicta_, of which, from +first to last, Mr Arnold was so prolific. When he talks about the +mysterious "grand style," and tells us that Milton can never be +affected, we murmur, "_De gustibus!_" and add mentally, "Though +Milton is the greatest of affected writers, Milton is, after +_Comus_ at least, never anything else!" When he tells us again +that at that moment (1861) "English literature as a living +intellectual instrument ranks after the literatures of France and +Germany," we remember that at the time France possessed perhaps only +one writer, Victor Hugo, and Germany absolutely none, of the calibre +of a dozen Englishmen--Tennyson, Browning, Carlyle, Thackeray, +Dickens, and not a few others, from Landor to Mr Ruskin; that Germany, +further, had scarcely one, though France had more than one or two, +great writers of the second class: and we say, "Either your 'living +intellectual instrument' is a juggle of words, or you really are +neglecting fact." Many--very many--similar retorts are possible; and +the most hopeless variance of all must come when we arrive at Mr +Arnold's championship of that ungainly and sterile mule the English +hexameter, and when we review the specimens of the animal that he +turns out from his own stables for our inspection. + +But it matters not. For all this, and very much more than all this, +which may be passed over as unnecessary or improper, nothing like the +book had, for positive critical quality, and still more for germinal +influence, been seen by its generation, and nothing of the same +quality and influence has been seen for more than a technical +generation since. It would of course be uncritical in the last degree +to take the change in English criticism which followed as wholly and +directly Mr Arnold's work. He was not even the voice crying in the +wilderness: only one of many voices in a land ready at least to be +eared and pathed. But he was the earliest of such voices, the +clearest, most original, most potent; and a great deal of what +followed was directly due to him. + +The non-literary events of his life during this period were +sufficiently varied if not very momentous. We have mentioned the +domiciling in Chester Square, which took place in February 1858, +perhaps on the strength of the additional income from Oxford. In the +late summer of that year he went alone to Switzerland, and next +spring, shortly after the New Year, received, to his very great joy, a +roving commission to France, Belgium, Switzerland, and Piedmont, to +report on elementary education. "Foreign life," he says, with that +perfect naturalness which makes the charm of his letters, "is still to +me perfectly delightful and liberating in the last degree." And he was +duly "presented" at home, in order that he might be presentable +abroad. But the first days of the actual sojourn (as we have them +recorded in a letter to his mother of April 14) were saddened by that +death of his brother William, which he has enshrined in verse. + +He had, however, plenty to distract him. France was all astir with the +Austrian war, and it is impossible to read his expressions of +half-awed admiration of French military and other greatness without +rather mischievous amusement. He visited the Morbihan, which struck +him as it must strike every one. Here he is pathetic over a promising +but not performing dinner at Auray--"soup, Carnac oysters, shrimps, +_fricandeau_ of veal, breast of veal, and asparagus;" but +"everything so detestable" that his dinner was bread and cheese. He +must have been unlucky: the little Breton inns, at any rate a few +years later than this, used, it is true, to be dirty to an extent +appalling to an Englishman; but their provender was usually far from +contemptible. There is more sense of Breton scenery in another letter +a little later. Both here and, presently, in Gascony he notes truly +enough "the incredible degree to which the Revolution has cleared the +feudal ages out of the minds of the country people"; but if he +reflected on the bad national effect of this breach with the past, he +does not say so. By June 12 he is in Holland, and does not like +it--weather, language, &c., all English in the worst sense, apparently +without the Norman and Latin element which just saves us. And though +he was a very short time in the Netherlands, he has to relieve his +feelings by more abuse of them when he gets back to Paris--in fact, he +speaks of Holland exactly as the typical Frenchman speaks of England, +and is accordingly very funny to read. The two things that make +Holland most interesting, history and art, were exactly those that +appealed to Mr Arnold least. Then after a refreshing bath of Paris, he +goes to Strasbourg, and Time--Time the Humourist as well as the +Avenger and Consoler--makes him commit himself dreadfully. He "thinks +there cannot be a moment's doubt" that the French will beat the +Prussians even far more completely and rapidly than they are beating +the Austrians. Lord Cowley, it seems, "entirely shared" his conviction +that "the French will always beat any number of Germans who come into +the field against them, and never be beaten by any one but the +English." Let us hope that Jove, when he whistled half this prophecy +down the wind, affirmed the rest of it! Switzerland comes next; and he +is beginning to want very much to be back in England, partly "for the +children, but partly also from affection for that foolish old +country"--which paternal and patriotic desire was granted about the +end of the month, though only for a short time, during which he wrote +a pamphlet on the Italian question. Then "M. le Professeur Docteur +Arnold, Directeur General de toutes les Ecoles de la Grande Bretagne," +returned to France for a time, saw Merimee and George Sand and Renan, +as well as a good deal of Sainte-Beuve, and was back again for good in +the foolish old country at the end of the month. + +In the early winter of 1859-60 we find him a volunteer, commenting not +too happily on "the hideous English toadyism which invests lords and +great people with commands," a remark which seems to clench the +inference that he had not appreciated the effect of the Revolution +upon France. For nearly three parts of 1860 we have not a single +letter, except one in January pleasantly referring to his youngest +child "in black velvet and red-and-white tartan, looking such a duck +that it was hard to take one's eyes off him."[4] This letter, by the +way, ends with an odd admission from the author of the remark quoted +just now. He says of the Americans, "It seems as if few stocks could +be trusted to grow up properly without having a priesthood and an +aristocracy to act as their schoolmasters at some time or other of +their national existence." This is a confession. The gap, however, is +partly atoned for by a very pleasant batch in September from Viel Salm +in the Ardennes, where the whole family spent a short time, and where +the Director-General of all the schools in Great Britain had splendid +fishing, the hapless Ardennes trout being only accustomed to nets. + +Then the interest returns to literature, and the lectures on +translating Homer, and Tennyson's "deficiency in intellectual power," +and Mr Arnold's own interest in the Middle Ages, which may surprise +some folk. It seems that he has "a strong sense of the irrationality +of that period" and of "the utter folly of those who take it seriously +and play at restoring it." Still it has "poetically the greatest charm +and refreshment for me." One may perhaps be permitted to doubt whether +you can get much real poetical refreshment out of a thing which is +irrational and which you don't take seriously: the practice seems to +be not unlike that mediaeval one of keeping fools for your delectation. +Nor can the observations on Tennyson be said to be quite just or quite +pleasant. But every age and every individual is unjust to his or its +immediate predecessor--a saying dangerous and double-edged, but true +for all that. Then he "entangles himself in the study of accents"--it +would be difficult to find any adventurer who has _not_ entangled +himself in that study--and groans over "a frightful parcel of grammar +papers," which he only just "manages in time," apparently on the very +unwholesome principle (though this was not the same batch) of doing +twenty before going to bed when he comes in from a dinner-party at +eleven o'clock. Colds, Brighton, praise from Sainte-Beuve, critical +attacks in the English papers, and (not quite unprovoked) from F.W. +Newman, reflections on the Age of Wisdom (forty), and a meeting with +Thackeray, the Laureate of that age, diversify the history agreeably. +Then we come to a dead, and now rather more than dull, controversy +over the Revised Code, of which we need not say much. Official +etiquette on such matters, especially in England, is very loose, +though he himself seems to have at one time thought it distantly +possible, though not likely, that he would be ejected for the part he +took. And his first five years' tenure of the Oxford Chair ends with +the delivery of the Creweian oration, as to the composition of which +he consoles himself (having heard both from the Vice-Chancellor and +others that there was to be "a great row") by reflecting that "it +doesn't much matter what he writes, as he shall not be heard." I do +not know whether the prediction was justified; but if so, the same +fate had, according to tradition, befallen his Newdigate some twenty +years earlier. In neither case can the "row" have had any personal +reference. Though his lectures were never largely attended by +undergraduates, he was always popular in Oxford. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The mystery is partly explained, in a fashion of no little +biographical importance, by the statement in Mr Arnold's first general +report for the year 1852, that his district included Lincoln, +Nottingham, Derby, Stafford, Salop, Hereford, Worcester, Warwick, +Leicester, Rutland and Northants, Gloucester, Monmouth, _all_ +South Wales, most of North Wales, and some schools in the East and +West Ridings. This apparently impossible range had its monstrosity +reduced by the limitation of his inspectorship to Nonconformist +schools of other denominations than the Roman Catholic, especially +Wesleyan and the then powerful "British" schools. As the schools +multiplied the district was reduced, and at last he had Westminster +only; but the exclusion of Anglican and Roman Catholic schools +remained till 1870. And it is impossible not to connect the somewhat +exaggerated place which the Dissenters hold in his social and +political theories (as well as perhaps some of his views about the +"Philistine") with these associations of his. We must never forget +that for nearly twenty years Mr Arnold worked in the shadow, not of +Barchester Towers, but of Salem Chapel. + +[2] "I have papers sent me to look over which will give me to the 20th +of January in _London_ without moving, then for a week to +_Huntingdonshire_ schools, then for another to London, ...and +then _Birmingham_ for a month." + +[3] There are persons who would spell this _moral_; but I am not +writing French, and in English the practice of good writers from +Chesterfield downwards is my authority. + +[4] The letters are full of pleasant child-worship, the best passage +of all being perhaps the dialogue between Tom and "Budge," at vol. i. +p. 56, with the five-year-old cynicism of the elder's reply, "Oh this +is _false_ Budge, this is all _false_!" to his infant brother's +protestations of affection. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_A FRENCH ETON_--_ESSAYS IN CRITICISM_--_CELTIC LITERATURE_--_NEW +POEMS_--LIFE FROM 1862 TO 1867. + + +The period of Mr Arnold's second tenure of the Poetry Chair, from 1862 +to 1867, was much more fertile in remarkable books than that of his +first. It was during this time that he established himself at once as +the leader of English critics by his _Essays in Criticism_ (some +of which had first taken form as Oxford Lectures) and that he made his +last appearance with a considerable collection of _New Poems_. It +was during this, or immediately after its expiration, that he issued +his second collected book of lectures on _The Study of Celtic +Literature_; and it was then that he put in more popular, though +still in not extremely popular, forms the results of his +investigations into Continental education. It was during this time +also that his thoughts took the somewhat unfortunate twist towards the +mission of reforming his country, not merely in matters literary, +where he was excellently qualified for the apostolate, but in the much +more dubiously warranted function of political, "sociological," and +above all, ecclesiastical or anti-ecclesiastical gospeller. With all +these things we must now deal. + +No one of Mr Arnold's books is more important, or more useful in +studying the evolution of his thought and style, than _A French +Eton_ (1864). Although he was advancing in middle-life when it was +written, and had evidently, as the phrase goes, "made up his bundle of +prejudices," he had not written, or at least published, very much +prose; his mannerisms had not hardened. And above all, he was but just +catching the public ear, and so was not tempted to assume the part of +Chesterfield-Socrates, which he played later, to the diversion of +some, to the real improvement of many, but a little to his own +disaster. He was very thoroughly acquainted with the facts of his +subject, which was not always the case later; and though his +assumptions--the insensibility of aristocracies to ideas, the +superiority of the French to the English in this respect, the failure +of the Anglican Church, and so forth--are already as questionable as +they are confident, he puts them with a certain modesty, a certain +[Greek: epieikeia], which was perhaps not always so obvious when he +came to preach that quality itself later. About the gist of the book +it is not necessary to say very much. He practically admits the +obvious and unanswerable objection that his _French Eton_, +whether we look for it at Toulouse or look for it at Soreze, is very +French, but not at all Eton. He does not really attempt to meet the +more dangerous though less epigrammatic demurrer, "Do you _want_ +schools to turn out products of this sort?" It was only indirectly his +fault, but it was a more or less direct consequence of his arguments, +that a process of making ducks and drakes of English grammar-school +endowments began, and was (chiefly in the "seventies") carried on, +with results, the mischievousness of which apparently has been known +and noted only by experts, and which they have chiefly kept to +themselves. + +All this is already ancient history, and history not ancient enough to +be venerable. But the book as a book, and also as a document in the +case, has, and always will have, interest. "The cries and catchwords" +which Mr Arnold denounces, as men so often do denounce their own most +besetting temptations, have not yet quite mastered him; but they have +made a lodgment. The revolt--in itself quite justifiable, and even +admirable--from the complacent acceptance of English middle-class +thought, English post-Reform-Bill politics, English mid-century taste +and ethics and philosophy,--from everything, in short, of which +Macaulay was the equally accepted and representative eulogist and +exponent, is conspicuous. It is from foreign and almost hostile +sources that we must expect help. The State is to resume, or to +initiate, its guidance of a very large part, if not of the whole, of +the matters which popular thought, Liberal and Conservative alike, +then assigned to individual action or private combination. We have not +yet Barbarians, Philistines, and Populace labelled with their tickets +and furnished with their descriptions; but the three classes are +already sharply separated in Mr Arnold's mind, and we can see that +only in the Philistine who burns Dagon, and accepts circumcision and +culture fully, is there to be any salvation. The anti-clerical and +anti-theological animus is already strong; the attitude _dantis jura +Catonis_ is arranged; the _jura_ themselves, if not actually +graven and tabulated, can be seen coming with very little difficulty. +Above all, the singing-robes are pretty clearly laid aside; the +Scholar-Gipsy exercises no further spell; we have turned to prose and +(as we can best manage it) sense. + +But _A French Eton_ is perhaps most interesting for its style. In +this respect it marks a stage, and a distinct one, between the +_Preface_ of 1853 and the later and better known works. More of a +_concio ad vulgus_ than the former, it shows a pretty obvious +endeavour to soften and popularise, without unduly vulgarising, the +academic tone of the earlier work. And it does not yet display those +"mincing graces" which were sometimes attributed (according to a very +friendly and most competent critic, "harshly, but justly") to the +later. The mannerisms, indeed, like the dogmatisms, are pretty clearly +imminent. Slightly exotic vocabulary--"habitude" "repartition," for +"habit," "distribution"--makes its appearance. That abhorrence of the +conjunction, which made Mr Arnold later give us rows of adjectives and +substantives, with never an "and" to string them together, is here. +But no one of these tricks, nor any other, is present in excess: there +is nothing that can justly be called falsetto; and in especial, though +some names of merely ephemeral interest are in evidence--Baines, +Roebuck, Miall, &c., Mr Arnold's well-known substitutes for Cleon and +Cinesias--there is nothing like the torrent of personal allusion in +_Friendship's Garland_. "Bottles" and his company are not yet +with us; the dose of _persiflage_ is rigorously kept down; the +author has not reached the stage when he seemed to hold sincerely the +principle so wickedly put by Mr Lewis Carroll, that + + "What I tell you three times is true," + +and that the truth could be made truest by making the three thirty. + +The result is that he never wrote better. A little of the dignity of +his earlier manner--when he simply followed that admirable older +Oxford style, of which Newman was the greatest master and the last--is +gone, but it has taken some stiffness with it. Some--indeed a good +deal--of the piquancy of the later is not yet apparent; but its +absence implies, and is more than compensated by, the concomitant +absence of those airs and flings, those interludes as of an academic +jester, in cap and gown and liripipe instead of motley, which have +been charged, not quite unjustly, on the Arnold that we know best. +There is hardly in English a better example of the blending and +conciliation of the two modes of argumentative writing referred to in +Bishop Kurd's acute observation, that if your first object is to +convince, you cannot use a style too soft and insinuating; if you want +to confute, the rougher and more unsparing the better. And the +description and characterisation are quite excellent. + +Between _A French Eton_ and the second collection of Oxford +Lectures came, in 1865, the famous _Essays in Criticism_, the +first full and varied, and perhaps always the best, expression and +illustration of the author's critical attitude, the detailed manifesto +and exemplar of the new critical method, and so one of the +epoch-making books of the later nineteenth century in English. It +consisted, in the first edition, of a _Preface_ (afterwards +somewhat altered and toned down) and of nine essays (afterwards to be +made ten by the addition of _A Persian Passion-Play_). The two +first of these were general, on _The Function of Criticism at the +Present Time_ and _The Literary Influence of Academies_, while +the other seven dealt respectively with the two Guerins, Heine, +_Pagan and Mediaeval Religious Sentiment_, Joubert, Spinoza, and +Marcus Aurelius. I am afraid it must be taken as only too strong a +confirmation of Mr Arnold's own belief as to the indifference of the +English people to criticism that no second edition of this book was +called for till four years were past, no third for ten, and no fourth +for nearly twenty. + +Yet, to any one whom the gods have made in the very slightest degree +critical, it is one of the most fascinating (if sometimes also one of +the most provoking) of books; and the fascination and provocation +should surely have been felt even by others. As always with the +author, there is nothing easier than to pick holes in it: in fact, on +his own principles, one is simply bound to pick holes. He evidently +enjoyed himself very much in the _Preface:_ but it may be doubted +whether the severe Goddess of Taste can have altogether smiled on his +enjoyment. He is superciliously bland to the unlucky and no doubt +rather unwise Mr Wright (_v. supra_): he tells the _Guardian_ in a +periphrasis that it is dull, and "Presbyter Anglicanus" that he is +born of Hyrcanian tigers, and the editor of the _Saturday Review_ that +he is a late and embarrassed convert to the Philistines. He introduces +not merely Mr Spurgeon, a Philistine of some substance and memory, but +hapless forgotten shadows like "Mr Clay," "Mr Diffanger," "Inspector +Tanner," "Professor Pepper" to the contempt of the world. And then, +when we are beginning to find all this laughter rather +"thorn-crackling" and a little forced, the thing ends with the famous +and magnificent _epiphonema_ (as they would have said in the old days) +to Oxford, which must for ever conciliate all sons of hers and all +gracious outsiders to its author, just as it turns generation after +generation of her enemies sick with an agonised grin. + +So, again, one may marvel, and almost grow angry, at the whim which +made Mr Arnold waste two whole essays on an amiable and interesting +person like Eugenie de Guerin and a mere nobody like her brother. They +are very pretty essays in themselves; but then (as Mr Arnold has +taught us), "all depends on the subject," and the subjects here are so +exceedingly unimportant! Besides, as he himself almost openly +confessed, and as everybody admits now, he really did not understand +French poetry at all. When we come to "Keats and Guerin," there is +nothing for it but to take refuge in Byron's + + "_Such_ names coupled!" + +and pass with averted face. Seventy-two mortal pages of Matthew +Arnold's, at his very best time, wasted on a brother and sister who +happened to be taken up by Sainte-Beuve! + +But the rest of the book is entirely free from liability to any such +criticism as this. To some criticism--even to a good deal--it is +beyond doubt exposed. The first and most famous paper--the general +manifesto, as the earlier _Preface_ to the _Poems_ is the +special one, of its author's literary creed--on _The Function of +Criticism at the Present Time_ must indeed underlie much the same +objections as those that have been made to the introduction. Here is +the celebrated passage about "Wragg is in custody," the text of which, +though no doubt painful in subject and inurbane in phraseology, is +really a rather slender basis on which to draw up an indictment +against a nation. Here is the astounding--the, if serious, almost +preternatural--statement that "not very much of current English +literature comes into this best that is known and thought in the +world. Not very much I fear: certainly less than of the current +literature of France and Germany." And this was 1865, when the Germans +had had no great poet but Heine for a generation, nor any great poets +but Goethe and Heine for some five hundred years, no great +prose-writer but Heine (unless you call Goethe one), and were not +going to have any! It was 1865, when all the great French writers, +themselves of but some thirty years' standing, were dying off, not to +be succeeded! 1865, when for seventy years England had not lacked, and +for nearly thirty more was not to lack, poets and prose-writers of the +first order by the dozen and almost the score! Here, too, is the +marvellous companion-statement that in the England of the first +quarter of the century was "no national glow of life." It was the +chill of death, I suppose, which made the nation fasten on the throat +of the world and choke it into submission during a twenty years' +struggle. + +But these things are only Mr Arnold's way. I have never been able to +satisfy myself whether they were deliberate paradoxes, or sincere and +rather pathetic paralogisms. For instance, did he really think that +the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, an organ of "dukes, dunces, and +_devotes_," as it used to be called even in those days by the +wicked knowing ones, a nursing mother of Academies certainly, and a +most respectable periodical in all ways--that this good _Revue_ +actually "had for its main function to understand and utter the best +that is known and thought in the world," absolutely existed as an +organ for "the free play of mind"? I should be disposed to think that +the truer explanation of such things is that they were neither quite +paradoxes nor quite paralogisms; but the offspring of an innocent +willingness to believe what he wished, and of an almost equally +innocent desire to provoke the adversary. Unless (as unluckily they +sometimes are) they be taken at the foot of the letter, they can do no +harm, and their very piquancy helps the rest to do a great deal of +good. + +For there can be no doubt that in the main contention of his +manifesto, as of his book, Mr Arnold was absolutely right. It was true +that England, save for spasmodic and very partial appearances of it in +a few of her great men of letters--Ben Jonson, Dryden, Addison, +Johnson--had been wonderfully deficient in criticism up to the end of +the eighteenth century; and that though in the early nineteenth she +had produced one great philosophical critic, another even greater on +the purely literary side, and a third of unique appreciative sympathy, +in Coleridge, Hazlitt, and Lamb, she had not followed these up, and +had, even in them, shown certain critical limitations. It was true +that though the Germans had little and the French nothing to teach us +in range, both had much to teach us in thoroughness, method, +_style_ of criticism. And it was truest of all (though Mr Arnold, +who did not like the historic estimate, would have admitted this with +a certain grudge) that the time imperatively demanded a thorough +"stock-taking" of our own literature in the light and with the help of +others. + +Let _palma_--let the _maxima palma_--of criticism be given +to him in that he first fought for the creed of this literary +orthodoxy, and first exemplified (with whatever admixture of +will-worship of his own, with whatever quaint rites and ceremonies) +the carrying out of the cult. It is possible that his direct influence +may have been exaggerated; one of the most necessary, though not of +the most grateful, businesses of the literary historian is to point +out that with rare exceptions, and those almost wholly on the poetic +side, great men of letters rather show in a general, early, and +original fashion a common tendency than definitely lead an otherwise +sluggish multitude to the promised land. But no investigation has +deprived, or is at all likely to deprive, the _Essays in +Criticism_ of their place as an epoch-making book, as the manual of +a new and often independent, but, on the whole, like-minded, critical +movement in England. + +Nor can the blow of the first essay be said to be ill followed up in +the second, the almost equally famous (perhaps the _more_ famous) +_Influence of Academies_. Of course here also, here as always, +you may make reservations. It is a very strong argument, an argument +stronger than any of Mr Arnold's, that the institutions of a nation, +if they are to last, if they are to do any good, must be in accordance +with the spirit of the nation; that if the French Academy has been +beneficial, it is because the French spirit is academic; and that if +(as we may fear, or hope, or believe, according to our different +principles) the English spirit is unacademic, an Academy would +probably be impotent and perhaps ridiculous in England. But we can +allow for this; and when we have allowed for it, once more Mr Arnold's +warnings are warnings on the right side, true, urgent, beneficial. +There are still the minor difficulties. Even at the time, much less as +was known of France in England then than now, there were those who +opened their eyes first and then rubbed them at the assertion that +"openness of mind and flexibility of intelligence" were the +characteristics of the French people. But once more also, no matter! +The central drift is right, and the central drift carries many +excellent things with it, and may be allowed to wash away the less +excellent. Mr Arnold is right on the average qualities of French +prose; whether he is right about the "provinciality" of Jeremy Taylor +as compared to Bossuet or not, he is right about "critical freaks," +though, by the way--but it is perhaps unnecessary to finish that +sentence. He is right about the style of Mr Palgrave and right about +the style of Mr Kinglake; and I do not know that I feel more +especially bound to pronounce him wrong about the ideas of Lord +Macaulay. But had he been as wrong in all these things as he was +right, the central drift would still be inestimable--the drift of +censure and contrast applied to English eccentricity, the argument +that this eccentricity, if it is not very good, is but too likely to +be very bad. + +Yet it is perhaps in the illustrative essays that the author shows at +his best. Even in the Guerin pieces, annoyance at the waste of +first-rate power on tenth-rate people need not wholly blind us to the +grace of the exposition and to the charming eulogy of "distinction" at +the end. That, if Mr Arnold had known a little more about that French +Romantic School which he despised, he would have hardly assigned this +distinction to Maurice; and that Eugenie, though undoubtedly a "fair +soul," was in this not distinguished from hundreds and thousands of +other women, need not matter very much after all. And with the rest +there need be few allowances, or only amicable ones. One may doubt +whether Heine's charm is not mainly due to the very lawlessness, the +very contempt of "subject," the very quips and cranks and caprices +that Mr Arnold so sternly bans. But who shall deny the excellence and +the exquisiteness of this, the first English tribute of any real worth +to the greatest of German poets, to one of the great poets of the +world, to the poet who