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Matthew Arnold as a social and religious reformer, and his influence as reflected mainly in periodical… Robbins, William 1934

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MATTHEW ARNOLD AS A SOCIAL AND RELIGIOUS REFORMER. AND HIS INFLUENCE AS REFLECTED MAINLY IN.PERIODICAL LITERATURE  BY  WILLIAM ROBBINS  AN ESSAY SUBMITTED FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS IN THE DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE.  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA  APRIL, 1934.  TABLE OE CONTENTS.  INTRODUCTION. CHAPTERS. (1)  "A CRITICISM OF LIFE" ,  P.  I.  (2.)  CULTURE AND THE STATE,  P.  29.  (3)  RELIGION.  P.  74.  CONCLUSION.  P. 104,  BIBLIOGRAPHY.  L i s t of E r r a t a . p.  18. For " s i e c l e " read " s i e c l e " .  p.  34. For "nonconformists" and "materialists" read "nonconformist" and " m a t e r i a l i s t " .  p.  60. For "insight of" read "insight into".  p.  67. For "affections" read " a f f e c t i o n " .  p.  78. For "uncomprising" read "uncompromising".  p. 108. For "their minds" read " i t s mind".  INTRODUCTION  The word V i c t o r i a n , as an adjective applied to poetry, r e l i g i o n and morals, i s beginning to lose the potent aroma of scorn attached to i t by an exuberant pre-war generation, i n dulging i n a few cautious and d e l i c i o u s l y wicked experiments with the new freedom, and a d i s i l l u s i o n e d post-war generation which professes to f i n d lace and lavender rather nauseating. The reasons f o r both the attitude and the change are not d i f f i c u l t to seek.  There was,  a f t e r a l l , to the twentieth century  s p i r i t s , something a l i t t l e unreal i n the apparently unbroken prosperity and domestic  f e l i c i t y of V i c t o r i a n England.  The  nineteenth century, f o r most of us, has been synonymous with I n d u s t r i a l expansion on the one hand, from "Spinning Jenny" to "Puffing B i l l y " , and on the other an emotional serenity which interpreted passion i n terms of s l i p p e r s , a hearth, and a family of ten.  Such have been, broadly speaking, the  connota-  tions of the word V i c t o r i a n to the present generation, a legacy from the questing souls who were hurled into the Great War  be-  fore they had time to establish the l i v e s of t h e i r fathers i n a true perspective. We are beginning, I think, to take a more impersonal  and objective attitude to the nineteenth  century, and to our  surprise we f i n d ordinary spectacles to be d i s t i n c t l y to opera glasses.  superior  I t comes as something of a shock to appreci-  ate the fact that our grandfathers  were human - that men and  women i n V i c t o r i a ' s day were troubled by fears, doubts and unc e r t a i n i t i e s , and were susceptible to the g r i e f s and ecstasies which move us.  This reaction towards an attitude of sympathy  and understanding i s explained by Mr. Hugh K i n g s m i l l .  No one,  he declares, could be as witty at the expense of the V i c t o r i a n s as Lytton Strachey, - hence i t becomes necessary to adopt a d i f f e r e n t point of ;:yiew. :  While t h i s can hardly be considered a cogent reason, I agree with Mr. Kingsmill that the nineteenth  century gains im-  measurably i n i n t e r e s t and significance when we destroy the b a r r i e r s erected by convention