with Tennyson and Hugo completes the +representative trinity of European poets of the nineteenth century +proper? Very seldom (his applause of Gray, the only other instance, is +not quite on a par with this) does the critic so nearly approach +enthusiasm--not merely _engouement_ on the one side or serene +approval on the other. No matter that he pretends to admire Heine for +his "modern spirit" (why, _O Macaree_, as his friend Maurice de +Guerin might have said, should a modern spirit be better than an +ancient one, or what is either before the Eternal?) instead of for +what has been, conceitedly it may be, called the "tear-dew and +star-fire and rainbow-gold" of his phrase and verse. He felt this +magic at any rate. No matter that he applies the wrong comparison +instead of the right one, and depreciates French in order to exalt +German, instead of thanking Apollo for these two good different +things. The root of the matter is the right root, a discriminating +enthusiasm: and the flower of the matter is one of the most charming +critical essays in English. It is good, no doubt, to have made up +one's mind about Heine before reading Mr Arnold; but one almost envies +those who were led to that enchanted garden by so delightful an +interpreter. + +Almost equally delightful, and with no touch of the sadness which must +always blend with any treatment of Heine, is the next essay, the pet, +I believe, of some very excellent judges, on "Pagan and Mediaeval +Religious Sentiment," with its notable translation of Theocritus and +its contrast with St Francis. One feels, indeed, that Mr Arnold was +not quite so well equipped with knowledge on the one side as on the +other; indeed, he never was well read in mediaeval literature. But his +thesis, as a thesis, is capable of defence; in the sternest times of +military etiquette he could not have been put to death on the charge +of holding out an untenable post; and he puts the different sides with +incomparable skill and charm. Mr Arnold glosses Pagan morals rather +doubtfully, but so skilfully; he rumples and blackens mediaeval life +more than rather unfairly, but with such a light and masterly touch! + +Different again, inferior perhaps, but certainly not in any hostile +sense inferior, is the "Joubert." It has been the fashion with some to +join this essay to the Guerin pieces as an instance of some +incorrigible twist in Mr Arnold's French estimates, of some inability +to admire the right things, even when he did admire I cannot agree +with them. Joubert, of course, has his own shortcomings as a +_pensee_-writer. He is _rococo_ beside La Bruyere, dilettante beside +La Rochefoucauld, shallow beside Pascal. There is at times, even if +you take him by himself, and without comparison, something thin and +amateurish and conventional about him. But this is by no means always +or very often the case; and his merits, very great in themselves, were +even greater for Mr Arnold's general purpose. + +That subtle and sensitive genius did not go wrong when it selected +Joubert as an eminent example of those gifts of the French mind which +most commended themselves to itself--an exquisite _justesse_, an +alertness of spirit not shaking off rule and measure, above all, a +consummate propriety in the true and best, not the limited sense of +the word. Nor is it difficult to observe in the shy philosopher a +temperament which must have commended itself to Mr Arnold almost as +strongly as his literary quality, and very closely indeed connected +with that--the temperament of equity, of _epieikeia_, of freedom +from swagger and brag and self-assertion. And here, once more, the +things receive precisely their right treatment, the treatment +proportioned and adjusted at once to their own value and nature and to +the use which their critic is intending to make of them. For it is one +of the greatest literary excellences of the _Essays in Criticism_ +that, with rare exceptions, they bear a real relation to each other +and to the whole--that they are not a bundle but an organism; a +university, not a mob. + +The subjects of the two last essays, _Spinoza_ and _Marcus +Aurelius_, may at first sight, and not at first sight only, seem +oddly chosen. For although the conception of literature illustrated in +the earlier part of the book is certainly wide, and admits--nay, +insists upon, as it always did with Mr Arnold--considerations of +subject in general and of morals and religion in particular, yet it is +throughout one of literature as such. Now, we cannot say that the +interest of Spinoza or that of Marcus Aurelius, great as it is in both +cases, is wholly, or in the main, or even in any considerable part, a +literary interest. With Spinoza it is a philosophical-religious +interest, with Marcus Aurelius a moral-religious, almost purely. The +one may indeed illustrate that attempt to see things in a perfectly +white light which Mr Arnold thought so important in literature; the +other, that attention to conduct which he thought more important +still. But they illustrate these things in themselves, not in relation +to literature. They are less literary even than St Francis; far less +than the author of the _Imitation_. + +It cannot therefore but be suspected that in including them Mr Arnold, +unconsciously perhaps, but more probably with some consciousness, was +feeling his way towards that wide extension of the province of the +critic, that resurrection of the general Socratic attitude, which he +afterwards adventured. But it cannot be said that his experiments are +on this particular occasion in any way disastrous. With both his +subjects he had the very strongest sympathy--with Spinoza (as already +with Heine) as a remarkable example of the Hebraic spirit and genius, +rebellious to or transcending the usual limitations of Hebraism; with +Marcus Aurelius as an example of that non-Christian morality and +religiosity which also had so strong an attraction for him. There is +no trace in either essay of the disquieting and almost dismaying +jocularity which was later to invade his discussion of such things: we +are still far from Bottles; the three Lord Shaftesburys relieve us by +not even threatening to appear. And accordingly the two essays add in +no small degree, though somewhat after the fashion of an appendix or +belated episode, to the charm of the book. They have an unction which +never, as it so often does in the case of Mr Arnold's dangerous master +and model Renan, degenerates into unctuosity; they are nobly serious, +but without being in the least dull; they contain some exceedingly +just and at the same time perfectly urbane criticism of the ordinary +reviewing kind, and though they are not without instances of the +author's by-blows of slightly unproved opinion, yet these are by no +means eminent in them, and are not of a provocative nature. And I do +not think it fanciful to suppose that the note of grave if +unclassified piety, of reconciliation and resignation, with which they +close the book, was intended--that it was a deliberate "evening +voluntary" to play out of church the assistants at a most remarkable +function--such a function as criticism in English had not celebrated +before, such as, I think, it may without unfairness be said has not +been repeated since. _Essays in Criticism_, let us repeat, is a +book which is classed and placed, and it will remain in that class and +place: the fresh wreaths and the fresh mud, that may be in turn +unfitly thrown upon it, will affect neither. + +Between this remarkable book and the later ones of the same +_lustrum_, we may conveniently take up the thread of biography +proper where we last dropped it. The letters are fuller for this +period than perhaps for any other; but this very fulness makes it all +the more difficult to select incidents, never, perhaps, of the very +first importance, but vying with each other in the minor biographical +interests. A second fishing expedition to Viel Salm was attempted in +August 1862; but it did not escape the curse which seems to dog +attempts at repetition of the same pleasure. The river was hopelessly +low; the fish would not take; and the traveller came back in very +little more than "a day and a night and a morrow." By December +danger-signals are up in a letter to his mother, to the effect that +"it is intolerable absurdity to profess [who does?] to see +Christianity through the spectacles of a number of second- or +third-rate men who lived in Queen Elizabeth's time"--that time so +fertile in nothing but the second-rate and the third. But it is +followed a little later by the less disputable observation, "It is +difficult to make out exactly at what [F.D.] Maurice is driving; +perhaps he is always a little dim in his own mind" on that point. + +The illuminations at the Prince of Wales's marriage, where like other +people he found "the crowd very good-humoured," are noted; and the +beginning of _Thyrsis_ where and while the fritillaries blow. But +from the literary point of view few letters are more interesting than +a short one to Sir Mountstuart (then Mr) Grant Duff, dated May 14, +1863, in which Mr Arnold declines an edition of Heine, the loan of +which was offered for his lecture--later the well-known essay. His +object, he says, "is not so much to give a literary history of Heine's +work as to mark his place in modern European letters, and the special +tendency and significance of what he did." He will, therefore, not +even read these things of Heine's that he has not read, but will take +the _Romancero_ alone for his text, with a few quotations from +elsewhere, With a mere passing indication of the fact that Matthew +Arnold here, like every good critic of this century, avowedly pursues +that plan of "placing" writers which some of his own admirers so +foolishly decry, I may observe that this is a _locus classicus_ +for his own special kind of criticism. It is possible--I do not know +whether he did so--that Sir Mountstuart may, on receiving the letter, +have smiled and thought of "Mon siege est fait"; but I am sure he +would be the first to admit that the cases were different. I do not +myself think that Mr Arnold's strong point was that complete grasp of +a literary personality, and its place, which some critics aim at but +which few achieve. His impatience--here perhaps half implied and later +openly avowed--of the historic estimate in literature, would of itself +have made this process irksome to him. But on the lines of his own +special vocation as a critic it was not only irksome, it was +unnecessary. His function was to mark the special--perhaps it would be +safer to say _a_ special--tendency of his man, and to bring that +out with all his devices of ingenious reduplication, fascinating +rhetoric, and skilful parading of certain favourite axioms and general +principles. This function would not have been assisted--I think it +nearly certain that it would have been hampered and baulked--by that +attempt to find "the whole" which the Greek philosopher and poet so +sadly and so truly declares that few boast to find. It was a side, a +face, a phase of each man and writer, that he wished to bring out; +and, though he might sometimes exaggerate this, yet his exaggeration +was scarcely illegitimate. To bring out something he had to block out +much. If he had attempted to show the whole Goethe, the whole Heine, +the whole Homer or Shakespeare even, they would have been difficult if +not impossible to group and to compare in the fashion in which he +wished to deal with them. + +And except on the sheer assumption, which is surely a fallacy, that +_suppressio veri_ is always and not only sometimes _suggestio +falsi_, I do not see that he exceeded a due licence in this matter, +while that he was wise in his generation there can be no doubt. He +wanted to influence the average Englishman, and he knew perfectly well +there is nothing the average Englishman dislikes so much as guarded +and elaborately conditioned statements. The immense popularity and +influence of Macaulay had been due to his hatred of half-lights, of +"perhapses"; and little as Mr Arnold liked Macaulay's fiddle, he was +wise enough to borrow his rosin, albeit in disguise. If a critic makes +too many provisos, if he "buts" too much, if he attempts to paint the +warts as well as the beauties, he will be accused of want of sympathy, +he will be taxed with timorousness and hedging, at best he will be +blamed for wire-drawn and hair-splitting argument. The preambles of +exposition, the conclusions of summing up, will often be considered +tedious or impertinent. The opposite plan of selecting a nail and +hitting that on the head till you have driven it home was, in fact, as +much Mr Arnold's as it was Macaulay's. The hammer-play of the first +was far more graceful and far less monotonous: yet it was hammer-play +all the same. But we must return to our _Letters_. + +A dinner with Lord Houghton--"all the advanced Liberals in religion +and politics, and a Cingalese in full costume"--a visit to Cambridge +and a stroll to Grantchester, notice of about the first elaborate +appreciation of his critical work which had appeared in England, the +article by the late Mr S.H. Reynolds in the _Westminster Review_ +for October 1863, visits to the Rothschilds at Aston Clinton and +Mentmore, and interesting notices of the composition of the +_Joubert_, the _French Eton_, &c., fill up the year. The +death of Thackeray extracts one of those criticisms of his great +contemporaries which act as little douches from time to time, in the +words, "I cannot say that I thoroughly liked him, though we were on +friendly terms: and he was not to my mind a great writer." But the +personal reflections which follow are of value. He finds "the sudden +cessation of so vigorous an existence very sobering. To-day I am +forty-one; the middle of life in any case, and for me perhaps much +more than the middle. I have ripened and am ripening so slowly that I +should be glad of as much time as possible. Yet I can feel, I rejoice +to say, an inward spring which seems more and more to gain strength +and to promise to resist outward shocks, if they must come, however +rough. But of this inward spring one must not talk [it is only to his +mother that he writes this] for it does not like being talked about, +and threatens to depart if one will not leave it in mystery." + +An interview with Mr Disraeli at Aston Clinton, not, as one may +suppose, without pleasant words, opens 1864. "It is only from +politicians who have themselves felt the spell of literature that one +gets these charming speeches," he says, and they, not unnaturally, +charmed him so much that he left his dressing-case and his umbrella +behind him. But the anti-crusade is more and more declared. He "means +to deliver the middle-class out of the hand of their Dissenting +ministers," and in the interval wants to know how "that beast of a +word 'waggonette' is spelt?" The early summer was spent at Woodford, +on the borders of Epping Forest, and the early autumn at Llandudno, +where Welsh scenery and the poetry of the Celtic race "quite +overpower" him. Alas! some other poetry did not, and when we find him +in September thinking _Enoch Arden_ "perhaps the best thing +Tennyson has done," we are not surprised to find this remarkable +special appreciation followed by a general depreciation, which is +quite in keeping. He is even tempted (and of course asked) to write a +criticism of the Laureate, but justly replies, "How is that possible?" + +From 1865 we get numerous notices of the notices of the _Essays_, +and a pleasant and full account of a second official tour on the +Continent, with special dwellings at most of the Western and Central +European capitals. The tour lasted from April to November, and I have +sometimes thought that it might, by itself, give a better idea of Mr +Arnold as an epistoler than the _Letters_ at large seem to have +given. Early in 1866 we hear of the beginnings of the _Friendship's +Garland_ series, though the occasion for that name did not come +till afterwards. And he spent the summer of that year (as he did that +of the next) in a farmhouse at West Humble, near Dorking, while he +caught "_a_ salmon" in the Deveron during September. + +The occasion is perhaps a good one to say a few words on the relations +between Mr Arnold and M. Renan, though the latter is not so prominent +in the Continental letters as Sainte-Beuve and M. Scherer are. The +author of the _Vie de Jesus_ was a very slightly younger man than +Mr Arnold (he was born in 1823), but in consequence of his having left +the seminary and begun early to live by literary work, he was somewhat +in advance of his English compeer in literary repute. His +contributions to the _Debats_ and the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ +began to be collected soon after 1850, and his first remarkable single +book, _Averroes et l'Averroisme_, dates from that year. I do not +know how early Mr Arnold became acquainted with his written work. But +they actually met in 1859, during the business of the Foreign +Education Commission, and there is a very remarkable passage in a +letter to Mrs Forster on Christmas Eve of that year. He tells his +sister of "Ernest Renan, a Frenchman I met in Paris," and notes the +considerable resemblance between their lines of endeavour, observing, +however, that Renan is chiefly "trying to inculcate morality, in a +high sense of the word, on the French," while _he_ is trying to +inculcate intelligence on the English. After which he makes a long and +enthusiastic reference to the essay, _Sur la Poesie des Races +Celtiques_, the literary results of which we shall soon see. I do +not know whether Mr Arnold ever expressed to his intimates--for the +reference to M. Renan in "Numbers" is not quite explicit--what he +thought of those later and very peculiar developments of "morality in +a high sense of the word" which culminated in the _Abbesse de +Jouarre_ and other things. His sense of humour must have painfully +suggested to him that his own familiar friend and pattern Frenchman +had become one of the most conspicuous examples of that French +lubricity which he himself denounced. But there was no danger of his +imitating M. Renan in this respect. In others the following was quite +unmistakable, and, I am bound to say, on the whole rather disastrous. +In literary criticism Mr Arnold needed no teaching from M. Renan, and +as his English training on one of its sides preserved him from the +Frenchman's sentimental hedonism, so on another it kept him from the +wildest excesses of M. Renan's critical reconstructions of sacred +history. But he copied a great deal too much of his master's +dilettante attitude to religion as a whole, and, as we shall see, he +adopted and carried a great deal further M. Renan's (I am told) not +particularly well-informed and (I am sure) very hazardous and +fantastic ideas about Celtic literature. On the whole, the two were +far too much alike to do each other any good. Exquisite even as M. +Renan's mere style is, it is exquisite by reason of sweetness, with a +certain not quite white and slightly phosphorescent light, not by +strength or by practical and masculine force. Now it was the latter +qualities that Mr Arnold wanted; sweetness and light he could not +want. + +As the tenure of his Chair drew to a close, and as he began to loathe +examination papers more and more (indeed I know no one to whom _usus +concinnat amorem_ in the case of these documents), he made some +endeavours to obtain employment which might be, if not both more +profitable and less onerous, at any rate one or the other. First he +tried for a Charity Commissionership; then for the librarianship of +the House of Commons. For the former post it may be permitted to think +that his extremely strong--in fact partisan--opinions, both on +education and on the Church of England, were a most serious +disqualification; his appointment to the latter would have been an +honour to the House and to England, and would have shown that +sometimes at any rate the right man can find the right place. But he +got neither. He delivered his last Oxford lecture in the summer term +of 1867. I remember that there were strong undergraduate hopes that Mr +Browning, who was an Honorary M.A., might be got to succeed him; but +it was decided that the honorary qualification was insufficient, and I +daresay there were other objections. Mr Arnold had a sort of +"send-off" in the shape of two great dinners at Balliol and Merton, at +which he and Mr Browning were the principal guests, and the close of +his professorial career was further made memorable by the issue of the +_Study of Celtic Literature_ in prose and the _New Poems_ in verse, +with _Schools and Universities on the Continent_ to follow next year. +Of these something must be said before this chapter is closed. + +_On the Study of Celtic Literature_ is the first book of his to +which, as a whole, and from his own point of view, we may take rather +serious objections. That it has merits not affected by these +objections need hardly be said; indeed I think it would not be foolish +to say that it is--or was--even the superior of the _Homer_ in +comparative and indirect importance. In that Mr Arnold had but, at the +best, roused men to enter upon new ways of dealing with old and +familiar matter; in this he was leading them to conquest of new +realms. Now, as we have seen, it was exactly this exploration, this +expansion, of which English was then in most need, just as it is now +perhaps in most need of concentration and retreat upon the older +acquisitions. + +So far so good; but if we go farther, we do not at first fare better. +It would be grossly unjust to charge Mr Arnold with all the nonsense +which has since been talked about Celtic Renascences; but I fear we +cannot write all that nonsense off his account. In particular, he set +an example, which has in this and other matters been far too widely +followed, of speaking without sufficient knowledge of fact. It cannot +be too peremptorily laid down that the literary equivalent of a +"revoke"--the literary act after which, if he does it on purpose, you +must not play with a man--is speaking of authors and books which he +has not read and cannot read in the original, while he leaves you +ignorant of his ignorance. _This_ Mr Arnold never committed, and +could never have committed. But short of it, and while escaping its +penalty, a man may err by speaking too freely even of what he +confesses that he does not know; and of this minor and less +discreditable sin, I own (acknowledging most frankly that I know even +less of the _originals_ than he did), I think Mr Arnold was here +guilty. + +Exactly how much Gaelic, Irish, or Welsh Mr Arnold knew at first-hand, +I cannot say: he frankly enough confesses that his knowledge was very +closely limited. But what is really surprising, is that he does not +seem to have taken much trouble to extend it at second-hand. A very +few Welsh triads and scraps of Irish are all that, even in +translation, he seems to have consulted: he never, I think, names +Dafydd ap Gwilym, usually put forward as the greatest of Celtic poets; +and in the main his citations are derived either from _Ossian_ +("this do seem going far," as an American poetess observes), or else +from the _Mabinogion_, where some of the articles are positively +known to be late translations of French-English originals, and the +others are very uncertain. You really cannot found any safe literary +generalisations on so very small a basis of such very shaky matter. In +fact, Mr Arnold's argument for the presence of "Celtic magic," &c., in +Celtic poetry comes to something like this. "There is a quality of +magic in Shakespeare, Keats, &c.; this magic must be Celtic: therefore +it must be in Celtic poetry." Fill up the double enthymeme who list, I +am not going to endeavour to do so. I shall only say that two +sentences give the key-note of the book as argument. "Rhyme itself, +all the weight of evidence tends to show, came into our poetry from +the Celts." Now to some of us all the weight of evidence tends to show +that it came from the Latins. "Our only first-rate body of +contemporary poetry is the German." Now at the time (1867), for more +than thirty years, Germany had not had a single poet of the first or +the second class except Heine, who, as Mr Arnold himself very truly +says, was not a German but a Jew. + +But once more, what we go to Mr Matthew Arnold for is not fact, it is +not argument, it is not even learning. It is phrase, attitude, style, +that by which, as he says admirably in this very book, "what a man has +to say is recast and heightened in such a manner as to add dignity and +distinction to it." It is the new critical attitude, the appreciation +of literary beauty in and for itself, the sense of "the word," the +power of discerning and the power of reflecting charm, the method not +more different from the wooden deduction of the old school of critics +than from the merely unenlightened and Philistine commonness of the +reviewers, his earlier contemporaries, or from the aimless "I like +that" and "I don't like this" which does duty now, and did then, and +has done always, for criticism itself. True, Mr Arnold himself might +be wilful, capricious, haphazard; true, he might often be absolutely +unable to give any real reason for the faith that was in him; true, he +sometimes might have known more than he did know about his subject. +But in all these points he saved himself: in his wilfulness, by the +grace and charm that sometimes attend caprice; in his want of reason, +by his genuineness of faith itself; in his occasional lack of the +fullest knowledge, by the admirable use--not merely display--which he +made of what knowledge he had. There may be hardly a page of the two +books of his lectures in which it is not possible to find some +opportunity for disagreement--sometimes pretty grave disagreement; but +I am sure that no two more valuable books, in their kind and subject, +to their country and time, have been ever issued from the press. + +The _New Poems_ make a volume of unusual importance in the +history of poetical careers. Mr Arnold lived more than twenty years +after the date of their publication; but his poetical production +during that time filled no more than a few pages. At this date he was +a man of forty-five--an age at which the poetical impulse has been +supposed to run low, but perhaps with no sufficient reason. Poets of +such very different types as Dryden and Tennyson have produced work +equal to their best, if not actually their best, at that age and +later. Mr Browning had, a few years before, produced what are perhaps +his actually greatest volumes, _Men and Women_ and _Dramatis +Personae_, the one at forty-three, the other at fifty-two. +According to Mr Arnold's own conception of poetry-making, as depending +upon the subject and upon the just and artist-like exposition of that +subject, no age should be too late. + +Certainly this age was not too late with him. The contents all +answered strictly enough to their title, except that _Empedocles on +Etna_ and some half-dozen of its companions were, at Mr Browning's +request, reprinted from the almost unpublished volume of 1852, and +that _Thyrsis, St Brandan, A Southern Night_, and the _Grande +Chartreuse_ had made magazine appearances. Again the moment was +most important. When Mr Arnold had last made (omitting with an apology +the "transient and embarrassed phantom" of _Merope_) an +appearance in 1855, the transition age of English nineteenth-century +poetry was in full force. No one's place was safe but Tennyson's; and +even his was denied by some, including Mr Arnold himself, who never +got his eyes quite clear of scales in that matter. Browning, though he +had handed in indisputable proofs, had not yet had them allowed; the +Spasmodics had not disappeared; the great prae-Raphaelite school was +but on the way. The critics knew not what to think; the vulgar thought +(to the tune of myriad copies) of Tupper. Both classes, critic and +public, rent _Maud_ and neglected _Men and Women: The Defence +of Guenevere_ had not yet rung the matins--bell in the ears of the +new generation. + +Now things were all altered. The mixture of popularity and perfection +in the _Idylls_ and the _Enoch Arden_ volume--the title poem +and _Aylmer's Field_ for some, _The Voyage_ and _Tithonus_ and _In the +Valley of Cauterets_ for others--had put Tennyson's place + + "Beyond the arrows, shouts, and views of men." + +The three-volume collection of Browning's _Poems_, and +_Dramatis Personae_ which followed to clench it, had nearly, if +not quite, done the same for him. _The Defence of Guenevere_ and +_The Life and Death of Jason, Atalanta, Chastelard_, and most of +all the _Poems and Ballads_, had launched an entirely new +poetical school with almost unexampled pomp and promise on the world. +The Spasmodics were forgotten, the Tupper cult had been nearly (not +yet quite) laughed out of existence. That Mr Arnold's own poems had +had any widely extended sale or reading could hardly be said; but they +were read by those who were or were shortly to be themselves read. You +had not to look far in any Oxford college (I cannot speak of +Cambridge) before you found them on those undergraduate shelves which +mean so much; while many who, from general distaste to poetry or from +accident, knew them not, or hardly knew them, were familiar with their +author's prose work, or at least knew him as one whom others knew. + +The volume itself was well calculated to take advantage, to at least a +moderate extent, of this conjunction of circumstance. At no time was +the appeal of Mr Arnold's poetry of the most impetuous or peremptory +order. And it might be contended that this collection contains nothing +quite up to the very best things of the earlier poems, to the +_Shakespeare_ sonnet, to _The Scholar-Gipsy_, to the _Isolation_ +stanzas. But with the majority of its readers it was sure rather to +send them to these earlier things than to remind them thereof, and its +own attractions were abundant, various, and strong. + +In the poet himself there was perhaps a slight consciousness of "the +silver age." The prefatory _Stanzas_, a title changed in the +collected works to _Persistency of Poetry_, sound this note-- + + "Though the Muse be gone away, + Though she move not earth to-day, + Souls, erewhile who caught her word, + Ah! still harp on what they heard." + +A confession perhaps a little dangerous, when the Muses were speaking +in no uncertain tones not merely to juniors like Mr Morris and Mr +Swinburne but to seniors like Tennyson and Browning. But the actual +contents were more than reassuring. Of _Empedocles_ it is not +necessary to speak again: _Thyrsis_ could not but charm. The +famous line, + + "And that sweet city with her dreaming spires," + +sets the key dangerously high; but it is kept by the magnificent +address to the cuckoo, + + "Too quick despairer, wherefore wilt thou go?" + +and the flower-piece that follows; by that other single masterpiece, + + "The coronals of that forgotten time;" + +by the more solemn splendour of the stanza beginning + + "And long the way appears which seemed so short;" + +by the Signal tree; and by the allegoric close with the reassertion of +the Scholar. All these things stand by themselves, hold their sure and +reserved place, even in the rush and crowd of the poetry of the +sixties, the richest, perhaps, since the time from 1805 to 1822. + +_Saint Brandan_, which follows, has pathos if not great power, +and connects itself agreeably with those Celtic and mediaeval studies +which had just attracted and occupied Mr Arnold. The sonnets which +form the next division might be variously judged. None of them equals +the _Shakespeare_; and one may legitimately hold the opinion that +the sonnet was not specially Mr Arnold's form. Its greatest examples +have always been reached by the reflex, the almost combative, action +of intense poetic feeling--Shakespeare's, Milton's, Wordsworth's, +Rossetti's--and intensity was not Mr Arnold's characteristic. Yet +_Austerity of Poetry, East London_, and _Monica's Last Prayer_ must +always stand so high in the second class that it is hardly critical +weakness to allow them the first. And then the tide rises. _Calais +Sands_ may not be more than very pretty, but it is that, and _Dover +Beach_ is very much more. Mr Arnold's theological prepossessions and +assumptions may appear in it, and it may be unfortunately weak as an +argument, for except the flood itself nothing is so certain a +testimony to the flood as the ebb. But the order, the purpose, the +argument, the subject, matter little to poetry. The expression, the +thing that is _not_ the subject, the tendency outside the subject, +which makes for poetry, are here, and almost of the very best. Here +you have that passionate interpretation of life, which is so different +a thing from the criticism of it; that marvellous pictorial effect to +which the art of line and colour itself is commonplace and _banal_, +and which prose literature never attains except by a _tour de force_; +that almost more marvellous accompaniment of vowel and consonant +music, independent of the sense but reinforcing it, which is the glory +of English poetry among all, and of nineteenth-century poetry among +all English, poetries. As is the case with most Englishmen, the sea +usually inspired Mr Arnold--it is as natural to great English poets to +leave the echo of the very word ringing at the close of their verse as +it was to Dante to end with "stars." But it has not often inspired any +poet so well as this, nor anywhere this poet better than here. If at +any time a critic may without fatuity utter judgment with some +confidence, it is where he disagrees with the sentiment and admires +the poem; and for my part I find in _Dover Beach_, even without the +_Merman_, without the _Scholar-Gipsy_, without _Isolation_, a document +which I could be content to indorse "Poetry, _sans phrase_." + +_The Terrace at Berne_ has been already dealt with, but that mood for +epicede, which was so frequent in Mr Arnold, finds in the _Carnac_ +stanzas adequate, and in _A Southern Night_ consummate, expression. +_The Fragment of Chorus of a Dejaneira_, written long before, but now +first published, has the usual faults of Mr Arnold's rhymeless verse. +It is really quite impossible, when one reads such stuff as-- + + "Thither in your adversity + Do you betake yourselves for light, + But strangely misinterpret all you hear. + For you will not put on + New hearts with the inquirer's holy robe + And purged considerate minds"-- + +not to ask what, poetically speaking, is the difference between this +and the following-- + + "To college in the pursuit of duly + Did I betake myself for lecture; + But very soon I got extremely wet, + For I had not put on + The stout ulster appropriate to Britain, + And my umbrella was at home." + +But _Palladium_, if not magnificent, is reconciling, the Shakespearian +_Youth's Agitations_ beautiful, and _Growing Old_ delightful, not +without a touch of terror. It is the reply, the _verneinung_, to +Browning's magnificent _Rabbi ben Ezra_, and one has almost to fly to +that stronghold in order to resist its chilling influence. But it is +poetry for all that, and whatever there is in it of weakness is +redeemed, though not quite so poetically, by _The Last Word_. The +_Lines written in Kensington Gardens_ (which had appeared with +_Empedocles_, but were missed above) may be half saddened, half +endeared to some by their own remembrance of the "black-crowned +red-boled" giants there celebrated--trees long since killed by London +smoke, as the good-natured say, as others, by the idiotic tidiness of +the gardeners, who swept the needles up and left the roots without +natural comfort and protection. And then, after lesser things, the +interesting, if not intensely poetical, _Epilogue to Lessing's +Laocoon_ leads us to one of the most remarkable of all Mr Arnold's +poems, _Bacchanalia, or the New Age_. The word remarkable has been +used advisedly. _Bacchanalia_, though it has poignant and exquisite +poetic moments, is not one of the most specially _poetical_ of its +author's pieces. But it is certainly his only considerable piece of +that really poetic humour which is so rare and delightful a thing. +And, like all poetic humour, it oscillates between cynicism and +passion almost bewilderingly. For a little more of this what pages and +pages of jocularity about Bottles and the Rev. Esau Hittall would we +not have given! what volumes of polemic with the _Guardian_ and +amateur discussions of the Gospel of St John! In the first place, note +the metrical structure, the sober level octosyllables of the overture +changing suddenly to a dance-measure which, for a wonder in English, +almost keeps the true dactylic movement. How effective is the +rhetorical iteration of + + "The famous orators have shone, + The famous poets sung and gone," + +and so on for nearly half a score of lines! How perfect the sad +contrast of the refrain-- + + "_Ah! so the quiet was! + So was the hush!_" + +how justly set and felicitously worded the rural picture of the +opening! how riotous the famous irruption of the New Agers! how +adequate the quiet-moral of the end, that the Past is as the Present, +and more also! And then he went and wrote about Bottles! + +"Progress," with a splendid opening-- + + "The master stood upon the mount and taught-- + He saw a fire in his disciples' eyes,"-- + +conducts us to two other fine, though rhymeless, dirges. In the first, +_Rugby Chapel_, the intensity of feeling is sufficient to carry off +the lack of lyrical accomplishment. The other is the still better +_Heine's Grave_, and contains the famous and slightly pusillanimous +lines about the "weary Titan," which are among the best known of their +author's, and form at once the motto and the stigma of mid-century +Liberal policy. And then the book is concluded by two other +elegies--in rhyme this time--_The Stanzas written at the Grande +Chartreuse_ and _Obermann once more_. They are, however, elegies of a +different kind, much more self-centred, and, indeed, little more than +fresh variations on "the note," as I ventured to call it before. Their +descriptive and autobiographic interest is great, and if poetry were a +criticism of life, there is plenty of that of them. The third +book--_Schools and Universities on the Continent_ (1868)--in which are +put the complete results of the second Continental exploration--is, I +suppose, much less known than the non-professional work, though +perhaps not quite so unknown as the earlier report on elementary +education. By far the larger part of it--the whole, indeed, except a +"General Conclusion" of some forty pages--is a reasoned account of the +actual state of matters in France, Italy, Germany, and Switzerland. It +is not exactly judicial; for the conclusion--perhaps the foregone +conclusion--obviously colours every page. But it is an excellent +example (as, indeed, is all its author's non-popular writing) of clear +and orderly exposition--never arranged _ad captandum_, but also never +"dry." Indeed there certainly are some tastes, and there may be many, +to which the style is a distinct relief after the less quiet and more +mannered graces of some of the rest. + +Opinions may differ more as to the value of the book as a lesson, or +as an argument. Mr Arnold had started with a strong belief in the +desirableness--indeed of the necessity--of State-control of the most +thoroughgoing kind in education; and he was not at all likely to miss +the opportunity of fetching new weapons from the very arsenals and +_places d'armes_ of that system. He was thoroughly convinced that +English ways generally, and especially the ways of English schools and +colleges, were wrong; and he had, of course, no difficulty in pointing +triumphantly to the fact that, if the institutions of Continental +countries differed in some ways from each other, they all differed in +nearly the same way from ours. It may undoubtedly be claimed for +him--by those who see any force in the argument--that events have +followed him. Education, both secondary and university in England, +_has_ to a large extent gone since on the lines he indicates; the +threatened superiority of the German bagman has asserted itself even +more and more; the "teaching of literature" has planted a terrible +fixed foot in our schools and colleges. But perhaps the weight usually +assigned to this kind of corroboration is rather imaginary. That a +thing has happened does not prove that it ought to have happened, +except on a theory of determinism, which puts "conduct" out of sight +altogether. There are those who will still, in the vein of +Mephistopheles-Akinetos, urge that the system which gave us the men +who pulled us out of the Indian Mutiny can stand comparison with the +system which gave France the authors of the _debacle_; that the +successes of Germany over France in war have no necessary connection +with education, and those of Germany over England in commerce, +diplomacy, &c., still less. They will even go further--some of +them--and ask whether the Continental practices and the Arnoldian +principles do not necessitate divers terribly large and terribly +ill-based assumptions, as that all men are _educable_, that the value +of education is undiminished by its diffusion, that all, or at least +most, subjects are capable of being made educational instruments, and +a great many more. + +On the other hand, they will cheerfully grant that Mr Arnold never +succumbed to that senseless belief in examination which has done, and +is doing, such infinite harm. But they will add to the debit side that +the account of English university studies which ends the book was even +at the time of writing so inaccurate as to be quite incomprehensible, +unless we suppose that Mr Arnold was thinking of the days of his own +youth, and not of those with complete accuracy. He says "the +examination for the degree of bachelor of arts, which we place at the +end of our three years' university course, is merely the +_Abiturienten-examen_ of Germany, the _epreuve du baccalaureat_ of +France, placed in both those countries at the entrance to university +studies"; and it is by this that he justifies Signer Matteucci's +absurd description of Oxford and Cambridge as _hauts lycees_ Now, in +the first place, there is not one single word in this sentence, or in +the context, or, so far as I remember, in the whole book, about the +Honours system, which for very many years before 1868 had exalted the +standard infinitely higher in the case of a very large proportion of +men. And in the second place, there is not a word about the +Scholarship system, which in the same way had for very many years +provided an entrance standard actually higher--far higher in some +ways--than the _concluding_ examinations of the French _baccalaureat_. +My own days at Oxford were from 1863 to 1868, the year of Mr Arnold's +book. During that time there were always in the university some 400 +men who had actually obtained scholarships on this standard; and a +very considerable number who had competed on it, and done fairly. +Whether Mr Arnold shared Mark Pattison's craze about the abolition of +the pass-man altogether, I do not know. But he ought to have known, +and I should think he must have known, that at the time of his writing +the mere and sheer pass-man--the man whose knowledge was represented +by the minimum of Smalls, Mods, and Greats--was, if not actually in a +minority,--in some colleges at least he was that--at any rate in a +pretty bare majority. With his love of interference and control, he +might have retorted that this did not matter, that the university +_permitted_ every one to stick to the minimum. But as a matter of fact +he suggests that it provided no alternative, no _maximum_ or _majus_ +at all. + +By the time that we have now reached, that of his giving up the +professorship, Mr Arnold's position was, for good and for evil, mostly +fixed. When he took up the duties of his chair he was, though by no +means a very young man and already the author of much remarkable work, +yet almost unknown out of Oxford and a small official circle in +London. He had now, at forty-five, not exactly popularity, but a very +considerable, and a very lively and growing, reputation. By far the +most and the best of his poetry was written; but it was only just +coming to be at all generally read or at all justly appreciated. He +had, partly in obeying, and partly in working against his official +superiors, acquired a distinct position as an educational reformer. He +had become something of a figure in society. But, above all, he had +proclaimed with undoubting authority, and had exemplified with +remarkable and varied skill, a new or at least a very greatly altered +kind of literary criticism. And this had already threatened incursions +into domains from which men of letters as such had generally kept +aloof, or which, if they had touched, they had touched not as men of +letters. Something of Socrates, something of Addison, something of +Johnson, mingled in Mr Arnold's presentation of himself as, if not +exactly an arbiter, at any rate a suggester of elegances in all +things, poetry and politics, prose and polite manners, public thought, +public morality, religion itself. These pretensions, if urged in a +less agreeable manner, would have been intolerable; they were not +universally tolerated as it was: but the gifts and graces of the +critic made them--so far--inoffensive, even rather fascinating, to all +save the least accommodating or the most clear-sighted, and to some +even of these. + +And we must remember that this appearance of Mr Arnold as the mild and +ingenious tamer of the ferocious manners of Britons coincided with far +wider and more remarkable innovations. This was the time, at home, of +the second Parliamentary Reform, which did at least as much to +infringe the authority of his enemy the Philistine, as the first had +done to break the power of the half-dreaded, half-courted Barbarian. +This was the time when, abroad, the long-disguised and disorganised +power of Germany was to rearrange the map of Europe, and to bring +about a considerable rearrangement of Mr Arnold's own ideas as to the +respective greatness of foreign nations. And finally the walls of +another stronghold of British Philistia, its intense and apparently +impregnable self-satisfaction with Free-trade and cheap money and so +forth, were tottering and crumbling. A blast against them--indeed a +series of blasts from _Chartism_ to the _Latter-day +Pamphlets_--had been blown long before by Carlyle, in very +different tones from Mr Arnold's. They had lost their stoutest +champion and their most eloquent panegyrist in Macaulay. But Sadowa +and household suffrage gave the final summons, if not the final shake. +Mr Arnold had done his best to co-operate; but his object, to do him +justice, was to be rather a raiser of the walls of Thebes than an +over-thrower of those of Jericho, or even of Ashdod. He set about, in +all seriousness, to clear away the rubbish and begin the +re-edification; unluckily, in but too many cases, with dubious +judgment, and by straying into quarters where he had no vocation. But +he never entirely neglected his real business and his real vocation, +and fortunately he returned to them almost entirely before it was too +late. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +IN THE WILDERNESS. + + +That the end of Mr Arnold's tenure of the Professorship of Poetry was +a most important epoch in his life is sufficiently evident. In the ten +years that came to an end then, he had, as two such extremely +competent judges as Mr Disraeli and Crabb Robinson in different ways +told him,[1] passed from comparative obscurity into something more +than comparative prominence. His chair had been for him a real +_cathedra_, and his deliverances from it had always assumed, and +had at length, to a great extent, achieved, real authority. In +criticism it was evident that if he had not revealed positively novel +aspects of truth, he had formulated and put on record aspects which +were presenting themselves to many, nay, most, of the best critical +minds of his day. His criticism had drawn his poetry with it, if not +into actual popularity, yet into something like attention. His +attempts to obtain some other employment less irksome, less absorbing, +and more profitable, had indeed been unsuccessful; but he was rising +in his own department, and his work, if still in part uncongenial and +decidedly laborious, appears to have been much less severe than in +earlier days. Partly this work itself, partly his writings, and partly +other causes had opened to him a very large circle of acquaintance, +which it was in his own power to extend or contract as he pleased. His +domestic life was perfectly happy, if his means were not very great: +and his now assured literary position made it easy for him to increase +these means, not indeed largely, but to a not despicable extent, by +writing. The question was, "What should he write?" + +It is probably idle ever to wish that a man had done anything +different from that which he has done. Without being a rigid +Determinist, one may be pretty well convinced that the actual conduct +is the joint result of abilities, and of desires, and of opportunity +to exercise them, and that the man, had he really done otherwise, +would have been unsuccessful or unhappy or both. But I fear that if I +had been arbiter of Mr Arnold's fate at this moment I should have +arranged it differently. He should have given us more poems--the man +who, far later, wrote the magnificent _Westminster Abbey_ on such a +subject as Dean Stanley, had plenty more poetry in his sack. And in +prose he should have given us infinite essays, as many as De Quincey's +or as Sainte-Beuve's own, and more than Hazlitt's, of the kind of the +_Heine_ and the _Joubert_ earlier, of the _Wordsworth_ and the _Byron_ +later. I can see no reason why, in the twenty-one years' lease of life +upon which he now entered, he should not have produced a volume a-year +of these,--there are more than enough subjects in the various +literatures that he knew; and though it is possible that in such +extended application his method might have proved monotonous, or his +range have seemed narrow, it is not likely. To complete the thing, I +should have given him, instead of his inspectorship, a headship at +Oxford, for which, it seems to me, he was admirably fitted. But _Dis +aliter visum_: at least it seemed otherwise good to Mr Arnold himself +as far as his literary employments were concerned, and the gods did +not interfere. + +We have seen that he had, some years before, conceived the ambitious +idea of changing the mind of England on a good many points by no means +merely literary; and he seems, not altogether unnaturally, to have +thought that now was the time to apply seriously to that work. His +tenure of the Oxford chair had given him the public ear; and the +cessation of that tenure had removed any official seal of etiquette +which it might have laid on his own lips. A far less alert and acute +mind than his must have seen that the Reform troubles of 1866 and the +"leap in the dark" of 1867 were certain to bring about very great +changes indeed at home; and that the war of the first-named year meant +the alteration of many things abroad. He at least thought--and there +was some justification of a good many kinds for him in thinking--that +intellectual changes, of importance equal to the political, were +coming or come upon the world. And so for a time he seems to have +grown rather cold towards the Muses, his earliest and always his +truest loves. Social, political, and religious matters tempted him +away from literature; and for a matter of ten years it can hardly be +said that he had anything to do with her except to take her name in +vain in the title of by far his worst, as it was by far his most +popular, volume. + +It has been hinted in a note on one of the early pages in this book +that the secret of this unfortunate twist is at least partly to be +found in the peculiar character of Mr Arnold's official employment. +For nearly twenty years he had been constantly thrown into contact +with the English Dissenters; and, far earlier than the time which we +have reached, they seem not only, in familiar phrase, to have "got +upon his nerves," but to have affected his brain. He saw all things in +Dissent--or, at least, in the middle-class Philistine Dissenter. His +Philistia is not in the least a true portrait of the average +middle-class household thirty or forty years ago; though, I daresay (I +have little direct knowledge), it is not an unfair one of the average +Dissenting middle-class household. The religion which Mr Arnold +attacks is not the religion of the Church of England at all, or only +of what was even then a decaying and uninfluential part of it, the +extremer and more intolerant sect of the Evangelicals. Once more, I +cannot from personal knowledge say whether this portrait was true of +Dissent, but I can believe it. + +Now, to derive an idea of England from the English Dissenter is and +was absurd. Politically, indeed, he had only too much power between +1832 and 1866, from the tradition which made Liberal politicians fond +of petting him. Socially, intellectually, and to a great extent +religiously, he had next to no power at all. To take the average +manager of a "British" school as the average representative of the +British nation was the wildest and most mischievous of confusions. Yet +this practically was the basis of Mr Arnold's crusade between 1867 and +1877. + +The First Blast of the Trumpet was, intentionally no doubt, the last +of the Oxford lectures, and for that very reason a rather gentle and +insinuating one. _Culture its Enemies_, which was the origin and +first part, so to say, of _Culture and Anarchy_, carried the +campaign begun in the _Essays in Criticism_ forward; but only in +the most cautious manner, a caution no doubt partly due to the fact of +the author's expressed, and very natural and proper, intention of +closing his professorial exercises with the _bocca dolce_. Still +this is at least conceivably due to the fact that the boldest +extension of the campaign itself had not definitely entered, or at +least possessed, the author's mind. A considerable time, indeed from +July 1867 to January 1868, passed before the publication of the +lecture as an article in the _Cornhill_ was followed up by the +series from the latter month to August, which bore the general title +of _Anarchy and Authority_, and completed the material of +_Culture and Anarchy_ itself. This, as a book, appeared in 1869. + +It began, according to the author's favourite manner, which was +already passing into something like a mannerism, with a sort of +half-playful, half-serious battery against a living writer (in this +case Mr Frederic Harrison), and with a laudatory citation from a dead +one (in this case Bishop Wilson). Mr Harrison had blasphemed "the cant +about culture," and Mr Arnold protests that culture's only aim is in +the Bishop's words, "to make reason and the will of God prevail." In +the first chapter, famous thenceforward in English literature by its +title, borrowed from Swift, of "Sweetness and Light," we have the old +rallyings of the _Daily Telegraph_ and the _Nonconformist_. +Then the general view is laid down, and is developed in those that +follow, but still with more of a political than a religious bent, and +with the political bent itself chiefly limited to the social aspect. + +"Doing as one Likes" scatters a mild rain of ridicule on this supposed +fetich of all classes in England; and then, the very famous, if not +perhaps very felicitous, nickname-classification of +"Barbarian-Philistine-Populace" is launched, defended, discussed in a +chapter to itself. To do Mr Arnold justice, the three classes are, if +not very philosophically defined, very impartially and amusingly +rallied, the rallier taking up that part of humble Philistine +conscious of his own weaknesses, which, till he made it slightly +tiresome by too long a run, was piquant enough. The fourth chapter, +"Hebraism and Hellenism," coasts the sands and rocks (on which, as it +seems to some, Mr Arnold was later to make shipwreck) very nearly in +the title and rather nearly in the contents, but still with a fairly +safe offing. The opposition might be put too bluntly by saying that +"Hellenism" represents to Mr Arnold the love of truth at any price, +and "Hebraism" the love of goodness at any price; but the actual +difference is not far from this, or from those of knowing and doing, +fear of stupidity and fear of sin, &c. We have the quotation from Mr +Carlyle about Socrates being "terribly at ease in Zion," the +promulgation of the word Renascence for Renaissauce, and so forth. +"Porro unum est necessarium," a favourite tag of Mr Arnold's, rather +holds up another side of the same lesson than continues it in a fresh +direction; and then "Our Liberal Practitioners" brings it closer to +politics, but (since the immediate subject is the Disestablishment of +the Irish Church) nearer also to the quicksands. Yet Mr Arnold still +keeps away from them; though from what followed it would seem that he +could only have done so by some such _tour de force_ as the +famous "clubhauling" in _Peter Simple_. Had _Culture and +Anarchy_ stood by itself, it would have been, though very far from +its author's masterpiece, an interesting document both in regard to +his own mental history and that of England during the third quarter of +the century, containing some of his best prose, and little, if any, of +his worst sense. + +But your crusader--still more your anti-crusader--never stops, and Mr +Arnold was now pledged to this crusade or anti-crusade. In October +1869 he began, still in the _Cornhill_,--completing it by further +instalments in the same place later in the year, and publishing it in +1870,--the book called _St Paul and Protestantism_, where he +necessarily exchanges the mixed handling of _Culture and Anarchy_ +for a dead-set at the religious side of his imaginary citadel of +Philistia. The point of at least ostensible connection--of real +departure--is taken from the "Hebraism and Hellenism" contrast of the +earlier book; and the same contrast is strongly urged throughout, +especially in the _coda_, "A Comment on Christmas." But this +contrast is gradually shaped into an onslaught on Puritanism, or +rather on its dogmatic side, for its appreciation of "conduct" of +morality is ever more and more eulogised. As regards the Church of +England herself, the attack is oblique; in fact, it is disclaimed, and +a sort of a Latitudinarian Union, with the Church for centre, and +dogma left out, is advocated. Another of our Arnoldian friends, the +"Zeit-Geist," makes his appearance, and it is more than hinted that +one of the most important operations of this spirit is the exploding +of miracles. The book is perfectly serious--its seriousness, indeed, +is quite evidently deliberate and laboured, so that the author does +not even fear to appear dull. But it is still admirably written, as +well as studiously moderate and reverent; no exception can be taken to +it on the score of taste, whatever may be taken on the score of +orthodoxy from the one side, where no doubt the author would hasten to +plead guilty, or on those of logic, history, and the needs of human +nature on the other, where no doubt his "not guilty" would be equally +emphatic. + +The case is again altered, and very unfortunately altered, in the +next, the most popular and, as has been said, the most famous of the +series--its zenith at once and its nadir--_Literature and Dogma_. +A very much smaller part of this had appeared in magazine form; +indeed, the contents of _St Paul and Protestantism_ itself must +have seemed odd in that shape, and only strong sympathies on the part +of the editor could have obtained admission for any part of +_Literature and Dogma_. Much of it must have been written amid +the excitement of the French-Prussian War, when the English public was +athirst for "skits" of all sorts, and when Mr Arnold himself was "i' +the vein," being engaged in the composition of much of the matter of +_Friendship's Garland_. _St Paul and Protestantism_ had had +two editions in the same year (_Culture and Anarchy_, a far +better thing, waited six for its second), and altogether the state of +things was such as to invite any author to pursue the triumph and +partake the gale. And he might at first flatter himself that he had +caught the one and made cyclone-use of the other; for the book, +appearing at the end of 1872, with the date of 1873, passed through +three editions in that year, a fourth in 1874, and a fifth two years +later. It was thus by far Mr Arnold's most popular book; I repeat also +that it is quite his worst. + +That it was in hopelessly bad taste here and there--in taste so bad +that Mr Arnold himself later cut out the most famous passage of the +book, to which accordingly we need here only allude--can be denied by +nobody except those persons who hold "good form" to be, as somebody or +other puts it, "an insular British delusion of the fifties and +sixties." But this excision of his and, I think, some others, besides +the "citations and illustrations" which he confesses to having +excluded from the popular edition, may give us the welcome leave to +deal very briefly with this side of the matter in other respects also. +We may pass over the fun which Mr Arnold had with Archbishop Thomson +(who, whatsoe'er the failings on his part, was at any rate a logician) +on the theory of causation; with the University of Cambridge about +_hominum divomque voluptas alma Venus_ (I have forgotten what was +the bearing of this joke, and it is probably not worth inquiring +into); with the Bishop of Gloucester about the Personality of God; +with the Athanasian Creed, and its "science got ruffled by fighting." +These things, as "form," class themselves; one mutters something well +known about _risu inepto_, and passes on. Such a tone on such a +subject can only be carried off completely by the gigantic strength of +Swift, though no doubt it is well enough in keeping with the merely +negative and destructive purpose of Voltaire. It would be cruel to +bring _Literature and Dogma_ into competition with _A Tale of a +Tub_; it would be more than unjust to bring it into comparison with +_Le Taureau blanc_. And neither comparison is necessary, because +the great fault of _Literature and Dogma_ appears, not when it is +considered as a piece of doubtful or not doubtful taste, but when it +is regarded as a serious composition. + +In the first place, the child-like fashion in which Mr Arnold +swallowed the results of that very remarkable "science," Biblical +criticism, has always struck some readers with astonishment and a kind +of terror. This new La Fontaine asking everybody, "Avez-vous lu +Kuenen?" is a lesson more humbling to the pride of literature than +almost any that can be found. "The prophecy of the details of Peter's +death," we are told in _Literature and Dogma_, "is almost +certainly an addition after the event, _because it is not at all in +the manner of Jesus_." Observe that we have absolutely no details, +no evidence of any sort whatever, outside the Gospels for the "manner +of Jesus." It is not, as in some at least of the more risky exercises +of profane criticism in a similar field, as if we had some absolutely +or almost absolutely authenticated documents, and others to judge by +them. External evidence, except for the mere fact of Christ's +existence and death, we have none. So you must, by the inner light, +pick and choose out of the very same documents, resting on the very +same authority, what, according to your good pleasure, is "in the +manner of Jesus," and then black-mark the rest as being not so. Of +course, when Mr Arnold thus wrote, the method had not been pushed +_ad absurdum_, as it was later by his friend M. Renan in the +_Histoire d'Israel_, to the dismay and confusion of no less +intelligent and unorthodox a critic than his other friend, M. Scherer. +But it is more or less the method of all Biblical criticism of this +sort, and Mr Arnold follows it blindly. + +Again, the chief bent of the book is to establish that "miracles do +not happen." Alas! it is Mr Arnold's unhappy lot that if miracles +_do_ happen his argument confessedly disappears, while even if +miracles do not happen it is, for his purpose, valueless. Like almost +all critics of his class recently, especially like Professor Huxley in +another division, he appears not to comprehend what, to the believers +in the supernatural, the supernatural means. He applies, as they all +apply, the tests of the natural, and says, "Now really, you know, +these tests are destructive." He says--he cannot prove--that miracles +do not happen now; his adversaries, if they were wise, would simply +answer, "_Apres?_" Do any of them pretend to prescribe to their +God that His methods shall be always the same, or that those methods +shall stand the tests of the laboratory and the School of Charters? +that He shall give "a good title," like a man who is selling a house? +Some at least would rather not; they would feel appallingly little +interest in a Divinity after this sworn-attorney and +chartered-accountant fashion, who must produce vouchers for all His +acts. And further (to speak with reverence), the Divinity whom they +_do_ worship would be likely to answer Mr Arnold in the words of +a prophet of Mr Arnold's own-- + + "Du gleichst dem Geist den du begreifst, + Nicht Mir!" + +But this is not all. There is not only begging of the question but +ignoring of the issue. _Literature and Dogma_, to do it strict +justice, is certainly not, in intention at any rate, a destructive +book. It is meant, and meant very seriously, to be constructive--to +provide a substitute for the effete religion of Hooker and Wilson, of +Laud and Pusey, as well as for that of Baxter and Wesley and Mr Miall. +This new religion is to have for its Jachin Literature--that is to +say, a delicate aesthetic appreciation of all that is beautiful in +Christianity and out of it; and for its Boaz Conduct--that is to say, +a morality at least as rigid as that of the purest Judaism, though +more amiable. If dogma is to be banished, so is anything like licence; +and in the very book itself Mr Arnold formulated, against his once +(and still partly) beloved France, something like that denunciation of +her worship of Lubricity which he afterwards put more plainly still. +Even Hellenism, the lauded Hellenism, is told to mend its ways (indeed +there was need for it), and the Literature-without-Dogmatist will have +to behave himself with an almost Pharisaic correctness, though in +point of belief he is to be piously Sadducee. + +Now this is all very pretty and very creditable, but it will not work. +The goods, to use the vulgar but precise formula of English law, "are +not of the nature and quality demanded by the purchaser." Nobody wants +a religion of that sort. Conduct is good; poetic appreciation is +perhaps better, though not for the general. But then religion happens +to be something different from either, though no doubt closely +connected with both. Mr Arnold does not exactly offer us a stone for +bread, but he does, like the benevolent French princess in the story, +offer us pie-crust. Pie-crust is a good thing; it is a close +connection of bread; but it will not do for a substitute, and, in +addition, it is much more difficult for the general to obtain. +Moreover, there is a serious, a historical, difficulty about Conduct +_plus_ poetic appreciation, but _minus_ what we call religion. Mr +Arnold, in a stately sonnet, has told us that Sophocles was his ideal +as a life-philosopher who was also a poet. He knew, presumably, the +stories told about Sophocles in Athenaeus, and though these might be +idle scandal, he knew far too much not to be aware that there is +nothing intrinsically impossible about them. It would have been rather +interesting to hear him fully on this subject. But he was too busy +with expatiating on the sweet reasonableness of Jesus and "the +_Aberglaube_ of the Second Advent" to trouble himself with awkward +matters of this kind at the moment. + +It may be suspected, however, that he did trouble himself with them, +or with something like them, afterwards. The book--a deliberate +provocation--naturally found plenty of respondents, though I do not +remember that any one smashed it, as, for instance, Dean Mansel could +have done if he had been alive, or as Cardinal Newman could, had he +been still in the fold. Mr Arnold was perhaps not less really +disquieted by its comparative popularity. For he had quite enough of +Phocion in him to feel, if not to say, that he must have said +something at least ambiguous, when the multitude applauded. At any +rate, though the ill-omened series did not cease, nothing further +appeared in it which showed the tone of _Literature and Dogma_. +Indeed, of the concluding volumes, _God and the Bible_ and +_Last Essays on Church and Religion_, the first is an elaborate +and rather anxious apology, and the second a collection of diverse and +comparatively "anodyne" essays. It is significant--as showing how much +of the success of _Literature and Dogma_ had been a success of +scandal--that neither of these volumes enjoyed the least popularity. +_God and the Bible_ was never reprinted till the popular edition +of the series thus far in 1884; and _Last Essays_ was never +reprinted at all, or had not been up to the date of the invaluable +_Bibliography_ of the works. Indeed the copies now, 1899, on sale +appear to be of the first edition. This cool reception does not +discredit either Barbarians or Philistines or Populace. There are good +things in the _Last Essays_ (to which we shall return), but the +general effect of them is that of a man who is withdrawing from a +foray, not exactly beaten, but unsuccessful and disgusted, and is +trying to cover his retreat by alarums and excursions. + +_God and the Bible_ tells much the same tale. It originally +appeared by instalments in the _Contemporary Review_, where it +must have been something of a choke-pear even for the readers of that +then young and thoughtful periodical. Unless the replier has the +vigour of Swift, or at least of Bentley, the adroitness in fence of +Pascal, or at least of Voltaire, "replies, duplies, quadruplies" are +apt to be wofully tedious reading, and Mr Arnold was rather a +_veles_ than a _triarius_ of controversy. He could harass, +but he did not himself stand harassing very well; and here he was not +merely the object of attacks from all sides, but was most uneasily +conscious that, in some cases at least, he did not wish his enemies to +destroy each other. He had absolutely no sympathy with the rabid +anti-Christianity of Clifford, very little with the mere agnosticism +of Huxley; he wanted to be allowed to take just so much Biblical +criticism as suited him and no more. He wished to prove, in his own +remarkable way, the truth and necessity of Christianity, and to this +wish the contradictions of sinners were too manifold. One must be +stony-hearted not to feel some pity for him, as, just when he thinks +he has evaded an orthodox brick, the tile of a disbeliever in the +Fourth Gospel whizzes at him; or as, while he is trying to patch up +his romantic reconstructions of imaginary Jewish history and religion, +the push of some aggressive reviewer bids him make good his challenge +to metaphysical theologians. But this interest is only passing. + +In the Preface there is indeed some of the old attempt at liveliness. +Professor Clifford himself, then dead, is disposed of with a not +ungraceful mixture of pity and satire; Messrs Moody and Sankey are not +unpleasantly rallied; Satan and Tisiphone, Mr Ruskin and Sir Robert +Phillimore, once more remind one of the groves of Blarney or the more +doubtful chorus in the _Anti-Jacobin_. But the apologist is not +really light-hearted: he cannot keep the more solemn part of his +apologia out of the Preface itself, and assures us that the story of +Adam's fall "is all a legend. It never really happened, any of it." +Again one asks Mr Arnold, as seriously as possible, "How _do_ you +know that? On your own calculus, with your own estimate of evidence, +how is it possible for you to know that? You may, on your principles, +say that you are insufficiently persuaded that it _did_ happen; +but how can you, without preternatural revelation (the very thing you +will not admit) say that it did _not?_ Surely there is some want +of intellectual seriousness in thus lightly ignoring every rule of law +and logic, of history and of common-sense?" + +But the embarrassment thus revealed naturally shows itself even more +in the book itself, notwithstanding the fact that Mr Arnold expressly +declines to reply to those who have attacked _Literature and +Dogma_ as anti-Christian and irreligious. Not even by summarily +banishing this not inconsiderable host can he face the rest +comfortably: and he has to resort to the strangest reasons of defence, +to the most eccentric invitation of reinforcements from afar. + +The strangest of all these, the clearest proof in itself of flurry and +sense of need, is exhibited in his summoning--of all wonderful things +--of Comparative Philology to the rescue of Literature. To rebut the +criticism on his denial of a Personal God, he takes refuge in the +ethnological meaning of Deus, which, it seems, is "Shining." The poor +plain mind, already staggered by Mr Arnold's private revelations as to +what did _not_ happen 6000 years ago (or earlier) in the garden +of Eden, quite succumbs before this privilegium of omniscience. One +had thought that the results of philology and etymology of this sort +were extremely ingenious guesses, to be admitted in so far as they do +not conflict with facts, and till the next guess comes, but nothing +more. Lo! they are quoted as if they were on a par with "two and two +make four," or the law of Excluded Middle. We may not take Moses and +the prophets without proof, but Curtius and Professor Max Mueller may +speak, and we must but hear. And later, when Mr Arnold is trying to +cope with Descartes, he flies for refuge to "the roots _as_, _bhu_, +and _sta_." + +One is tempted rather to laugh at this; but on some sides it is very +serious. That no God of any religion can be more of a mere hypothesis +than _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_, never seems to have occurred to +Mr Arnold for one moment, nor that he was cutting the throat of his +own argument. We must not, however, fall into his own mistake and +quadruplicate to his duply. It may be sufficient to say that the long +defence of the Fourth Gospel which this book contains is one of the +oddest things in all literature. What, on Mr Arnold's principles, it +matters whether the Fourth Gospel was written in the first century, +the fourth, or the fourteenth, it is impossible for the poor plain +mind to see. He will not have it as revelation, and as anything else +its date is quite immaterial. + +The fact is that this severe censor of "learned pseudo--science mixed +with popular legend," as he terms theology, appears to have no idea of +the value of evidence whatever. The traditional history of the Bible +is not even to be considered; but a conjectural reconstruction of it +by a Dutch critic, without in the older cases one jot or tittle of +evidence outside the covers of the Bible itself, deserves every +respect, if not reverent acceptance _en bloc_. Miracles are +fictions, and the scenes in the garden of Eden and at the Sepulchre +never happened; but _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_ are very solemn +facts, and you can find out all about the Divinity, because the word +Deus means (not "has been guessed to mean," but _means_) +"Shining." That Shakespeare knew everything is much more certain than +that miracles do not happen; and he certainly knew Mr Arnold's case if +not Mr Arnold, when he introduced a certain main episode in _A +Midsummer Night's Dream_. To frown on Oberon and caress Bottom is +venial compared with the dismissal of the Bible as popular legend, and +the implicit belief in _as_, _bhu_, and _sta_. + +A wilfully hostile historian of Mr Arnold could not dwell too long on +these unfortunate books, for the handles they present are infinite; +but for my part I shall take leave to say little more about them. To +ask, in the common phrase, whether they did any harm would be to beg +the question in their own manner; to ask whether they produced any +effect would lead us too far. They certainly expressed a prevalent +tendency. Most fortunately Mr Arnold was allowed another ten years and +more wherein to escape from the wilderness which yielded these Dead +Sea fruits, and to till his proper garden once more. Yet we have not +quite done with the other fruits themselves. + +The actual finale, _Last Essays on Church_ and _Religion_, +was still less popular, was indeed the least popular of all his works, +seeing that, as has been said above, it has never been reprinted. It +is easy to understand this, for it is perhaps the only one of his +books which can be definitely called dull. The apologetic tone +noticeable in _God and the Bible_ continues, but the apology is +illustrated and maintained in an even less attractive manner. The +Preface is perhaps the least dead part of the book; but its line of +argument shares, and perhaps even exaggerates, the controversial +infelicity of this unfortunate series. Mr Arnold deals in it at some +length with the comments of two foreign critics, M. Challemel-Lacour +and Signor de Gubernatis, on _Literature and Dogma_, bringing out +(what surely could have been no news to any but very ill-educated +Englishmen) the fact of their surprise, not at his taking the Bible +with so little seriousness, but at his taking it with any seriousness +at all. And he seems never even to dream of the obvious retort: +"Certainly. These men are at any rate 'thorough'; they are not +dilettante dalliers between two opinions. They have got far beyond +your half-way house and have arrived at their destination. We have no +desire to arrive at the destination, and therefore, if you will excuse +us, we decline to visit the half-way house." It is less surprising +that he did not see the force of the objections of another critic, M. +Maurice Vernes, to the equally illogical and unhistorical plan of +arbitrarily selecting this utterance as that of "Jesus," and another, +given by the same authority, as not that of "Jesus." A man, who was +sensible of this paralogism, could never take Mr Arnold's views on +Church and Religion at all. + +But when we leave the Preface, even such faint liveliness as this +deserts us. The text contains four (or five, the second being divided +into two parts) essays, lectures, or papers, _A Psychological +Parallel_, _Bishop Butler and the Zeit-Geist_, The Church of England_, +and _A Last Word on the Burials Bill_. All had appeared in +_Macmillan's Magazine_ or the _Contemporary Review_ during +1876, while _Bishop Butler_ had been delivered as two lectures at +Edinburgh, and _The Church of England_ as an address to the +London Clergy at Sion College, during the spring of that year. + +Over all there is a curious constraint, the evidence of a mood not +very difficult to analyse, and in the analysis of which lies almost +all the satisfaction or edification to be got out of the book. The +writer, though by no means abandoning his own point of view, and even +flattering himself that some _modus vivendi_ is about to be +established between himself and the more moderate supporters of the +Church and of religion, betrays not merely the well-known +self-excusing and self-accusing tone, but odd flashes of discontent +and weariness--nay, even a fretfulness such as might have been that of +a Moses at Rephidim who could not bring water out of the rock. _A +Psychological Parallel_ is an attempt to buttress the apologia by +referring to Sir Matthew Hale's views on witchcraft, to Smith, the +Cambridge Platonist and Latitudinarian, and to the _Book of +Enoch_ (of which, by the way, it is a pity that Mr Arnold did not +live to see Mr Charles's excellent translation, since he desiderated a +good one). Of course the argument is sun-clear. If Hale was mistaken +about witchcraft, St Paul may have been mistaken about the +Resurrection. Expressions attributed to Christ occur in the _Book of +Enoch_, therefore they are not original and divine, &c., &c. And it +would be out of place to attempt any reply to this argument, the reply +being in each case as sun-clear as the argument itself. No believer in +supernatural religion that I ever met considered Sir Matthew Hale to +have been inspired; and no believer in the divinity of Christ can fail +to hold that His adoption of words (if He did adopt them) makes them +His. + +The gist of the Butler lectures is considerably less clear, and, if +only for that reason, it cannot be succinctly stated or answered. In +particular, it requires rather careful "collection" in order to +discover what our friend the Zeit-Geist has to do in this galley. I +should imagine that, though an Edinburgh audience is by no means +alarmed at philosophy, the majority, perhaps the enormous majority, of +Mr Arnold's hearers must have had a singularly dim idea as to his +exact drift. Indeed I cannot say that after reading the piece when it +first appeared, and again, twenty years later, for the purposes of +this book, I have any very distinct notion of that drift myself. If it +merely means that Butler, being an eighteenth-century person, was +afflicted with the eighteenth-century limitations by the Zeit-Geist, +eighty-six pages, and an imposing German compound at the head of every +other one of them, seem a good deal for telling us this. If it is a +sort of indirect attack upon--an oblique demurrer to--Butler's +constructive-aggressive orthodoxy in psychology and religion, one is +bound to say with all politeness, first, that it is a case of _impar +congressus_, and secondly, that the adventurous knight does not +give himself a fair chance. It will take more than eighty-six not very +large pages, and a German word at the top of the alternate ones, to do +that! In the opening sketch of Butler himself Mr Arnold could not but +be agreeable and even delightful. It gives us, indeed, most pleasant +promise of work in this same good kind soon to follow; but for the +rest we grope till we find, after some seventy-three of the +eighty-six, that what Mr Arnold wanted to say is that Butler did not +handle, and could not then have handled, miracles and the fulfilment +of prophecy satisfactorily. Butler, like St Paul, is undoubtedly +inconvenient for those who believe that miracles do not happen, and +that prophecies were either not made or not fulfilled. So he must be +got rid of. But whether he is got rid of,--whether Mr Arnold and the +Zeit-Geist have put him on the shelf as a venerable but antiquated +object,--that is another question. + +The two remaining essays show us Mr Arnold, in his character of at +least would-be practical statesman, dealing no longer with points of +doctrine but with the affairs of the Church as a political body. The +circumstances of the first--the address delivered at Sion College--had +a certain piquancy: whether they had also sweet reasonableness and an +entire accordance with the fitness of things is a question no doubt +capable of being debated. Me the situation strikes, I must confess, as +a little grotesque. The layman in the wide sense, the amateur, always +occupies a rather equivocal position when he addresses experts and the +profession; but his position is never so equivocal as when he doubles +the part of non-expert with that of candid friend. How Mr Arnold +succeeded in this exceedingly delicate attempt I do not propose to +examine at any length. He thought himself that he had "sufficiently +marked the way in which the new world was to be reached." Paths to new +worlds are always interesting, but in reading, or rather re-reading, +the sailing directions of this Columbus twenty years after date, one +may be a little disappointed. The sum appears to be a somewhat +Tootsian declaration that things of general are of no consequence. The +Church is better than Dissent; at least she would be so if she dropped +all her dogma, the greater part of her superstitions about the rights +of property and "my duty to my neighbour," and as much as possible of +the barriers which separate her from Dissent itself. A most moderate +eirenicon. Still less need be said of the Burials Bill paper, which is +a sort of appendix or corollary to the Sion speech, at the end of +which the subject had been referred to. The particular question, in +this phase of it, has long ceased to burn, and one need not disturb +the ashes. + +We must now turn to the incursions of this time into politics, which, +if not much happier, were more amusing. The chief monument of them is +the long unreprinted _Friendship's Garland_, which has always had +some fervent devotees, and is very characteristic. It so happened that +the period when _Essays in Criticism_, combined with his Oxford +Lectures, introduced Mr Arnold to the public, was the period of the +first years of the _Pall Mall Gazette_, when that brilliant +periodical, with the help of many of the original staff of the +_Saturday Review_, and others, was renewing for the sixties the +sensation of a new kind of journalism, which the _Saturday_ +itself had given to the fifties, while its form and daily appearance +gave it even greater opportunities. As early as the summer of 1866, +during the agitation into which the public mind had been thrown by the +astounding rapidity and thoroughness of the Prussian successes in the +Seven Weeks' War, Mr Arnold had begun a series of letters, couched in +the style of _persiflage_, which Kinglake had introduced, or +reintroduced, twenty years earlier in _Eothen_, and which the +_Saturday_ had taken up and widely developed. He also took not a +few hints from Carlyle in _Sartor_ and the _Latterday +Pamphlets_. And for some years at intervals, with the help of a +troupe of imaginary correspondents and _comparses_--Arminius von +Thundertentronckh, Adolescens Leo of the _Daily Telegraph_, the +Bottles family of wealthy Dissenters, with cravings for their deceased +wife's sisters, as well as a large number of more or less celebrated +personages of the day, introduced in their proper persons, and by +their proper names--he instructed England on its own weakness, folly, +and vulgarity, on the wisdom and strength of the Germans, on the +importance of _Geist_ and ideas, &c., &c. The author brought +himself in by name as a simple inhabitant of Grub Street, victimised, +bullied, or compassionately looked down upon by everybody; and by this +well-known device took licence for pretty familiar treatment of other +people. When the greater crash of 1870 came, and the intelligent +British mind was more puzzled, yet more _Prusso-mimic_, than +ever, he supplemented these letters, framed or bound them up, as it +were, with a moving account of the death of Arminius before Paris, and +launched the whole as a book. + +The letters had been much laughed over; but I do not think the book +was very widely bought--at any rate, its very high price during the +time in which it was out of print shows that no large number was +printed. Perhaps this cold welcome was not altogether so discreditable +to the British public as it would have been, had its sole cause been +the undoubted but unpalatable truths told by the writer. Either, as +some say, because of its thick-hidedness, or, as others, because of +its arrogant self-sufficiency, the British public has never resented +these much. But, in the first place, the thing was a falsetto. Mr +Arnold had plenty of wit but not much humour; and after a time one +feels that Bottles and Leo & Co. may be, as Dousterswivel says, "very +witty and comedy," but that we should not be altogether sorry if they +would _go_. Further, the direct personalities--the worst +instances concerned Lord Elcho, Mr Frederic Harrison, and the late Mr +Sala--struck, and strike, some people as being not precisely in good +taste. The constant allusions and references to minor and ephemeral +things and persons were not of course then unintelligible, but they +were even then teasing, In all these points, if _Friendship's +Garland_ be compared, I will once more not say with _A Tale of a +Tub_, but even with the _History of John Bull_, its weakness +will come out rather strongly. + +But this was not all. It was quite evident--and it was no shame and no +disadvantage to him--that the jester was endeavouring to urge a very +serious earnest behind, and by means of, his jest; that he was no mere +railer, or caviller, or even satirist, but a convinced reformer and +apostle. Yet when we try to get at his programme--at his gospel--there +is no vestige of anything tangible about either. Not very many +impartial persons could possibly accept Mr Arnold's favourite +doctrine, that the salvation of the people lies in state-provided +middle-class schools; and this was specially difficult in 1871, if +they remembered how some few years before Mr Arnold had been extolling +the state-provided middle-class schools of France. While, for the +rest, a man might be (as many men were) thoroughly dissatisfied with +the part England had played abroad in Italy, in the American Civil +War, in Denmark, in the war of 1866, in the war of 1870, and at home +from 1845 onwards, and yet not be able for the life of him to discover +any way of safety in _Friendship's Garland_. + +Nor, to take with the _Garland_ for convenience sake _Irish +Essays_, 1882, the political book which closed this period with the +political book that opened it, do we find things much better, even +long after "the Wilderness" had been mostly left behind. There is +indeed less falsetto and less flippancy; perhaps Mr Arnold had +silently learnt a lesson, perhaps the opportunities of regular essays +in "three-decker" reviews--of a lay sermon to working men, of a speech +at the greatest public school in the world--discouraged the +playfulness which had seemed permissible in addressing a skittish +young evening newspaper. But the unpracticalness--not in the +Philistine but in the strictly scientific sense--is more glaring than +ever, and there are other faults with it. Great part of _An +Unregarded Irish Grievance_ is occupied by a long-drawn-out +comparison of England's behaviour to Ireland with that of Mr Murdstone +and his friend and manager Quinion to David Copperfield. In the first +place, one thinks wickedly of the gibe in _Friendship's Garland_ +about "Mr Vernon Harcourt developing a system of unsectarian religion +from the life of Mr Pickwick." In the second, one asks on what +principles of literary art a comparison, not wholly improper as a mere +illustration in passing, can be worked to death and turned inside out +and upside down, for some twenty mortal pages. + +And so in other places. Yet the worst faults are not in form but in +substance. Minor contradictions do not matter, though in a copy of the +book I have read there is a damaging comparison by some annotator +between Mr Arnold's description of English Government at p. 4 and his +rosy picture of education under Government at p. 107. This might +happen to anybody, and is not fatal. What is fatal is that this censor +of the "unideaed" has evidently himself no "ideas," no first +principles, in politics at all. That, play what tricks you will, all +possible politics come round either to the Rule of the One, the Rule +of the Few, or the Rule of the Many, and that the consequences of +these rules, differentiated a little but not materially by historical +and racial characteristics, are as constant as anything commonly +called scientific,--this never seems to have occurred to Mr Arnold at +all. He did not fully appreciate Thackeray, and Thackeray died too +soon to know very much of him. But I have always thought that, for a +criticism of life possessing prophetic genius, the Chevalier Strong's +wedding congratulations to Arthur Pendennis are almost uncanny as +regards the Matthaean gospel. "Nothing," said the Chevalier, when he +had established himself as agent to the Duke of Garbanzos, "is so +important to the welfare of the household as _Good Sherry_." And +so we find that the Irish question, like all others, will be solved by +the substitution of State-governed for private middle-class schools, +by the saturation of England with "ideas," by all our old friends. + +The rest matches. Mr Arnold pooh-poohs the notion that Ireland, except +by force, will never be blended with England; it would be as sensible +to say this "of Scotland, Wales, or Cornwall." He was not, I think, +dead--he was certainly not dead long--when Wales actually did follow, +less formidably, of course, in the path of Ireland, beginning with the +Church, going on to the Land, and not distantly threatening the State. +As usual he goes to his books. He quotes Goethe--a great man of +letters, but perhaps the most pedantic of great men of letters except +Milton--to prove that "the English are pedants." He quotes Burke--the +unregenerate Irish Whig Burke, not the prophet whose tongue the French +Revolution had touched as it opened his eyes--to tell us what to do +with Ireland. But the main point in at least one of these essays, _The +Incompatibles_, is again connected with _David Copperfield_. I have +said that, from the merely literary point of view, the perpetual +ringing of the changes on Creakle, Murdstone, Quinion--Quinion, +Murdstone, Creakle--is inartistic and irritating. But from the +philosophical and political point of view it is far worse. No +Englishman with any sense of fact ever has taken, or could take, +Dickens's characters as normal types. They are always fantastic +exaggerations, full of genius occasionally, but as unlike actual +reality as those illustrations by Cruikshank which are their nearest +companions in the art of line. Of the three figures selected in +particular, Creakle is a caricature; Murdstone, though not exactly +that, is a repulsive exception; and Quinion is so mere a _comparse_ or +"super" that to base any generalisation on him is absurd. The dislike +of the British public to be "talked book to" may be healthy or +unhealthy; but if it takes no great heed of this kind of talking book, +small blame to it! The same hopeless, not to say the same wilful, +neglect of the practical appears throughout. Mr Arnold (to his credit +be it said) had no great hopes of the Land Bill of 1881. But his own +panaceas--a sort of Cadi-court for "bag-and-baggaging" bad landlords, +and the concurrent endowment of Catholicism--were, at least, no +better, and went, if it were possible, even more in the teeth of +history. + +It may be worth while (taking the usual chronological licence for the +sake of logical coherence) to say a few words on the other political +and quasi-political pieces reprinted with _Irish Essays_--the address +to Ipswich working men, _Ecce Convertimur ad Gentes_, the Eton speech +on _Eutrapelia_, and the ambitious _Future of Liberalism_[2] The first +is a curious but not very important appeal to the lower class to +educate the middle, with episodic praises of "equality," "academies," +and the like, as well as glances at a more extensive system of +"municipalisation," which, not to the satisfaction of everybody, has +come about since. The second contains some admirable remarks on +classical education, some still more admirable protests against +reading about the classics instead of reading the classics, and the +famous discourse on _Eutrapelia_, with its doctrine that "conduct is +three-fourths of life," its denunciation of "moral inadequacy," and +its really great indications of societies dying of the triumph of +Liberalism and Conservatism respectively. A discourse quite admirable +in intention, though if "heckling" had been in order on that occasion, +a sharp youth might have put Mr Arnold in some difficulty by asking +where the canons of "moral adequacy" are written. + +But _The Future of Liberalism_, which the Elizabethans would have +called a "cooling-card" after the Liberal triumph of 1880, exhibits +its author's political quiddity most clearly. Much that he says is +perfectly true; much of it, whether true or not, is, as Mr Weller +observes, "wery pretty." But the old mistake recurs of playing on a +phrase _ad nauseam_--in this case a phrase of Cobbett's (one of +the greatest of phrase-makers, but also one of the chief of the +apostles of unreason) about "the principles of Pratt, the principles +of Yorke." It was, of course, a capital _argumentum ad invidiam_, +and Mr Arnold frankly adopted it. He compared himself to Cobbett--a +compliment, no doubt; but one which, I fear, Cobbett, who hated +nothing so much as a university man, would not have appreciated. +Cobbett thought of nothing but the agricultural labourer's "full +belly"--at least this is how he himself put it; and it would have +enforced Mr Arnold's argument and antithesis had he known or dared to +use it. Mr Arnold thought of nothing but the middle classes' empty +mind. The two parties, as represented by the rather small Lord Camden +and the rather great Lord Hardwicke, cared for neither of these +things--so "the principles of Pratt, the principles of Yorke" comes in +as a refrain. To the average Briton quotation is no more argument +than, on higher authority, is blank verse. Still it might do for +ornament, if not for argument,--might help the lesson and point it at +least. So we turn to the lesson itself. This "Liberal of the future," +as Mr Arnold styles himself, begins, with orthodoxy if not with +philosophy, by warning the Tories off entirely. "They cannot really +profit the nation, or give it what it needs." Perhaps; but suppose we +ask for a little reason, just a ghost of a premiss or two for this +extensive conclusion? There is no voice, neither any that answers. And +then, the Tories dismissed with a wave to all but temporary oblivion +(they are to be allowed, it seems, to appear from time to time to +chasten Liberalism), our prophet turns to Liberalism itself. It ought +to promote "the humanisation of man in society," and it doesn't +promote this. Ah! what a blessed word is "humanisation," the very +equivalent, in syllables as in blessedness, of "Mesopotamia"! But when +for the considerable rest of the essay we try to find out what +humanisation _is_, why we find nothing but the old negative +impalpable gospel, that we must "_dis_materialise our upper +class, _dis_vulgarise our middle class, _dis_brutalise our +lower class." "Om-m-ject and sum-m-m-ject!" "om-m-ject and +sum-m-m-ject," in short, as that famous flash of Thomas Carlyle's +genius discovered and summarised Coleridge, and with Coleridge the +whole nineteenth century. A screed of jargon--a patter of +shibboleth--and that is all. Never a thought for this momentous +question--"May you not possibly--indeed most probably--in attempting +to remove what you choose to consider as the defects of these classes, +remove also what you acknowledge to be their virtues--the governing +faculty of the upper class, the conduct and moral health of the +middle, the force and vigour of the lower?" A momentous question +indeed, and one which, as some think, has _got_ something of an answer +since, and no comfortable one! + +I must apologise, and I do, for anything that may appear too polemical +in this chapter. But the circumstances of the case made it almost as +impossible, as it would have been uninteresting, to be merely +recitative and colourless; and Mr Arnold's own example gives ample +licence. In particular, any one who has had actual and close knowledge +of the actual progress of politics for many years may be pardoned for +speaking with some decision on the practice of sitting at ease in +Zion, and raying out curious observations on Barbarians and Eutrapelia +and the character of Mr Quinion. We may have too little of such things +in English politics--no doubt for a good many years before Mr Arnold's +day we _had_ too little of them. But too much, though a not +unpopular, is a very clumsy and very unscientific antidote to too +little; and in Mr Arnold's own handling of politics, I venture to +think that there was too much of them by a very great deal. + +It is very pleasant to turn from the literary results of this period, +from the spectacle of Pegasus + + "Stumbling in miry roads of alien art," + +and harnessing himself to all manner of unsuitable vehicles, to the +private history of the decade. This, though sadly chequered by Mr +Arnold's first domestic troubles, was on the whole prosperous, was +somewhat less laborious than the earlier years, and was lightened by +ever more of the social and public distractions, which no man entirely +dislikes, and which--to a certain extent and in a certain way--Mr +Arnold did not dislike at all. The changes of occupation and of +literary aim by the termination of the professorship coincided, as +such things have a habit of doing, with changes in place and +circumstance. The Chester Square house grew too small for the +children, and a move to Harrow was first meditated and then achieved. +A very pleasant letter to his mother, in November 1867, tells how he +was present at the farewell dinner to Dickens on his departure for +America, how they wanted him (vainly) to come to the high table and +speak, and how Lord Lytton finally brought him into his own speech. He +adds that some one has given him "a magnificent box of four hundred +Manilla cheroots" (he must surely have counted wrong, for they usually +make these things in two-hundred-and-fifties or five-hundreds), +welcome to hand on, though he did not smoke himself. In another he +expresses the evangelical desire to "do Mr Swinburne some good." + +But in January 1868 his baby-child Basil died; and the intense family +affection, which was one of his strongest characteristics, suffered of +course cruelly, as is recorded in a series of touching letters to his +sister and mother. He fell and hurt himself at Cannon Street, too, but +was comforted by his sister with a leading case about an illiterate +man who fell into a reservoir through not reading a notice. The Harrow +house became a reality at Lady Day, and at Midsummer he went to stay +at Panshanger, and "heard the word 'Philistine' used a hundred times +during dinner and 'Barbarian' nearly as often" (it must be remembered +that the "Culture and Anarchy" articles were coming out now). This +half-childish delight in such matters (like Mr Pendennis's "It's all +in the papers, and my name too!") is one of the most fascinating +things about him, and one of not a few, proving that, if there was +some affectation, there was no dissimulation in his nature. Too many +men, I fear, would have said nothing about them, or assumed a lofty +disdain. In September he mentions to Mr Grant Duff a plan (which one +only wishes he had carried out, letting all the "Dogma" series go +[Greek: kat ouron] as it deserved) for "a sketch of Greek poetry, +illustrated by extracts in harmonious prose." This would have been one +of the few great literary histories of the world, and so Apollo kept +it in his own lap. The winter repeated, far more heavily, the domestic +blow of the spring, and Tom, his eldest son, who had always been +delicate, died, aged sixteen only, at Harrow, where since the removal +he had been at school. There is something about this in the +_Letters_; but on the great principle of _curae leves_, less, +as we should expect, than about the baby's death. + +In February next year Mr Arnold's double repute, as a practical and +official "educationist" and as a man of letters, brought him the offer +of the care of Prince Thomas of Savoy, son of the Duke of Genoa, and +grandson of Victor Emmanuel, who was to attend Harrow School and board +with the Arnolds. The charge, though honourable and, I suppose, +profitable, might not have been entirely to the taste of everybody; +but it seemed to Mr Arnold a new link with the Continent, and he +welcomed it. The same year saw a visit to Knebworth, and a very +interesting and by no means unsound criticism on that important event +in the life of a poet, the issue of the first collected edition of his +poems.[3] This was in two volumes, and is now rather precious. "It +might be fairly urged that I have less poetic sentiment than Tennyson, +and less intellectual vigour and abundance than Browning; yet because +I have perhaps more of a fusion of the two than either of them, and +have more regularly applied that fusion to the main line of modern +development, I am likely enough to have my turn." One can only query +whether poetry has anything to do with "modern development," and +desiderate the addition to "sentiment" of "art." He seems to imply +that Mr Gladstone personally prevented his appointment to a +commissionership under the Endowed Schools Act. But the year ended +with a complimentary reference from Mr Disraeli at Latimers about +"Sweetness and Light." + +In February 1870 the famous Persian cat Atossa (now in the most +comfortable lap of all the gods or goddesses, with Hodge and Bona +Marietta and Hinse of Hinsfeldt) makes her first appearance; and in +June Mr Arnold received the Oxford D.C.L. He set it down to "a young +and original sort of man, Lord Salisbury, being Chancellor"; and Lord +Salisbury himself afterwards told him that "no doubt he ought to have +addressed him as 'vir dulcissime et lucidissime.'" But though he was +much pleased by his reception, he thought Lord Salisbury "dangerous," +as being unliterary, and only scientific and religious in his tastes. + +In December he had an amusing and (as it ended well) not +unsatisfactory experience of the ways of Income Tax Commissioners. +These gentlemen acted on even vaguer principles than those on which +they once assessed a poor dramatic amateur, who had by accident +received L6 "author's rights" for a week, at L300 per annum, on the +sound arithmetical argument that there are fifty (indeed, there are +fifty-two) weeks in a year, and that fifty times six is three hundred. +They put Mr Arnold's literary profits at L1000, and he had to +expostulate in person before they would let him down to L200, though +he pathetically explained that "he should have to write more articles +than he ever had done" to prevent his being a loser even at that. +About the catastrophe of the _Annee Terrible_, his craze for +"righteousness" makes him a very little Pecksniffian--one thinks of +the Tower of Siloam. But it is pleasant to hear that, early in 1871, +they are arranging for him "a perfect district, Westminster and a +small rural part near Harrow." So one hopes that the days of posting +from shire to shire and subsisting on buns were over. He is interested +about Deutsch (the comet of a season for his famous Talmud articles), +receives the Commandership of the Crown of Italy for his services to +Prince Thomas, and is proposed for the Middlesex magistracy, but (to +one's sorrow) declines. There is fishing at Chenies (_vide_ an +admirable essay of Mr Froude's) in the early summer, a visit to +Switzerland in the later, and in September "the pigs are grown very +large and handsome, and experts advise their conversion into bacon." +But Mrs Arnold "does not like the idea." Indeed this is the drawback +of pig-keeping, which is otherwise a most fascinating pastime; but you +can escape it, and unite pleasure with profit, by merely breeding the +pigs and selling the litters young. + +After this respite fate was again cruel. On February 16, 1872, Mr +Arnold's second son died at Harrow, and again the reception of the +blow and its effect are marked by lesser voicefulness in the grief. +Yet one phrase, "I cannot write his name without stopping to look at +it in stupefaction at his not being alive," is equal to volumes. The +letters of this year are few, but in September begins a correspondence +of some interest and duration with a French pastor, M. Fontanes. Nor +does 1873 give much except description of a tour to Italy, while in +May the Arnolds moved from Harrow, with its painful memories, to +Cobham, which was Mr Arnold's home for the rest of his life. In +September he "shoots worse than ever" (_vide_ _Friendship's +Garland_) in the famous preserves of Six Mile Bottom, and soon +after his mother dies. But it is not given to all men not to be +motherless till they themselves are fifty. And 1874 is again rather +barren, even such yield as it gives being rather didactic and +controversial, as for instance in a letter to his sister, who had +apparently remonstrated with some vigour against the tone of +_Literature and Dogma_. A pleasant letter to Miss Kingsley on her +father's death (1875) puts in good evidence against the charge of +grudging appreciation of contemporaries which has often been brought +against Mr Arnold, and which some unguarded expressions, rather +injudiciously published in other letters, may seem to confirm. + +Another in December contains an instance[4] of that dislike to +history, which long before its publication careful students of his +works had always noticed in him. The fact is, that to a man of ideas, +as Mr Arnold would have liked to be called--a man of theories or of +crotchets, as in extending order of unkindness people actually did +call him--history must be an annoying study. The things that ought to +happen do not happen, and the things that do happen have to be +awkwardly explained away or hazardously ignored His almost pettish +disgust for the historic estimate in literature itself may have either +caused or been caused by this more general dislike, and the dislike +itself explains the leniency with which he always regarded the sheer +guess-work of the Biblical critics. But it is possible to sympathise +with his disapproval of the divorce of History and Law, which used to +be united in the Oxford schools. Together they made a discipline, +inferior indeed, but only inferior, to that of the great school of +_Literae Humaniores_, the best intellectual training in the world. +When they are divided, it may be feared that law becomes a mere +technicality, if not a mere bread-study, and that history is at once +thin and vague. + +But Clio must have made interest with Nemesis; for, but a page or two +afterwards, this disregard of history leads Mr Arnold into a very odd +blunder. His French friend, M. Fontanes, had thought of writing about +Godwin, but Mr Arnold dissuades him. "Godwin," he says, "est +interessant, mais il n'est pas une source; des courants actuels qui +nous portent, aucun ne vient de lui." Godwin is the high priest of +Anarchism; he is our first Socialist philosopher, he advocated no +marriage, woman's rights, the abolition of religion. And _dans nos +courants actuels rien ne vient de lui!_ This was early in 1876, and +later in the same year we have from him the singular judgment that +George Sand, just dead, was "the greatest spirit in our European world +from the time that Goethe departed." The chronicle may be +appropriately closed for the time by mentioning that in the spring of +1877 Mr Arnold was approached with a view to his standing once more +for the Poetry Chair, and declined. The invitation, however, was a +sort of summons to him to go back to his proper work, and in effect, +though doubtless not in intention, he had already obeyed it. "A French +Critic on Milton," published in January 1877, is the first literary +article of any importance that his bibliography records for the whole +decade which we have surveyed in this chapter. + +_Note._--It is particularly unlucky that the _Prose +Passages_, which the author selected from his works and published +in 1879, did not appear later. It is almost sufficient to say that +less than one-fourth of their contents is devoted to literature, all +the rest to the "Dead Sea fruit." I have therefore said nothing about +the book in the text. It is, however, a useful though incomplete and +one-sided chrestomathy of Mr Arnold's style from the formal point of +view, illustrating both his minor devices of phrase and the ingenious +_ordonnance_ of his paragraphs in building up thought and +statement. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Mr Disraeli's words (in 1864) have been referred to above (p. +100). They were actually: "At that time [when they had met at Lord +Houghton's some seven or eight years earlier] ... you yourself were +little known. Now you are well known. You have made a reputation, but +you will go further yet. You have a great future before you, and you +deserve it." Crabb Robinson was a much older acquaintance, and is +credited, I believe, with the remark far earlier, that "he shouldn't +_dare_ to be intimate" with so clever a young man as Matthew +Arnold. Very shortly before his death in February 1867, he had met Mr +Arnold in the Athenaeum, and asked "which of all my books I should +myself name as the one that had got me my great reputation. I said I +had not a great reputation, upon which he answered: 'Then it is some +other Matthew Arnold who writes the books.'" The passage, which +contains an odd prophecy of the speaker's own death, and an +interesting indication that Mr Arnold rightly considered the +_Essays_ to be "the book that got him his reputation," will be +found in _Letters_, i. 351. + +[2] Of the remaining contents, the _Prefaces_ of 1853-5 are +invaluable, at least the first is, but this has been already noticed. +Of _The French Play in London_, I am, perhaps, no good judge, as I +take little interest in the acted drama. It is much occupied with the +inferiority of French poetry, and especially of the poetry of Hugo; +the inferiority of English civilisation, especially of the middle +class. There are good things in it, but they are better said +elsewhere. The rest needs no notice. + +[3] A note on the contents of this and the subsequent collected +editions may not be unwelcome; for, as was always the case with him, +he varied them not a little. This first collection was advertised as +comprehending "the First and Second Series of the Author's Poems and +the New Poems," but as a matter of fact half-a-dozen pieces--including +things as interesting as _A Dream_ and _Stagirius_--are omitted, +though the fine _In Utrumque Paratus_ reappears for the first time as +a consolation. As reprinted in 1877, this collection dropped _The +Church of Brou_ except the third part, and recovered not only +_Stagirius_ and others but _The New Sirens_, besides giving, for the +first time in book-form, _Haworth Churchyard_, printed twenty-two +years before in _Fraser_. A further reprint in 1881 restored the whole +_Church of Brou_ and _A Dream_, and gave two or three small additions, +especially _Geist's Grave_. The _three-volume_ edition of 1885 also +republished _Merope_ for the first time, and added _Westminster Abbey_ +and _Poor Matthias_. The _one_-volume edition of 1890 reproduced all +this, adding _Horatian Echo_ and _Kaiser Dead_; it is complete save +for the two prize poems, and six or seven smaller pieces. + +[4] "I do not like the course for the History School at all; nothing +but read, read, read, endless histories in English, many of them by +quite second-rate men; nothing to form the mind as reading really +great authors forms it, or even to exercise it as learning a new +language, or mathematics, or one of the natural sciences exercises +it." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +THE LAST DECADE. + +It would be unhistorical to assert, and unphilosophical to assume, +that in the change or reversion noted at the end of the last chapter, +Mr Arnold had any consciousness of relinquishment, still more to hint +any definite sense of failure on his part. He would probably have said +(if any one had been impertinent enough to ask, and he had +condescended to reply) that he had said his say, had shot his bolt, +and might leave them to produce their effect. But that there was, if +no repentance, a certain disgust, I cannot but believe. He must have +seen--he almost acknowledges that he saw--that the work which he at +least thought was conservative was being utilised by others in a +purely destructive spirit; he must have found himself in very +unwelcome alliances; and (which is worst of all to a delicate and +sensitive spirit) he must constantly have found fools dotting his +_i_'s and emphasising his innuendoes in their own clumsy and +Philistine fashion. At any rate, it is purely historical to say that +he did henceforward almost entirely change his main line of operation +as to religious matters, and that though, as has been shown, he +persisted, not too fortunately, in politics, his method of discussion +in that likewise was altered. As we heard no more of the three Lord +Shaftesburys, so Bottles and his unwelcome society were permitted to +remain unchronicled. In the latter department seriousness came upon Mr +Arnold; in the former, if not a total, yet a general and certainly +most welcome silence. + +Most welcome: for he was voiceful enough on other and his proper +subjects. "Falkland," which followed "A French Critic on Milton," in +March in the _Fortnightly_, and "George Sand," which followed it, +as has been said, in June in the _Nineteenth Century_, somewhat +deserved the title (_Mixed Essays_) of the volume in which they +were two years later reprinted. But the last essay of the year 1877, +that on Mr Stopford Brooke's _Primer_, was, like the "French +Critic," and even more than that, pure literature. "A French Critic on +Goethe," which appeared in the _Quarterly Review_ for January +1878, followed next. The other pieces of this year, which also, with +one exception, appeared in _Mixed Essays_, were, with that +exception, evidences of a slight but venial relapse, or let us say of +convalescence not yet quite turned into health. "Equality" +(_Fortnightly_, March 1878), "Irish Catholicism and British +Liberalism" (_Fortnightly_, July 1878), and "Porro Unum est +Necessarium" (_Fortnightly_, November 1878), were, if not of "the +utmost last provincial band," yet not of the pure Quirites, the +genuine citizens of the sacred city of Mr Arnold's thought: and he +seceded from this latter in not a few of those estimable but +unimportant Irish essays which have been noticed in the last chapter. + +But the literary contents of _Mixed Essays_ are very interesting, +and the Johnson paper (really a preface to the six selected lives, +which he edited for Messrs Macmillan in 1878) is a most excellent +piece of work. His selection of the Lives is perhaps not quite +unerring. For he ought surely to have given the "Cowley," with its +(from his own point of view) invaluable _point de repere_ in the +estimate of the "metaphysicals." And he might have missed the "Swift," +which, though extremely interesting as a personal study from its +mixture of prejudice and constraint, its willingness to wound, and +yet--not its fear but--its honest compunction at striking, is, for the +purpose of the volume, misplaced. But he had a right to give what he +chose: and his preface has points of the very highest value. The +opening passage about the _point de repere_ itself, the fixed +halting-place to which we can always resort for fresh starts, fresh +calculations, is one of the great critical _loci_ of the world, +and especially involves the main contribution of the nineteenth +century to criticism if not to literature altogether. We may exalt, +without very much doubt or dread, the positive achievements of the +century of Tennyson and Browning, of Carlyle and Thackeray, of Heine +and Hugo. But we have seen such strange revolutions in this respect +that it may not do to be too confident. The glory of which no man can +deprive our poor dying _siecle_ is that not one, of all the +others since history began, has taken such pains to understand those +before it, has, in other words, so discovered and so utilised the +value of _points de repere_. It may be that this value is, except +in the rarest cases, all that a critic can ever pretend to--that he +may be happy if, as few do, he reaches this. But in the formulation of +the idea (for he did much more than merely borrow it from the French) +Mr Arnold showed his genius, his faculty of putting + + "What oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed." + +And when a man does this in prose or in verse, in criticism or in +creation, he has his reward--a reward that no man can take away, even +if any one were disposed to try. + +As a whole, _Mixed Essays_ itself, which followed _Last Essays +on Church and Religion_ at an interval of two years, is an almost +immeasurably livelier book than its predecessor, and to some judgments +at least seems to excel that predecessor in solid value as much as in +the graces. "Mixed" is perhaps not a strictly accurate title, for the +volume consists of two halves, the contents of each of which are +homogeneous enough, but which have next to nothing to do with each +other. But even in the non-literary essays we are out of "The +Wilderness" in its worst sense. Most of the essays had, as has just +been shown, appeared in different periodicals, while "Equality" was +also delivered as a lecture during the years 1877 and 1878. The +exception was the paper called "Democracy," which he reprinted from +his first work on Foreign Schools in 1861, where it had appeared as an +Introduction. The juxtaposition is by no means uninteresting or +uninstructive, though perhaps it is not entirely favourable to the +idea of Mr Arnold's development as a _zoon politicon_. It has +been said before that his earliest political writing is a good deal +less fantastic and more sane than that of his middle period, and +though "the last of life for which the first was made" was now +restoring to him much of his power in this direction, yet he was +always much joined to idols in matters political. In grasp "Democracy" +does not quite come up to its rather ambitious title; and a moment's +thought will show why. In 1861 Democracy was a very academic subject. +All projects for further Parliamentary Reform had failed utterly in +England; and nobody dreamt of what the next five or six years would +bring. In France there was what looked like a crushing military +despotism: in other Continental countries the repression which had +followed the outbreaks of 1848-49 was only just being relaxed, or not +relaxed at all. American democracy had not had its second baptism of +Civil War. The favourite fancies about the respective _ethos_ of +aristocracy, of the middle-class, and of the lower do indeed appear, +but for the most part Mr Arnold confines himself to the simple +question of State interference, for which in his own subject of +education he was so anxious, and which he would gladly have seen +extended. It has been more than once remarked already that he may +justly be regarded as a politician of more seriousness than he has +here been represented as possessing, if espousing the cause of the +things which actually happen is taken as the criterion. For State +interference has grown and is growing every day. But then it may be +held--and as a matter of principle he would not himself have contested +it--that a man's politics should be directed, not by what he thinks +will happen, but by what he thinks ought to happen. And some of us, +while not in love by any means with the middle-class Liberal ideas of +1830-1860, think that the saving grace of that day that is dead was +precisely its objection to State interference. + +"Equality," which follows, and which starts what might be called at +the time of the book its contemporary interest, is much more +far-reaching and of greater curiosity; indeed, it may perhaps be held +to be the most curious, in a certain sense, of all its author's +writings, and to give, in a not fully satisfactory but suggestive +fashion, a key to his complex character which is supplied by no other +of his essays. That there was (in no silly or derogatory sense of an +often absurdly used word) a slightly un-English side to that +character, few acute judges would deny. But its results, in the +greater part of the works, are so diffused, and, as it were, +subterranean, that they are difficult to extract and concentrate. Here +we seem to get the spirit much nearer proof. For the Equality which Mr +Arnold here champions is not English but French equality; not +political and judicial equality before the law, but social equality +enforced by the law. He himself admits, and perhaps even a little +exaggerates, his attitude of _Athanasius contra mundum_ in this +respect, amassing with relish expressions, in the sense opposite to +his own, from such representative and yet essentially diverse +authorities as Lord Beaconsfield, Mr Gladstone, Sir Erskine May, Mr +Froude, and Mr Lowe. Against them he arrays Menander and George +Sand--a counter-championship not itself suggestive of Equality. This +may be "only his fun"--a famous utterance which it is never more +necessary to keep in mind than when speaking or writing of Mr Arnold, +for his fun, such as it was, was pervading, and occasionally rather +cryptic. But the bulk of the paper is perfectly serious. Social +equality, and its compulsory establishment by a law against free +bequest or by public opinion, these are his themes. He asserts that +the Continent is in favour of them; that the English colonies, +_ci-devant_ and actual, are in favour of them; that the Greeks were in +favour of them; that the Bible is in favour of them. He cites Mr +Hamerton as to the virtues of the French peasant. He renews his old +tilt at the manners of the English lower-middle class, at Messrs Moody +and Sankey, at the great "Jingo" song of twenty years ago (as to +which, by the way, a modern Fletcher of Saltoun might have something +to say to-day), at the Puritans, at Mr Goldwin Smith, at many things +and many persons. + +I feel that history has given me at the moment rather an unfair +advantage over Mr Arnold here. One could always pick plenty of holes +in "Equality," could suggest that the Greeks did not make such a very +good thing of it with their equality (which included slavery); that +the Biblical point is far from past argument; that M. Zola, for +instance, supplies an interesting commentary on Mr Hamerton's +rose-coloured pictures of the French peasantry; that whatever Mr +Arnold's own lot may have been, others who have lived in small French +towns with the _commis voyageur_ have not found his manners so +greatly superior to those of the English bagman. But just at this +moment, and, in fact, in an increasing degree ever since Mr Arnold +wrote, the glorification of France has become difficult or impossible. +Sir Erskine May, it seems, had warned him in vain about the political +effect of French Equality even at that time: but one need not confine +oneself to politics. At the end of the nineteenth century France has +enjoyed the blessings of social equality, enforced by compulsory +division of estates, for a hundred years and more. Perhaps equality +has nothing to do with the decadence of her literature, with that +state of morals which Mr Arnold himself deplored with almost Puritan +emphasis, with the state of religion which he holds up as an awful +example, fit to warn England to flee to the refuge of his own +undogmatic _Nephelococcygia_, with the ineffable scandals of +Panama and the Dreyfus case, with the mixture of blind illucidity and +febrile passion which characterises the French press. Only, what is +left? Where are the improvements due to this great influence? They +are, according to Mr Arnold, in the amiable dignity of the French +peasant and the polished refinement of the French middle-class. +Frankly, one may prefer Hodge and Bottles. + +"Irish Catholicism and British Liberalism" has less actuality, and, +moreover, it belongs to a group of which enough has been said in +reference to the _Irish Essays_. But "Porro Unum est Necessarium" +possesses not merely an accidental but a real claim to fresh +attention, not merely at the moment when there is at last some chance +of the dream of Mr Arnold's life, the interference of the State in +English secondary education, being realised, but because it is one of +the expressions of that dream which was in his life so important. It +consists partly of statistics and partly of a moan over the fact that, +in the heat and heyday of Mr Gladstone's _levee en masse_ against +the Tory Government of 1874-80, the Liberal programme contained +nothing about this darling object. And the superiority of France is +trotted out again; but it would be cruel to insist any more. Yet at +last Mr Arnold becomes practical, and contends for pretty much the +substance of present Secondary Education Reform schemes--limited +inspection, qualification of masters, leaving certificates, &c. "It do +not over-stimulate," to quote an author to whom Mr Arnold was shortly +to devote much attention; but we leave the political or semi-political +batch in considerably greater charity with the author than his prose +volumes for years past had rendered possible. + +No reserves, no allowances of the least importance are necessary in +dealing with the rest of the volume. I do not think it fanciful to +discern a sort of involuntary or rather unconscious "Ouf!" of relief +in the first, the "Guide to English Literature," on the subject, as +has been said, of Mr Stopford Brooke's always excellent and then novel +_Primer_. A tribute to duty is, indeed, paid at starting: we are told +sternly that we must not laugh (as it is to be feared too many of us +did and do) at the famous boast of the French Minister, as to all the +boys in France learning the same lesson at the same hour. For this was +the result of State interference: and all the works of State +interference are blessing and blessed. But, this due rite paid, Mr +Arnold gives himself up to enjoyment, laudation, and a few +good-natured and, for the most part, extremely judicious proposals for +making the good better still. Even if this last characteristic were +not present, it would be unjust to call the article a puff. Besides, +are puffs so wholly bad? A man may be not very fond of sweets, and yet +think a good puff now and then, a puff with its three corners just hot +from the oven, full of jam, light, artistically frothed, to be a very +pleasing thing. And, as I have said, Mr Arnold's review is much more +than a puff. Once, indeed, there is even a hypercriticism, due to that +slight want of familiarity with literary history proper which has been +noticed more than once. Mr Arnold finds fault with Mr Brooke for +adopting, as one of his chapter divisions, "from the Restoration to +George III." He objects to this that "George III. has nothing to do +with literature," and suggests "to the Death of Pope and Swift." This +is a curious mistake, of a kind which lesser critics have often +repeated. Perhaps George III. _had_ nothing to do with literature; but +his accession immediately preceded, and may even, as the beginning of +a pure English _regime_, have done something to produce, numerous +appearances of the Romantic revival--Percy's _Reliques_, Hurd's +_Essays_, Macpherson's _Ossian_, _The Castle of Otranto_, and others. +The deaths of Pope and Swift have no such synchronism. They mark, +indeed, the disappearance of the strongest men of the old school, but +not the appearance of even the weakest and most infantine of the new. +Still this, though interesting in itself, is a trifle, and the whole +paper, short as it is, is a sort of _Nunc Dimittis_ in a new sense, a +hymn of praise for dismissal, not from but to work--to the singer's +proper function, from which he has been long divorced. + +"Falkland," which follows, is less purely literary, but yet closely +connected with literature. One thinks with some ruth of its original +text, which was a discourse on Falkland by that modern Lucius Gary, +the late Lord Carnarvon--the most curious and pathetic instance of a +man of the nineteenth century speaking of one who was almost his exact +prototype, in virtues and graces as in weaknesses and disabilities of +temperament, during the seventeenth. It would, of course, have been +indecent for Mr Arnold to bring this parallel out, writing as he did +in his own name and at the moment, and I do not find any reference to +it in the _Letters_; but I can remember how strongly it was felt +at the time. His own interest in Falkland as the martyr of Sweetness +and Light, of lucidity of mind and largeness of temper, was most +natural, and its sources most obvious. It would be cruel, and is quite +unnecessary, to insist on the too certain fact that, in this instance +at any rate, these excellent qualities were accompanied by a distinct +weakness of will, by a mania for sitting between two stools, and by +that--it may be lovable, it may be even estimable--incapacity to +think, to speak, to behave like a man of this world, which besets the +conscientious idealist who is not a fanatic. On the contrary, let us +not grudge Mr Arnold a hero so congenial to himself, and so little +repulsive to any of us. He could not have had a better subject; nor +can Falkland ever hope for a _vates_ better consecrated, by +taste, temper, and ability, to sing his praises. + +Then we are back again in pure literature, with the two notable +_Quarterly_ articles, already glanced at, on M. Scherer as "A +French Critic on Milton" and "A French Critic on Goethe." There was a +very strong sympathy, creditable to both, between the two. M. Scherer +went further than Mr Arnold in the negative character of his views on +religion; but they agreed as to dogma. His literary criticism was +somewhat harder and drier than Mr Arnold's; but the two agreed in +acuteness, lucidity, and a wide, if not quite a thoroughgoing, use of +the comparative method. Both were absolutely at one in their +uncompromising exaltation of "conduct." So that Mr Arnold was writing +quite _con amore_ when he took up his pen to recommend M. Scherer +to the British public, which mostly knew him not at that time. + +But he did not begin directly with his main subject. He had always, as +we have seen, had a particular grudge at Macaulay, who indeed +represented in many ways the tendencies which Mr Arnold was born to +oppose. Now just at this time certain younger critics, while by no +means championing Macaulay generally, had raised pretty loud and +repeated protests against Mr Arnold's exaggerated depreciation of the +_Lays_ as "pinchbeck"; and I am rather disposed to think that he +took this opportunity for a sort of sally in flank. He fastens on one +of Macaulay's weakest points, a point the weakness of which was +admitted by Macaulay himself--the "gaudily and ungracefully +ornamented" (as its author calls it) _Essay on Milton_. And he +points out, with truth enough, that its "gaudy and ungraceful +ornament" is by no means its only fault--that it is bad as criticism, +that it shows no clear grasp of Milton's real merits, that it ignores +his faults, that it attributes to him qualities which were the very +reverse of his real qualities. He next deals slighter but still +telling blows at Addison, defends Johnson, in passing, as only +negatively deficient in the necessary qualifications, not positively +conventional like Addison, or rhetorical like Macaulay, and then with +a turn, itself excellently rhetorical in the good sense, passes to M. +Scherer's own dealings with the subject. Thenceforward he rather +effaces himself, and chiefly abstracts and summarises the "French +Critic's" deliverances, laying special stress on the encomiums given +to Milton's style. The piece is one of his most artfully constructed; +and I do not anywhere know a better example of ingenious and +attractive introduction of a friend, as we may call it, to a new +society. + +The method is not very different in "A French Critic on Goethe," +though Carlyle, the English "awful example" selected for contrast, is +less maltreated than Macaulay, and shares the disadvantageous part +with Lewes, and with divers German critics. On the whole, this essay, +good as it is, seems to me less effective than the other; perhaps +because Mr Arnold is in less accord with his author, and even seems to +be in two minds about that author's subject--about Goethe himself. +Earlier, as we have partly seen, he had, both in prose and in verse, +spoken with praise--for him altogether extraordinary, if not +positively extravagant--of Goethe; he now seems a little doubtful, and +asks rather wistfully for "the just judgment of forty years," the calm +revised estimate of the Age of Wisdom. But M. Scherer's estimate is in +parts lower than he can bring himself to admit; and this turns the +final passages of the essay into a rather unsatisfactory chain of "I +agree with this," "I do not agree with that." But the paper retains +the great merit which has been assigned to its predecessor as a piece +of ushering; and that, we must remember, was what it was designed to +be. + +In "George Sand," which completes the volume, we have Mr Arnold no +longer as harbinger of another, but in the character, in which after +all he is most welcome, of speaker on his own account. His estimate of +this prolific _amuseuse_ will probably in the long-run seem +excessive to the majority of catholic and comparative critics; nor is +it at all difficult to account for the excess. Mr Arnold belonged +exactly to the generation to which in England, even more than in +France, George Sand came as a soothing and sympathetic exponent of +personal sorrows. Even the works of her "storm-and-stress" period were +not too far behind them; and her later calmer productions seem to have +had, at least for some natures among the "discouraged generation of +1850" (to which, as we have said, Mr Arnold himself by his first +publications belonged), something of that healing power which he has +assigned, in larger measure and with greater truth, to Wordsworth. A +man is never to be blamed for a certain generous overvaluation of +those who have thus succoured him; it would be as just to blame him +for thinking his mother more beautiful, his father wiser than they +actually were. And Mr Arnold's obituary here has a great deal of +charm. The personal and biographical part is done with admirable +taste, not a grain too much or too little of that _moi_ so +_haissable_ in excess, so piquant as a mere seasoning, being +introduced: and the panegyric is skilful in the extreme. To be sure, +Mr Hamerton reappears, and Mr Arnold joins in the chorus of delight +because the French peasant no longer takes off his hat. Alas! there is +no need to go to the country of _La Terre_ to discover this sign +of moral elevation. But the delusion itself is only another proof of +Mr Arnold's constancy to his early ideas. And looking back on the +whole volume, one is almost tempted to say that, barring the first +_Essays in Criticism_ itself, he had written no better book. + +Before very long the skill in selecting and editing which had been +first applied to Johnson's _Lives_ found extended opportunities. +Mr Arnold had much earlier, in the _Essays in Criticism_, +expressed a wish that the practice of introducing books by a critical +and biographical Essay, which had long been naturalised in France, and +had in former times not been unknown in England, should be revived +among us. His words had been heard even before he himself took up the +practice, and for about the usual time--your thirty years is as a +matter of fact your generation--it flourished and prospered, not let +us hope to the great detriment of readers, and certainly to the modest +advantage of the public man when vexed by want of pence. Nor can it +exactly be said to have ceased--though for some years grumbles have +been uttered. "Why," says one haughty critic,--"why mar a beautiful +edition of So-and-so's works by incorporating with them this or that +man's estimate of their value?" "The publishers," says an inspired +_communique_, "are beginning to recognise that the public has no +need of such things in the case of works of established repute, of +which there is nothing new to be said." No doubt both these are +genuine utterances: no doubt the haughty critic would have steadily +refused to "mar" the book by _his_ estimate if he had been asked +to do so; no doubt the particular firm of publishers were not in the +least influenced by a desire to save the ten, twenty, fifty, or a +hundred guineas which this or that man might have demanded for saying +nothing new. + +But Mr Arnold did not agree with these severe folk. He thought--and +not a few good wits have thought with him--not only that these +Introductions are an opportunity for men like himself, with original +gifts of thought and style, to display these gifts, but that the +mighty public, for all its knowledge of everything that has been +thought and said about everybody, might find something new to it even +in the observations of lesser folk. As a matter of fact, of course, +and neither to talk nor to quote nonsense, the utility of such +Introductions, even if moderately well done, is unmistakable. Not one +in a thousand of the probable readers of any book has all the +information which even a fairly competent introducer will put before +him; not one in a hundred knows the previous estimates of the author; +not many possess that acquaintance with his whole work which it is +part of the business of the introducer to acquire, and adjust for the +better understanding of the particular book. Of course, if an +Introduction is imperfectly furnished with fact and thought and +reading--if it is desultory, in bad taste, and so forth--it had better +not be there. But this is only saying that a bad Introduction is a bad +thing, which does not get us much beyond the intellectual edification +of the niece of Gorboduc. Unless the introducer is a boggler, the +Introduction will probably do good to those who want it and can be +neglected by those who don't; while in the rarer and better cases it +will itself acquire, or even possess from the first, that very value +as a _point de repere_ which Mr Arnold had discussed. It will be +good relatively and good in itself,--a contribution at once to the +literature of knowledge and to the literature of power. + +Of Mr Arnold's efforts in editing I may be permitted to neglect his +"intromittings" with Isaiah, for reasons already sufficiently given. +In more hopeful matter there are three examples which are not soon +likely to lose interest or value: the selection of his own poems, that +from Wordsworth, and that from Byron. To the first the English habits +of his own day did not permit him to prefix any extensive +Introduction, and though the principle is sound, one is almost sorry +for the application. Neither Wordsworth nor Coleridge would have had +any scruples in doing this, and while Mr Arnold had the sense of the +ludicrous which Wordsworth lacked, he was less subject to disastrous +divagations than Coleridge. Still, the 1853 Preface enables those who +have some slight power of expansion to fill in what is wanted from the +point of view of purpose; and the selection itself is quite excellent. +Almost the only things that, as a basis for a good knowledge of the +poet, one finds it necessary to subjoin, are the beautiful +_Resignation_, which Mr Humphry Ward had the good taste to +include in the appendix to his _English Poets_; and the curious, +characteristic, and not much short of admirable _Dream_, which in +the earlier issues formed part of _Switzerland_, and should never +have been excluded from it. It is probably the best selection by a +poet from his own works that has ever been issued, and this is saying +not a little. Nor does one like Mr Arnold less for his saying, +reported either by Mr Ward or Lord Coleridge, that he had rather have +given _all_ the poems. + +As for the "Wordsworth" and the "Byron," they gain enormously by "this +man's estimate of them," and do not lose by "this man's" selection. I +have had occasion, not once or twice only, and for purposes not +invariably the same, to go through the Wordsworth book carefully, side +by side with the complete poems, in order to see whether anything has +necessarily to be added. I really do not know what has, unless it be a +few of the oases from the deserts of the _Excursion_, the +_Prelude_, and the then not published _Recluse_. Wordsworth's real +titles are put in once for all; the things by which he must stand or +fall are there. The professor, the very thorough-going student, the +literary historian, must go farther; the idle person with a love of +literature will; but nobody need. + +And the Introduction (for after all we can all make our selections for +ourselves, with a very little trouble) is still more precious. I know +few critical essays which give me more pleasure in reading and +re-reading than this. Not that I agree with it by any means as a +whole; but he is in the mere "Pettys" of criticism (it is true not +many seem to get beyond) who judges a critical essay by his own +agreement with it. Mr Arnold puts Wordsworth, as a poet and an English +poet, far higher than I can put him. He is not so great a poet to my +thinking as Spenser or Shelley; if it were possible in these +competitions to allow weight for age, he is not as great a poet as +Keats; I am sure he is not a greater poet than Tennyson; I cannot give +him rank above Heine or Hugo, though the first may be sometimes +naughty and the second frequently silly or rhetorical; and when Mr +Arnold begins to reckon Moliere in, I confess I am lost. When and +where did Moliere write poetry? But these things do not matter; they +are the things on which reviewers exercise their "will it be +believed?" and on which critics agree to differ. We may include with +them the disparaging passage on Gautier (of whom I suspect Mr Arnold +knew little, and whom he was not quite fitted to judge had he known +more) and the exaltation of "life" and "conduct" and all the rest of +it. These are the colours of the regiment, the blazonry of the knight; +we take them with it and him, and having once said our say against +them, pass them as admitted. + +But what is really precious is first the excellent criticism scattered +broadcast all over the essay, and secondly, the onslaught on the +Wordsworthians. They might perhaps retort with a _tu quoque_. +When Mr Arnold attacks these poor folk for saying that Wordsworth's +poetry is precious because its philosophy is sound, we remember a +certain Preface with its "all depends on the subject," and chuckle a +little, a very little. But Mr Arnold is right here. No philosophy, no +subject, will make poetry without poetical treatment, and the +consequence is that _The Excursion_ and _The Prelude_ are, +as wholes, not good poems at all. They contain, indeed, passages of +magnificent poetry. But how one longs, how, as one sees from this +essay, Mr Arnold longed, for some mercury-process which would simply +amalgamate the gold out of them and allow us to throw the dross down +any nearest cataract, or let it be blown away by any casual hurricane! + +The Byron paper contains more disputable statements--indeed the +passage about Shelley, if it were quite serious, which may be doubted, +would almost disqualify Mr Arnold as a critic of poetry. But it is +hardly less interesting, and scarcely at all less valuable. In the +first place, it is a very great thing that a man should be able to +admire both Byron and Wordsworth. Of a mere Byronite, indeed, Mr +Arnold has even less than he has of a Wordsworthian pure and simple. +He makes the most damaging admissions; he has to fall back on Goethe +for comfort and confirmation; he is greatly disturbed by M. Scherer's +rough treatment of his subject. In no essay, I think, does he quote so +much from others, does he seem to feel it such a relief to find a +backer, a somebody to fight with on a side point, a somebody (for +instance Professor Nichol) to correct and gloss and digress upon while +complimenting him. Mr Arnold is obviously not at ease in this +Zion--which indeed is a Zion of an odd kind. Yet this very uneasiness +gives to the _Essay_ a glancing variety, a sort of animation and +excitement, which are not common things in critical prelections. Nor, +though one may think that Mr Arnold's general estimate of Byron is not +even half as sound as his general estimate of Wordsworth, does the +former appear to be in even the slightest degree insincere. Much as +there must have been in Byron's loose art, his voluble +inadequacy--nay, even in his choice of subject--that was repellent to +Mr Arnold: much more as there must have been in his unchastened +conduct, his flashy affectations, his lack of dignity, morality, +_tenue_ of every kind,--yet there were real links between them. Mr +Arnold saw in Byron an ally, if not an altogether admirable or +trustworthy ally, against the Philistine. He saw in him a link with +general European literature, a check and antidote to the merely +insular. Byron's undoubtedly "sincere and strong" dislike of the +extreme Romantic view of literature was not distasteful to Mr Arnold. +Indeed, in his own earlier poems there are not wanting Byronic touches +and echoes, not so easy to separate and put the finger on, as to see +and hear "confusedly." Lastly, he had, by that sort of reaction which +often exhibits itself in men of the study, an obvious admiration for +Force--the admiration which makes him in his letters praise France up +to 1870 and Germany after that date--and he thought he saw Force in +Byron. So that the _Essay_ is written with a stimulating mingle-mangle +of attraction and reluctance, of advocacy and admission. It is very +far indeed from being one of his best critically. You may, on his own +principles, "catch him out" in it a score of times. But it is a good +piece of special pleading, an excellent piece of writing, and one of +the very best and most consummate literary _causeries_ in +English. + +In strict chronological order, a third example of these most +interesting and stimulating Prefaces should have been mentioned +between the "Wordsworth" and the "Byron"--the latter of which, indeed, +contains a reference to it. This is the famous Introduction to Mr T.H. +Ward's _English Poets_, which, in that work and in the second +series of _Essays in Criticism_, where it subsequently appeared, +has perhaps had more readers than any other of its author's critical +papers. It contains, moreover, that still more famous definition of +poetry as "a criticism of life" which has been so often attacked and +has sometimes been defended. I own to having been, both at the time +and since, one of its most decided and irreconcilable assailants. Nor +do I think that Mr Arnold would have much relished the apology made, I +think, by Mr Leslie Stephen since his death, that its critics "mistake +an epigram for a philosophical definition." In the first place, the +epigrammatic quality is not clearly apparent; and in the second place, +an epigram would in the particular place have been anything but +appropriate, while a philosophical definition is exactly what was +wanted. + +Mr Arnold himself never attempted any such defence. He pleaded, with +literal justice, that the phrase "a criticism of life" was only part +of his formula, which adds, "under the conditions fixed for such a +criticism by the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty." But this +does not make the matter much better, while it shows beyond +controversy that it _was_ a philosophical definition that he was +attempting. It merely takes us round in a circle, telling us that +poetry is poetical, that the archdeacon performs archidiaconal +functions. And while it is not more illuminative than that famous and +useful jest, it has the drawback of being positively delusive, which +the jest is not. Unless we are to assign some quite new meaning to +"criticism"--and the assignment of new meanings to the terms of an +explanation is the worst of all explanatory improprieties--poetry is +_not_ a criticism of life. It may be a passionate interpretation of +life--that has seemed to some not a bad attempt at the +unachievable,--a criticism it cannot be. Prose fiction may be and +should be such; drama may be and should be such; but not poetry. And +it is especially unfortunate that such poetry as answers best to the +term is exactly that poetry which Mr Arnold liked least. Dryden and +Pope have much good and true criticism of life: _The Vanity of Human +Wishes_ is magnificent criticism of life; but Mr Arnold has told us +that Dryden and Pope and Johnson are but "classics of our prose." That +there is criticism of life _in_ poetry is true; but then in poetry +there is everything. + +It would also, no doubt, be possible to pick other holes in the paper. +The depreciation of the "historic estimate," instead of a simple hint +to correct it by the intrinsic, is certainly one. Another is a +distinct arbitrariness in the commendation or discommendation of the +examples selected. No one in his senses would put the _Chanson de +Roland_ on a level with the _Iliad_ as a whole; but some among those +people who happen to possess an equal acquaintance with Greek and Old +French will demur to Mr Arnold's assignment of an ineffably superior +poetical quality to one of the two passages he quotes over the other. +So yet again with the denial of "high seriousness" to Chaucer. One +feels disposed to enter and argue out a whole handful of not quite +contradictory pleas, such as "He _has_ high seriousness" (_vide_ the +"Temple of Mars," the beginning of the _Parliament of Fowls_, and many +other places): "Why should he have high seriousness?" (a most +effective demurrer); and "What _is_ high seriousness, except a fond +thing vainly invented for the nonce?" + +But, as has so constantly to be said in reference to Mr Arnold, these +things do not matter. He must have his catchwords: and so "criticism +of life" and "high seriousness" are introduced at their and his peril. +He must have his maintenance of the great classics, and so he exposes +what I fear may be called no very extensive or accurate acquaintance +with Old French. He must impress on us that conduct is three-fourths +of life, and so he makes what even those who stop short of +_latreia_ in regard to Burns may well think mistakes about that +poet likewise. But all the spirit, all the tendency, of the +_Introduction_ is what it ought to be, and the plea for the +"real" estimate is as wholly right in principle as it is partly wrong +in application. + +It is well borne out by the two interesting articles on Gray and Keats +which Mr Arnold contributed to the same work. In the former, and here +perhaps only, do we find him putting his shoulder to the work of +critical advocacy and sympathy with an absolutely whole heart. With +Wordsworth, with Byron, with Heine, he was on points more or fewer at +grave difference; though he affected to regard Goethe as a _magnus +Apollo_ of criticism and creation both, I think in his heart of +hearts there must have been some misgivings; and it is impossible that +he should not have known his fancy for people like the Guerins to be +mere _engouement_. Gray's case was different. The resemblances +between subject and critic were extraordinary. Mr Arnold is really an +industrious, sociable, and moderately cheerful Gray of the nineteenth +century; Gray an indolent, recluse, more melancholy Arnold of the +eighteenth. Again, the literary quality of the bard of the +_Elegy_ was exactly of the kind which stimulates critics most. +From Sainte-Beuve downwards the fraternity has, justly or unjustly, +been accused of a tendency to extol writers who are a little +problematical, who approach the second class, above the unquestioned +masters. And there was the yet further stimulus of redressing wrongs. +Gray, though a most scholarly poet, has always pleased the vulgar +rather than the critics, and he had the singular fate of being +dispraised both by Johnson and by Wordsworth. But in this paper of Mr +Arnold's the wheel came full circle. Everything that can possibly be +said for Gray--more than some of us would by any means indorse--is +here said for him: here he has provided an everlasting critical +harbour, into which he may retreat whensoever the popular or the +critical breeze turns adverse. + +And the Keats, less disputable in its general estimate, is equally +good in itself, and specially interesting as a capital example of Mr +Arnold's polemic--_the_ capital example, indeed, if we except the +not wholly dissimilar but much later article on Shelley's _Life_. +He is rather unduly severe on the single letter of Keats which he +quotes; but that was his way, and it is after all only a justifiable +rhetorical _reculade_, with the intent to leap upon the maudlin +defenders of the poet as a sort of hero of M. Feydeau, and rend them. +The improvement of the mere fashion, as compared with the +fantasticalities of the _Friendship's Garland_ period, is simply +enormous. And the praise which follows is praise really in the grand +style--praise, the style and quality of which are positively rejoicing +to the heart from their combination of fervour and accuracy, from +their absolute fulfilment of the ideal of a word shockingly misused in +these latter days, the word Appreciation. The personal sympathy which +Mr Arnold evidently had with Gray neither makes nor mars here; all is +purely critical, purely literary. And yet higher praise has never been +given by any save the mere superlative-sloppers of the lower press, +nor juster criticism meted out by the veriest critical Rhadamanthus. +Of its scale and kind, this, I think, is the most perfect example of +Mr Arnold's critical power, and it is so late that it shows that power +to have been not merely far off exhaustion, but actually, like sound +old wine, certain to improve for years to come. + +In the seven years that were left to him after the publication of the +_Byron_, Mr Arnold did not entirely confine himself to the +service of his only true mistress Literature. But he never fell again +so completely into the power of Duessa as he had fallen between 1867 +and 1877. His infidelities were chiefly in the direction of politics, +not of religion or irreligion, and they were of a less gay and +frivolous character than those of a generally similar kind in earlier +dates. They were partly devoted to the change which has brought it +about, that, while during the third quarter of the century the +Conservatives were in power, though on three different occasions, yet +in each for absolutely insignificant terms, in the fourth Mr +Gladstone's tenure of office from 1880 to 1885 has been the only +period of real Liberal domination. But although he dealt with the +phenomenon from various points of view in such articles as "The Nadir +of Liberalism," the "Zenith of Conservatism," and so forth, it was +chiefly, as was natural at the time, in relation to Ireland that he +exercised his political pen, and enough has been said about these +Irish articles by anticipation above. _Discourses in America_, +the result of his lecturing tour to that country in 1883-84, and the +articles on Amiel, Tolstoi, and Shelley's Life, which represent his +very last stage of life, require more particular attention. + +The _Discourses in America_, two of them specially written, and +the other, originally a Cambridge "Rede" discourse, recast for the +Western Hemisphere, must always rank with the most curious and +interesting of Mr Arnold's works: but the very circumstances of their +composition and delivery made it improbable, if not impossible, that +they should form one of his best. These circumstances were of a kind +which reproduces itself frequently in the careers of all men of any +public distinction. In his days of comparative obscurity, or in some +position of "greater freedom and less responsibility," even when he +ceases to be obscure, a man deals faithfully, but perhaps a little +flippantly, with this or that person, thing, nation, subject, +doctrine. Afterwards he is brought into a relation with the person or +nation, into a position as regards the thing, subject, or doctrine, +which necessitates, if not exactly a distinct recantation in the +humiliating sense attached to the Latin, yet a more or less graceful +and ingenious palinode in the more honourable one which we allow to +the Greek equivalent and original. Mr Arnold could never be lacking in +grace or in ingenuity; but he certainly had, in his earlier work, +allowed it to be perfectly visible that the world of American +politics, American manners, American institutions and ways generally, +was not in his eyes by any means a world all of sweetness or all of +light. + +His sense of the ludicrous, and his sense of art, alike precluded even +the idea of a clumsy apology, and though, as was to be expected, the +folk of the baser sort who exist everywhere may not have been pleased +with his Discourses, the people of the United States generally did not +owe him or show him any grudge for being frank and consistent as well +as polite. The subjects were selected and grouped with great skill. +"Numbers" dealt with the burning question of democracy, which must +ever be uppermost--or as nethermost not less important--in a republic; +and dealt with it after the more moderate, not the extremer form, of +that combination of literature and politics which Mr Arnold had always +affected. "Literature and Science," the middle discourse, attacked a +question which, so far as the nationality of his audience was +concerned, had nothing burning about it, which the lecturer was +singularly well qualified to treat from the one side, and which is +likely to retain its actuality and its moment for many a day and year, +perhaps many a century. "Emerson," the last, descended from +generalities to the consideration of a particular subject, at once +specially American and specially literary. It would have been hard +indeed to exhibit better composition in the grouping of the subjects +as regards their classes, and criticism may be defied to find better +examples of each class than those actually taken. + +It is not clear that quite such high praise can be given to the +execution, and the reason is plain: it was in the execution, not in +the composition and scheme, that the hard practical difficulties of +the task came in. Long harnessed official as he was, and preacher as +he was, in his critical character, of Law, Order, Restraint, Mr Arnold +was both too much of an Englishman and too much of a genius not to be +ill to ride with the curb. And, save perhaps in "Literature and +Science" (which was not at first written for an American audience at +all), the pressure of the curb--I had almost said of the twitch--is +too often evident, or at least suggested. This especially applies to +the first, the longest, the most ambitious, and, as its author would +say, most "nobly serious" of the three. There are quite admirable +things in "Numbers"; and the descant on the worship of the great +goddess Aselgeia, and its effect upon France, is not only nobly +serious from the point of view of morality, but is one of Mr Arnold's +best claims to the title of a political philosopher, and even of a +political prophet. But it is less easy to say that this passage +appears to be either specially in place or well composed with its +companions. Perhaps the same is true of the earlier part, and its +extensive dealings with Isaiah and Plato. As regards the prophet, it +is pretty certain that of Mr Arnold's hearers, the larger number did +not care to have Isaiah spoken about in that particular manner, while +some at least of the rest did not care to have him spoken about at +all. Of the philosopher, it is equally safe to say that the great +majority knew very little, and that of the small minority, some must +have had obstinate questionings connected with the appearance of Plato +as an authority on the moral health of nations, and with the +application of Mr Arnold's own very true and very noble doctrine about +Aselgeia. In fact, although the lecture is the most thoughtful, the +most serious in part, the most forcible, and the truest of all Mr +Arnold's political or social discourses, yet it shares with all of +them the reproach of a touch of desultory dilettantism. + +The others, at least equally interesting in parts, are much better as +wholes. The opening of the "Emerson," with its fond reminiscence of +Oxford, is in a vein which Mr Arnold did not often work, but which +always yielded him gold. In the words about Newman, one seems to +recognise very much more than meets the ear--an explanation of much in +the Arnoldian gospel, on something like the principle of revulsion, of +soured love, which accounts for still more in the careers of his +contemporaries, Mr Pattison and Mr Froude. He is less happy on +Carlyle--he never was very happy on Carlyle, and for obvious +reasons--but here he jars less than usual. As for Emerson himself, +some readers have liked Emerson better than Carlyle at first, but have +found that Carlyle "wears" a great deal better than Emerson. It seems +to have been the other way with Mr Arnold; yet he is not uncritical +about Emerson himself. On Emerson's poetry he is even, as on his own +principles he was, perhaps, bound to be, rather hypercritical. Most of +it, no doubt, is not poetry at all; but it has "once in a hundred +years," as Mr O'Shaughnessy sang, the blossoming of the aloe, the +star-shower of poetic meteors. And while, with all reverence, one is +bound to say that his denying the title of "great writer" to Carlyle +is merely absurd--is one of those caprices which somebody once told us +are the eternal foes of art--he is not unjust in denying that title to +Emerson. But after justifying his policy of not "cracking up" by still +further denying his subject the title of a great philosophic thinker, +he proceeds to find a pedestal for him at last as a friend and leader +of those who would "live in the spirit." With such a judgment one has +no fault to find, because it must be in all cases an almost purely +personal one. To some Gautier, with his doctrine of + + "Sculpte, lime, cisele," + +as the great commandment of the creative artist, has been a friend and +leader in the life of the spirit: to Mr Arnold he was only a sort of +unspiritual innkeeper. To Mr Arnold, Maurice de Guerin, with his +second-hand Quinetism, was a friend and leader in the life of the +spirit; others scarcely find him so. "This is this to thee and that to +me." + +The third (strictly the middle) piece fortunately requires no +allowances, and suffers from no drawbacks. "Literature and Science" is +an apology for a liberal education, and for a rationally ordered +hierarchy of human study, which it would be almost impossible to +improve, and respecting which it is difficult to think that it can +ever grow obsolete. Not only was Mr Arnold here on his own ground, but +he was fighting for his true mistress, with the lance and sword and +shield that he had proved. And the result is like that, of the +fortunate fights of romance: he thrusts his antagonists straight over +the crupper, he sends them rolling on the ground, and clutching its +sand with their fingers. Even Mr Huxley, stoutest and best of all the +Paynim knights, never succeeded in wiping off this defeat; and it is +tolerably certain that no one else will. The language of the piece is +unusually lacking in ornateness or fanciful digression; but the logic +is the strongest that Mr Arnold ever brought to bear. + +The three last essays we have mentioned, apart from the pathetic and +adventitious interest which attaches to them as last, would be in any +case among the best of their author's, and their value is (at least, +as it seems to me) in an ascending scale. To care very much for that +on Count Tolstoi is not easy for those who are unfashionable enough +not to care very much for the eloquent Russian himself. Nothing is +satisfactory that one can only read in translations. But Mr Arnold, in +whom a certain perennial youthfulness was (as it often, if not always, +is in the chosen of the earth) one of his most amiable features, seems +to have conceived a new _engouement_ for this new and quaintly +flavoured Russian literature. Had he lived longer, he probably would +have sung us something in a cautionary strain; just as it can never be +sufficiently regretted that he did not live long enough to handle +Ibsenism. And it would have been very particularly pleasant to hear +him on those _Memoirs of a Mongol Minx_ (as they have been +profanely called), which are assigned to the great Marie Bashkirtseff; +or on those others of the learned She-Mathematician, who waited with a +friend on a gentleman and suggested that he should marry _one_ of +them, no matter which, and lead both about. But the mixture of +freshness, of passion, and of regard for conduct in Count Tolstoi +could not but appeal to him; and he has given us a very charming +_causerie_ on _Anna Karenina_, notable--like O'Rourke's +noble feast--to + + "Those who were there + And those who were not,"-- + +to those who have read the book itself, and to those who have not yet +found time to read it. + +I cannot plead much greater affection for the lucubrations of Amiel +than for Count Tolstoi's dealings with that odd compound of crudity +and rottenness, the Russian nature; but Mr Arnold's "Amiel" is +admirable. Never was there a more "gentlemanly correction," a more +delicate and good-humoured setting to rights, than that which he +administers to Amiel's two great panegyrists (who happened to be Mr +Arnold's own niece and Mr Arnold's own friend). On subjects like Maya +and the "great wheel" it would almost be impossible to conceive, and +certainly impossible to find, a happier commentator than Mr Arnold, +though perhaps in the regions of theology he had a private Maya, a +very Great Wheel, of his own. The firmness with which he rebukes the +maunderings of the Genevese hypochondriac--of whom some one once +unkindly remarked that he was not so much intoxicated with Idealism as +suffering from the subsequent headache--is equalled by the kindness of +the dealing; and the quiet decision with which he puts his fine +writing in its proper place is better still. Nobody could call Mr +Arnold a Philistine or one insensible to _finesse_, grace, +_sehnsucht_, the impalpable and intangible charm of melancholy +and of thought. And his comments on Amiel's loaded pathos and his +muddled meditation are therefore invaluable. Nor is he less happy or +less just in the praise which, though not the first, he was one of the +first to give to by far the strongest side of Amiel's talent, his +really remarkable power of literary criticism. + +But the best wine was still kept for the very last. It will have been +observed in these brief sketches of his work that, since his return to +the fields of literature proper, Mr Arnold had drawn nearer to the +_causerie_ and farther from the abstract critical essay,--that he had +taken to that mixture of biography, abstract of work, and interspersed +critical comment which Sainte-Beuve, though he did not exactly invent +it, had perfected, and which somebody, I think, has recently described +as "intensely irritating." Well! well! pearls, as we all know, are +irritating to certain classes of consumers. He had from the first done +this well, he now did it consummately. That he took occasion, in the +paper on Shelley's life which appeared in the _Nineteenth Century_ for +January 1888, to repeat his pet heresy about Shelley's poetry, matters +nothing at all. It is an innocent defiance, and no attempt whatever is +made to support it by argument. The purpose of the essay is quite +different. Already, some years before, in his article on Keats, Mr +Arnold had dealt some pretty sharp blows both at the indiscretion of a +certain class of modern literary biographers, and at the pawing and +morbid sentimentality of the same persons or others. He had a new and +a better opportunity in the matter he was now handling, and he struck +more strongly, more repeatedly, and with truer aim than ever. From the +moment of its appearance to the present day, this piece has been an +unceasing joy to all who love literature with a sane devotion. Its +composition is excellent; it selects just the right points, dwells on +them in just the right way, and drops them just when we have had +enough. In mere style it yields to nothing of its author's, and is +conspicuously and quite triumphantly free from his repetitions and +other mannerisms. No English writer--indeed one may say no writer at +all--has ever tempered such a blend of quiet contempt with perfect +good-humour and perfect good-breeding. Dryden would have written with +an equally fatal serenity, but not so lightly; Voltaire with as much +lightness, but not nearly so much like a gentleman--which may also be +said Of Courier. Thackeray could not have helped a blaze of +indignation--honest and healthy, but possibly just +_plusquam_-artistic--at the unspeakable persons who think that by +blackening the unhappy Harriet they can whiten Shelley. And almost any +one would have been likely either to commit the complementary error of +being too severe on Shelley himself, or, if this were avoided, to +underlie the charge of being callous and unsympathetic. Every one of +these rocks, and others, Mr Arnold has avoided; and he has left us in +the piece one of the most perfect examples that exist of the English +essay on subjects connected with literature. In its own special +division of _causerie_ the thing is not only without a superior, it is +almost without a peer; its insinuated or passing literary comments are +usually as happy as its censure of vital matters, and even the +above-referred-to heresy itself gives it a certain piquancy. Ill +indeed was the fate that took its author away so soon after the +completion of this little masterpiece; yet he could not have desired +to leave the world with a better diploma-performance, lodged as an +example of his actual accomplishment. + +We must now return, for the last time unfortunately, to the narrative +of biographical events. December 1877 furnishes, in some letters to +his sister, evidence that he was increasingly "spread" (as the French +say quaintly) by notices of parties and persons--Mr Disraeli and Mr +Gladstone, Mr Huxley and Mr Ruskin. One is glad to hear of the +last-named that the writer "is getting to like him "--the passages on +the author of _Modern Painters_ in the earlier letters are +certainly not enthusiastic--and that "he gains much by his fancy being +forbidden to range through the world of coloured cravats." This +beneficial effect of evening dress is not limited to Mr Ruskin, and is +so well expressed that one only wishes Mr Arnold had let his own fancy +range more freely in such epistolary criticisms of life. We hear that +Mr J.R. Green "likes the Reformation and Puritanism less the more he +looks into them," again a not uncommon experience--and that Mr +Stopford Brooke is deriving much edification from the review of his +_Primer_. The next year continues the series of letters to M. +Fontanes, and gives a pleasant phrase in one to another sister, Mrs +Cropper. "My poems have had no better friends in their early and needy +days than my own sisters"--wherein Mr Arnold unconsciously quotes +_Goblin Market_, "there is no friend like a sister." Later, Mr +Freeman is dashed off, _a la maniere noire_, as "an ardent, +learned, and honest man, but a ferocious pedant." 1879 yields a letter +to Miss Arnold, expressing the intention to send the Wordsworth book +of selections to M. Scherer, and beg him to review it, which request +resulted in one of the very best, perhaps _the_ very best, of +that critic's essays in English Literature. Mr Arnold is distressed +later at Renan's taking Victor Hugo's poetry so prodigiously _au +serieux_, just as some of us have been, if not distressed, yet +mildly astonished, at Mr Arnold for not taking it, with all its +faults, half seriously enough. Geist, the dachshund, appears +agreeably, with many other birds and beasts, in a May letter of this +year, and botany reinforces zoology in a later one to Mr Grant Duff. + +1880 is at first less fertile, but gives an amusing account of a +semi-royal reception of Cardinal Newman at the Duke of Norfolk's in +May, and a very interesting series of letters from Pontresina in the +autumn. Fortunately for us Mrs Arnold was not with him, and we profit +by his letters to her. In one of them there is a very pleasing and +probably unconscious touch. "Rapallo [the Duchess of Genoa's husband] +smokes the whole evening: _but I think he has a good heart_." And +later still we have the curious and not uncharacteristic information +that he is reading _David Copperfield_ for the first time (whence +no doubt its undue predominance in a certain essay), and the +description of Burns as "a beast with splendid gleams," a view which +has been fully developed since. On February 21, 1881, there is another +interview, flattering as ever, with Lord Beaconsfield, and later he +tells M. Fontanes, "I never much liked Carlyle," which indeed we knew. +The same correspondent has the only references preserved to Dean +Stanley's death; but the magnificent verses which that death produced +make anything else superfluous. They appeared in the first number of +the _Nineteenth Century_ for 1882, when New Year's Day gives us a +melancholy prediction. If "I live to be eighty [_i.e._, in some +three years from the present moment], I shall probably be the only +person in England who reads anything but newspapers and scientific +publications." Too gloomy a view, let us hope; yet with something in +it. And a letter, a very little later, gives us interesting hints of +his method in verse composition, which was to hunt a Dictionary +(Richardson's) for good but unusual words--Theophile Gautier's way +also, as it happens, though probably he did not know that. + +These later letters contain so many references to living people that +one has to be careful in quoting from them; but as regards himself, +there is of course no such need of care. That self-ruthlessness which +always prevented him from scamping work is amazingly illustrated in +one of October 1882, which tells how he sat up till five in the +morning rewriting a lecture he was to deliver in Liverpool, and got up +at eight to start for the place of delivery. Let us hope that a +champagne luncheon there--"chiefly doctors, but you know I like +doctors"--revived him after the night and the journey. And two months +later he makes pleasant allusion to "that demon Traill," in reference +to a certain admirable parody of _Poor Matthias_. He had thought +Mr Gladstone "hopelessly prejudiced against" him, and was +proportionately surprised when in August 1883 he was offered by that +Minister a pension of L250 for service to the poetry and literature of +England. Few Civil List pensions have been so well deserved. But Mr +Arnold, as most men of his quality would have been, was at once struck +with the danger of evil constructions being put by the baser sort on +the acceptance of an extra allowance from public funds by a man who +already had a fair income from them, and a comfortable pension in the +ordinary way to look forward to. Mr John Morley, however, and Lord +Lingen, luckily succeeded in quieting his scruples, and only the very +basest sort grumbled. The great advantage, of course, was that it +enabled him to retire, as soon as his time was up, without too great +loss of income. + +A lecturing tour to America was already planned, and October 7, 1883 +is the last date from Cobham, "New York" succeeding it without any; +for Mr Arnold had the reprehensible and, in official persons, rare +habit of very constantly omitting dates, though not places. The St +Nicholas Club, "a delightful, poky, dark, exclusive little old club of +the Dutch families," is the only place in which he finds peace. For, +as one expected, the interviewers made life terrible. These American +letters are interesting reading enough, but naturally tend to be +little more than a replica of similar letters from other Englishmen +who have done the same thing. As has been quite frankly admitted here, +Mr Arnold never made any effort, and seldom seems to have been +independently prompted, to write what are called "amusing" letters: he +merely tells a plain tale of journeys, lectures, meals, persons, +scenery, manners and customs, etc. Chicago seems to have vindicated +its character for "character" by hospitably forcing him to eat dinner +and supper "on end," and by describing him in its newspapers as "an +elderly bird pecking at grapes on a trellis." The whole tour, +including a visit to Canada, lasted nearly five months, and +brought--not the profit which some people expected, but--a good sum, +with wrinkles as to more if the experiment were repeated. And when he +came back to England, the lectures were collected and printed. + +In February 1885 we have, addressed to his eldest daughter, then +married and living in America, a definition of "real civilisation" as +the state "when the world does not begin till 8 P.M. and goes on from +that till 1 A.M., not later." This is, though doubtless jestful, +really a _point de repere_ for the manners of the later +nineteenth century as concerns a busy man who likes society. In the +eighteenth, and earlier in the nineteenth, men as busy as Mr Arnold +practically abstained from "the world" except quite rarely, while "the +world" was not busy. The dachshunds come in for frequent mention. + +On a Sunday in May of this year comes the warning of "a horrid pain +across my chest," which, however, "Andrew Clark thinks [wrongly, +alas!] to be not heart" but indigestion. The _Discourses in +America_, for which their author had a great predilection, came out +later. In August the pain is mentioned again; and the subsequent +remark, "I was a little tired, but the cool champagne at dinner +brought me round," is another ominous hint that it was _not_ +indigestion. Two of the most valuable of all the letters come in +October, one saying, "I think Oxford is still, on the whole, the place +in the world to which I am most attached" ["And so say all of us"]; +the other, after some notice of the Corpus plate, telling how "I got +out to Hinksey and up the hill to within sight of the Cumnor firs. I +cannot describe the effect which this landscape always has upon me: +the hillside with its valleys, and Oxford in the great Thames valley +below." And this walk is again referred to later. He was pleased by a +requisition that he should stand yet again for the Poetry +Professorship, though of course he did not accede to it. And at the +beginning of winter he had a foreign mission (his last) to Berlin, to +get some information for the Government as to German school fees. He +was much lionised, and seems to have enjoyed himself very much during +his stay, the Crown Princess being specially gracious to him. + +Nor was he long in England on his return, though long enough to bring +another mention of the chest pain, and an excellent definition of +education--would there were no worse!--"Reading five pages of the +Greek Anthology every day, and looking out all the words I do not +know." In February 1886 he was back again investigating the Swiss and +Bavarian school systems; and that amiable animal-worship of his +receives a fresh evidence in the mention and mourning of the death of +"dear Lola" (not Montes, but another; in short, a pony), with a sigh +for "a _meche_ of her hair." The journey was finished by way of +France towards the end of March. At Hamburg Mr Arnold was "really [and +very creditably] glad to have had the opportunity of calling a man +Your Magnificence," that being, it seems, the proper official style in +addressing the burgomaster. And May took him back to America, to see +his married daughter and divers old friends. He remained there till +the beginning of September, improving, as he thought, in health, but +meeting towards the close an awkward bathing accident, which involved +no risk of drowning, but gave him a shock that was followed by a week +or two of troublesome attacks of pain across the chest. There is very +much in the letters of the time about the political crisis of 1886. +His retirement from official work came in November, and the letters +are fuller than ever of delight in the Cobham landscape. + +But the warnings grew more frequent, and we know that long before this +he had had no delusions about their nature. Indeed, it is doubtful +whether he had ever had any, considering the fact of the malady, which +had, as he says in a singularly manly and dignified _commentatio +mortis_ dated January 29, 1887, struck down his father and +grandfather in middle life long before they came to his present age. +He "refuses every invitation to lecture or make addresses." The +letters of 1887, too, are very few, and contain little of interest, +except an indication of a visit to Fox How; while much the same may be +said of those, also few, from the early months of 1888. The last of +all contains a reference to _Robert Elsmere_. Five days later, on +April 15, a sudden exertion, it seems, brought on the fatal attack, +and he died. He had outlived his grand climacteric of sixty-three +(which he had thought would be "the end as well as the climax") by two +years and three months. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CONCLUSION. + + +The personal matters which usually, and more or less gracefully, fill +the beginning of the end of a biography, are perhaps superfluous in +the case of a man who died so recently, and who was so well known as +Mr Matthew Arnold. Moreover, if given at all, they should be given by +some one who knew him more intimately than did the present writer. He +was of a singularly agreeable presence, without being in the sense of +the painter's model exactly "handsome"; and in particular he could +boast a very pleasant and not in the least artificial smile. Some +artificiality of manner was sometimes attributed to him, I think +rather unjustly; but he certainly had "tricks and manners" of the kind +very natural to men of decided idiosyncrasy, unless they transcend all +mere trick, after the fashion which we know in Scott, which we are +sure of, without knowing, in Shakespeare. One of these Mr George +Russell glances at in the preface to the _Letters_, a passage +which I read with not a little amusement, because I could confirm it +from a memory of my only conversation with Mr Arnold. He had been +good-humouredly expostulating with me for overvaluing some French +poet. I forget at the distance of seventeen or eighteen years who it +was, but it was not Gautier. I replied in some such words as, "Well; +perhaps he is not very important in himself, but I think he is +'important _for us_,' if I may borrow that." So he looked at me +and said, "_I_ didn't write that anywhere, did I?" And when I +reminded him that he had told us how Sainte-Beuve said it of +Lamartine, he declared that he had quite forgotten it. Which might, or +might not, be Socratic. + +But I should imagine that the complaints of his affectations in +ordinary society were as much exaggerated as I am sure that the +opposite complaints of the humdrum character of his letters are. +Somebody talks of the "wicked charm" which a popular epithet or +nickname possesses, and something of the sort seems to have hung about +"The Apostle of Culture," "The Prophet of Sweetness and Light," and +the rest. He only deserved his finical reputation inasmuch as he was +unduly given to the use of these catch-words, not because he in any +undue way affected to "look the part" or live up to them. And as for +the letters, it must be remembered that he was a very busy man, with +clerical work of the official kind enough to disgust a very +Scriblerus; that he had, so far as the published letters show us, no +very intimate friend, male or (still better) female, outside his own +family; and further, that the degeneration of the art of +letter-writing is not a mere phrase, it is a fact. Has any of my +readers many--or any--correspondents like Scott or like Southey, like +Lamb or like FitzGerald, like Madame de Sevigne or like Lady Mary? He +is lucky if he has. Indeed, the simplicity of the _Letters_ is +the very surest evidence of a real simplicity in the nature. In the +so-called best letter-writers it may be shrewdly suspected that this +simplicity is, with rare exceptions, absent. Scott had it; but then +Scott's genius as a novelist overflowed into his letters, as did +Southey's talent of universal writing, and Lamb's unalterable +quintessence of quaintness. But though I will allow no one to take +precedence of me as a champion of Madame de Sevigne, I do not think +that simplicity is exactly the note of that beautiful and gracious +person; it is certainly not that of our own Lady Mary, or of Horace +Walpole, or of Pope, or of Byron. Some of these, as we know, or +suspect with a strength equal to knowledge, write with at least a +sidelong glance at possible publication; some with a deliberate +intention of it; all, I think, with a sort of unconscious +consciousness of "how it will look" on paper. Of this in Mr Arnold's +letters there is absolutely no sign. Even when he writes to +comparative strangers, he never lays himself out for a "point" or a +phrase, rarely even for a joke. To his family (and it should be +remembered that the immense majority of the letters that we possess +are family letters) he is naturally more familiar, but the familiarity +does not bring with it any quips or gambols. Only in the very early +letters, and chiefly in those to Wyndham Slade, is there any +appearance of second thought, of "conceit," in the good sense. Later, +he seems to have been too much absorbed in his three functions of +official, critic, and poet to do more than shake hands by letter and +talk without effort. + +But if he, as the phrase is, "put himself out" little as to +letter-writing, it was by no means the same in those other functions +which have been just referred to. In later years (it is Mr Humphry +Ward, I think, who is our sufficient authority for it) poetry was but +occasional amusement and solace to him, prose his regular avocation +from task-work; and there is abundant evidence that, willingly or +unwillingly, he never allowed either to usurp the place of the +vocation which he had accepted. Not everybody, perhaps, is so +scrupulous. It is not an absolutely unknown thing to hear men boast of +getting through their work somehow or other, that they may devote +themselves to _parerga_ which they like, and which they are +pleased to consider more dignified, more important, nearer the chief +end of man. And from the extremely common assumption that other +people, whether they confess this or not, act upon it, one may at +least not uncharitably suppose that a much larger number would so act +if they dared, or had the opportunity. This was not Mr Arnold's +conception of the relations of the hired labourer and the labour which +gains him his hire. Not only does he seem to have performed his actual +inspecting duties with that exact punctiliousness which in such cases +is much better than zeal, but he did not grudge the expenditure of his +art on the requirements, and not the strict requirements only, of his +craft. The unfitness of poets for business has been often enough +proved to be a mere fond thing vainly invented; but it was never +better disproved than in this particular instance. + +Of the manner in which he had discharged these duties, some idea may +be formed from the volume of _Reports_ which was edited, the year +after his death, by Sir Francis Sandford. It would really be difficult +to imagine a better display of that "sweet reasonableness," the +frequency of which phrase on a man's lips does not invariably imply +the presence of the corresponding thing in his conduct. It would be +impossible for the most plodding inspector, who never dared commit a +sonnet or an essay, to deal with his subject in a way showing better +acquaintance with it, more interest in it, or more business-like +abstinence from fads, and flights, and flings. Faint and far-off +suggestions of the biographer of Arminius may, indeed, by a very +sensitive reader, be discovered in the slightly eccentric suggestion +that the Latin of the Vulgate (of which Mr Arnold himself was justly +fond) should be taught in primary schools, and in the rather perverse +coupling of "Scott and Mrs Hemans." But these are absolutely the only +approaches to naughtiness in the whole volume. It is a real misfortune +that the nature of the subject should make readers of the book +unlikely to be ever numerous; for it supplies a side of its author's +character nowhere else (except in glimpses) provided by his extant +work. It may even be doubted, by those who have read it, whether +"cutting blocks with a razor" is such a Gothamite proceeding as it is +sometimes held to be. For in this case the blocks are chopped as well +as the homeliest bill-hook could do it; and we know that the razor was +none the blunter. At any rate, the ethical document is one of the +highest value, and very fit, indeed, to be recommended to the +attention of young gentlemen of genius who think it the business of +the State to provide for them, and not to require any dismal drudgery +from them in return. + +But the importance of Mr Arnold to English history and English +literature has, of course, little or nothing to do with his official +work. The faithful performance of that work is important to his +character; and the character of the work itself colours very +importantly, and, as we have seen, not perhaps always to unmitigated +advantage, the nature of his performances as a man of letters. But it +is as a man of letters, as a poet, as a critic, and perhaps most of +all as both combined, that he ranks for history and for the world. + +A detailed examination of his poetic performance has been attempted in +the earlier pages of this little book, as well as some general remarks +upon it; but we may well find room here for something more general +still. That the poet is as much above the prose-writer in rank as he +is admittedly of an older creation, has always been held; and here, as +elsewhere, I am not careful to attempt innovation. In fact, though it +may seem unkind to say so, it may be suspected that nobody has ever +tried to elevate the function of the prose-writer above that of the +poet, unless he thought he could write great prose and knew he could +not write great poetry. But in another order of estimate than this, Mr +Arnold's poetic work may seem of greater value than his prose, always +admirable and sometimes consummate as the latter is, if we take each +at its best. + +At its best--and this is how, though he would himself seem to have +sometimes felt inclined to dispute the fact, we must reckon a poet. +His is not poetry of the absolutely trustworthy kind. It is not like +that of Shelley or of Keats, who, when their period of mere juvenility +is past, simply cannot help writing poetry; nor is it, on the other +hand, like that of Wordsworth, who flies and flounders with an +incalculable and apparently irresponsible alternation. It is +rather--though I should rank it far higher, on all but the historic +estimate, than Gray's--like that of Gray. The poet has in him a vein, +or, if the metaphor be preferred, a spring, of the most real and +rarest poetry. But the vein is constantly broken by faults, and never +very thick; the spring is intermittent, and runs at times by drops +only. There is always, as it were, an effort to get it to yield +freely, to run clear and constant. And--again as in the case of +Gray--the poet subjects himself to a further disability by all manner +of artificial restrictions, struggles to comply with this or that +system, theories, formulas, tricks. He will not "indulge his genius." +And so it is but rarely that we get things like the _Scholar-Gipsy_, +like the _Forsaken Merman_, like the second _Isolation_; and when we +do get such things there is sometimes, as in the case of the +peroration to _Sohrab and Rustum_, and perhaps the splendid +opening of _Westminster Abbey_ and _Thyrsis_, a certain +sense of parade, of the elaborate assumption of the singing-robe. +There is too seldom the sensation which Coleridge unconsciously +suggested in the poem that heralded the poetry of the nineteenth +century. We do not feel that + + "The fair breeze blew, the while foam flew, + The furrow followed free"-- + +that + + "We were the first that ever burst + Into that silent sea;" + +but that a mighty launch of elaborate preparation is taking place, +that we are pleased and orderly spectators standing round, and that +the ship is gliding in due manner, but with no rush or burst, into the +sea of poetry. While elsewhere there may be even the sense of effort +and preparation without the success. + +But, once more, a poet is to be judged first by his best things, and +secondly by a certain _aura_ or atmosphere, by a nameless, +intangible, but sensible quality, which, now nearer and fuller, now +farther and fainter, is over his work throughout. In both respects Mr +Arnold passes the test. The things mentioned above and others, even +many others, are the right things. They do not need the help of that +rotten reed, the subject, to warrant and support them; we know that +they are in accordance with the great masters, but we do not care +whether they are or not. They sound the poetic note; they give the +poetic flash and iridescence; they cause the poetic intoxication. Even +in things not by any means of the best as wholes, you may follow that +gleam safely. The exquisite revulsion of the undertone in +_Bacchanalia_-- + + "Ah! so the silence was, + So was the hush;" + +the honey-dropping trochees of the _New Sirens_; the description +of the poet in _Resignation_; the outburst-- + + "What voices are these on the clear night air?" + +of _Tristram and Iseult_; the melancholy meditation of _A +Summer Night_ and _Dover Beach_, with the plangent note so +cunningly yet so easily accommodated to the general tone and motive of +the piece,--these and a hundred other things fulfil all the +requirements of the true poetic criticism, which only marks, and only +asks for, the _differentia_ of poetry. + +And this poetic moment--this (if one may use the words, about another +matter, of one who wrote no poetry, yet had more than all but three or +four poets), this "exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss +of the spouse, and ingression into the divine shadow" which poetry and +poetry alone confers upon the fit readers of it--is never far off or +absent for long together in Mr Arnold's verse. His command of it is +indeed uncertain. But all over his work, from _The Strayed +Reveller_ to _Westminster Abbey_, it may happen at any minute, +and it does happen at many minutes. This is what makes a poet: not the +most judicious selection of subject, not the most studious +contemplation and, as far as he manages it, representation of the +grand style and the great masters. And this is what Mr Arnold has. + +That his prose, admirable as it always is in form and invaluable as it +often is in matter, is on the whole inferior to his verse, is by no +means a common opinion, though it was expressed by some good judges +both during his life and at the time of his death. As we have seen, +both from a chance indication in his own letters and from Mr Humphry +Ward's statement, he took very great pains with it; indeed, internal +evidence would be sufficient to establish this if we had no positive +external testimony whatsoever. He came at a fortunate time, when the +stately yet not pompous or over-elaborated model of the latest +Georgian prose, raised from early Georgian "drabness" by the efforts +of Johnson, Gibbon, and Burke, but not proceeding to the extremes of +any of the three, was still the academic standard; but when a certain +freedom on the one side, and a certain grace and colour on the other, +were being taken from the new experiments of nineteenth-century prose +proper. Whether he or his contemporary Mr Froude was the greatest +master of this particular blend is a question which no doubt had best +be answered by the individual taste of the competent. I should say +myself that Mr Froude at certain moments rose higher than Mr Arnold +ever did; nothing of the latter's can approach that magnificent +passage on the passing of the Middle Ages and on the church-bell sound +that memorises it. And Mr Froude was also free from the mannerisms, at +times amounting to very distinct affectation, to which, in his middle +period more especially, Mr Arnold succumbed. But he did not quite keep +his friend's high level of distinction and _tenue_. It was almost +impossible for Mr Arnold to be slipshod--I do not mean in the sense of +the composition books, which is mostly an unimportant sense, but in +one quite different; and he never, as Mr Froude sometimes did, +contented himself with correct but ordinary writing. If his defect was +mannerism, his quality was certain manner. + +The most noticeable, the most easily imitated, and the most doubtful +of his mannerisms was, of course, the famous iteration, which was +probably at first natural, but which, as we see from the +_Letters_, he afterwards deliberately fostered and accentuated, +in order, as he thought, the better to get his new ideas into the +heads of what the type-writer sometimes calls the "Br_u_tish" +public. That it became at times extremely teasing is beyond argument, +and I should be rather afraid that Prince Posterity will be even more +teased by it than we are, because to him the ideas it enforces will +be, and will have been ever since he can remember, obvious and +common-place enough. But when this and some other peccadillos (on +which it is unnecessary to dwell, lest we imitate the +composition-books aforesaid) were absent or even moderately present, +sometimes even in spite of their intrusion, Mr Arnold's style was of a +curiously fascinating character. I have often thought that, in the +good sense of that unlucky word "genteel," this style deserves it far +more than the style either of Shaftesbury or of Temple; while in its +different and nineteenth-century way, it is as much a model of the +"middle" style, neither very plain nor very ornate, but "elegant," as +Addison's own. Yet it is observable that all the three writers just +mentioned keep their place, except with deliberate students of the +subject, rather by courtesy or prescription than by actual conviction +and relish on the part of readers: and it is possible that something +of the same kind may happen in Mr Arnold's case also, when his claims +come to be considered by other generations from the merely formal +point of view. Nor can those claims be said to be very securely based +in respect of matter. It is impossible to believe that posterity will +trouble itself about the dreary apologetics of undogmatism on which he +wasted so much precious time and energy; they will have been arranged +by the Prince's governor on the shelves, with Hobbes's mathematics and +Southey's political essays. "But the criticism," it will be said, +"_that_ ought to endure." No doubt from some points of view it ought, +but will it? So long, or as soon, as English literature is +intelligently taught in universities, it is sure of its place in any +decently arranged course of Higher Rhetoric; so long, or as soon, as +critics consider themselves bound to study the history and documents +of their business, it will be read by them. But what hold does this +give it? Certainly not a stronger hold than that of Dryden's _Essay of +Dramatic Poesy_, which, though some of us may know it by heart, can +scarcely be said to be a commonly read classic. + +The fact is--and no one knew this fact more thoroughly, or would have +acknowledged it more frankly, than Mr Arnold himself--that criticism +has, of all literature that is really literature, the most precarious +existence. Each generation likes, and is hardly wrong in liking, to +create for itself in this province, to which creation is so scornfully +denied by some; and old critics are to all but experts (and apparently +to some of them) as useless as old moons. Nor can one help regretting +that so long a time has been lost in putting before the public a +cheap, complete, handy, and fairly handsome edition of the whole of Mr +Arnold's prose. There is no doubt at all that the existence of such an +edition, even before his death, was part cause, and a large part of +the cause, of the great and continued popularity of De Quincey; and it +is a thousand pities that, before a generation arises which knows him +not, Mr Arnold is not allowed the same chance. As it is, not a little +of his work has never been reprinted at all; some of the rest is +difficult of access, and what there is exists in numerous volumes of +different forms, some cheap, some dear, the whole cumbersome. And if +his prose work seems to me inferior to his poetical in absolute and +perennial value, its value is still very great. Not so much English +prose has that character of grace, of elegance, which has been +vindicated for this, that we can afford to lay aside or to forget such +consummate examples of it. Academic urbanity is not so universal a +feature of our race--the constant endeavour at least to "live by the +law of the _peras_," to observe lucidity, to shun exaggeration, +is scarcely so endemic. Let it be added, too, that if not as the sole, +yet as the chief, herald and champion of the new criticism, as a +front-fighter in the revolutions of literary view which have +distinguished the latter half of the nineteenth century in England, Mr +Arnold will be forgotten or neglected at the peril of the generations +and the individuals that forget or neglect him. + +Little need be added about the loss of actual artistic pleasure which +such neglect must bring. Mr Arnold may never, in prose, be read with +quite the same keenness of delight with which we read him in poetry; +but he will yield delight more surely. His manner, except in his rare +"thorn-crackling" moments, and sometimes even then, will carry off +even the less agreeable matter; with matter at all agreeable, it has a +hardly to be exaggerated charm. + +But it is in his general literary position that Mr Arnold's strongest +title to eminence consists. There have certainly been greater poets in +English: I think there have been greater critics. But as poet and +critic combined, no one but Dryden and Coleridge can be for a moment +placed beside him: the fate of the false Florimel must await all +others who dare that adventure. And if he must yield--yield by a long +way--to Dryden in strength and easy command of whatsoever craft he +tried, to Coleridge in depth and range and philosophical grasp, yet he +has his revenges. Beside his delicacy and his cosmopolitan +accomplishment, Dryden is blunt and unscholarly; beside his directness +of aim, if not always of achievement, his clearness of vision, his +almost business-like adjustment of effort to result, the vagueness and +desultoriness of Coleridge look looser and, in the literary sense, +more disreputable than ever. Here was a man who could not only +criticise but create; who, though he may sometimes, like others, have +convicted his preaching of falsity by his practice, and his practice +of sin by his preaching, yet could in the main make practice and +preaching fit together. Here was a critic against whom the foolish +charge, "You can break, but you cannot make," was confessedly +impossible--a poet who knew not only the rule of thumb, but the rule +of the uttermost art. In him the corruption of the poet had not been +the generation of the critic, as his great predecessor in the two +arts, himself secure and supreme in both, had scornfully said. Both +faculties had always existed, and did always exist, side by side in +him. He might exercise one more freely at one time, one at another; +but the author of the _Preface_ of 1853 was a critic, and a ripe +one, in his heyday of poetry, the author of _Westminster Abbey_ +was a poet in his mellowest autumn of criticism. + +And yet he was something more than both these things, more than both +of these at once. But for that unlucky divagation in the Wilderness, +his life would have been the life of a man of letters only as far as +choice went, with the duties of no dishonourable profession +superadded. And even with the divagation it was mainly and really +this. To find parallels for Mr Arnold in his unflinching devotion to +literature we must, I fear, go elsewhere than to Dryden or to +Coleridge, we must go to Johnson and Southey. And here again we may +find something in him beyond both, in that he had an even nobler +conception of Literature than either. That he would have put her even +too high, would have assigned to her functions which she is unable to +discharge, is true enough; but this is at least no vulgar error. +Against ignoble neglect, against stolid misunderstanding, against +mushroom rivalry, he championed her alike. And it was most certainly +from no base motive. If he wanted an English Academy, I am quite sure +it was not from any desire for a canary ribbon or a sixteen-pointed +star. Yet, after Southey himself in the first half of the century, who +has done so much for letters _qua_ letters as Mr Arnold in the +second? His poems were never popular, and he tried no other of the +popular departments of literature. But he wrote, and I think he could +write, nothing that was not literature, in and by the fact that he was +its writer. It has been observed of others in other kinds, that +somehow or other, by merely living, by pursuing their own arts or +crafts whatever they were, they raised those arts and crafts in +dignity, they bestowed on them as it were a rank, a position. A few--a +very few--at successive times have done this for literature in +England, and Mr Arnold was perhaps the last who did it notably in +ours. One cannot imagine him writing merely for money, for position, +even for fame--for anything but the _devoir_ of the born and +sworn servant of Apollo and Pallas. Such devotion need not, of course, +forbid others of their servants to try his shield now and then with +courteous arms or even at sharps--as he tried many. But it was so +signal, so happy in its general results, so exactly what was required +in and for England at the time, that recognition of it can never be +frank enough, or cordial enough, or too much admiring. Whenever I +think of Mr Arnold it is in those own words of his, which I have +quoted already, and which I quoted to myself on the hill by Hinksey as +I began this little book in the time of fritillaries-- + + "Still nursing the unconquerable hope, + Still clutching the inviolable shade"-- + +the hope and shade that never desert, even if they flit before and +above, the servants and the lovers of the humaner literature. + + + + +INDEX. + + * * * * * +_Alaric at Rome_, 4. + +_Bacchanalia, or the New Age_, 114. +_Balder Dead_, 52, 53. +_Byron, Poetry of_, ed. Arnold, 185. + +_Celtic Literature, On the Study of_, 66, 104 _et seq._ +_Church of Brou, The_, 38. +_Consolation_, 28. +_Cromwell_, 8, 9. +_Culture and Anarchy_, 128 _et seq._ + +_Discourses in America_, 195. +_Dover Beach_, 112. + +_Empedocles on Etna_, 23. +_Essays in Criticism_, 83 _et seq._, 123. +_Eton, A French_, 79 _et seq._ + +_Farewell, A_, 27. +_Forsaken Merman, The_, 19. +_French Eton, A_, 79 _et seq._ +_Friend, To a_, sonnet, 15. +_Friendship's Garland_, 148. + +_God and the Bible_, 137. + +_Heine's Grave_, 115. +_Homer, On Translating_, 66. + +_In Utrumque Paratus_, 20. +_Irish Essays_, 151. +_Isolation_, 31. + +Johnson's Lives of the Poets, ed. Arnold, 169. + +_Last Essays on Church and Religion_, 137, 142. +_Letters_, 1, 15 _et seq._, 214. +_Lines written by a Death-bed_, 32. +_Literature and Dogma_, 131 _et seq._ +_Longing_, 30. + +_Marguerite, To_, 31. +_Memorial Verses_, 26. +_Merman, The Forsaken_, 19. +_Merope_, 60. +_Mixed Essays_, 168 _et seq._ +_Modern Sappho, The_, 17. +_Mycerinus_, 13. + +_New Sirens, The_, 17. + +_Obermann_, 53. +_On the Rhine_, 29. +_On the Study of Celtic Literature_, 66, 104 _et seq._ +_On the Terrace at Berne_, 16. +_On Translating Homer_, 66. + +_Preface_, the, to the 'Poems' of 1853. 33 _et seq._ +_Prose Passages_, 166. + +Renan, Arnold's relations with, 101. +_Requiescat_, 39. +_Resignation_, 20, 185. +_Rugby Chapel_, 115. + +Sainte-Beuve, 59, 203. +_Scholar-Gipsy, The_, 5, 40 _et seq._ +_Schools and Universities on the Continent_, 116. +_Selected Poems_, 184. +Shairp, Principal, lines on Arnold by, 5. +_Shakespeare_, Sonnet to, 15. +_Sick King in Bokhara_, 15. +_Sohrab and Rustum_, 37, 51, 52. +Southey, use of rhymeless metre by, 11. +_St Brandan_, 111. +_St Paul and Protestantism_, 130 _et seq._ +_Stagirius_, 19. +_Strayed Reveller, The_, 10 _et seq._ +_Summer Night, A_, 26. +_Switzerland_, 16. + +Tennyson, influence of, on Arnold, 19. +_Thyrsis_, 111. +_To Fausta_, 19. +_To Marguerite_, 31. +_To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender Leave-taking_, 16, 27. +_Tristram and Iseult_, 24, 25. + +_Voice, The_, 19. + +Ward's _English Poets_, Arnold's Introduction to, 189. +_Westminster Abbey_, 207, 220, 228. +_Wordsworth, Poems of_, ed. Arnold, 185. + + + +THE END. + +PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Matthew Arnold, by George Saintsbury + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MATTHEW ARNOLD *** + +***** This file should be named 16284.txt or 16284.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/2/8/16284/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Carol David, Ben Beasley and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/16284.zip b/16284.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4e3aee --- /dev/null +++ b/16284.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee02c7a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #16284 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16284) |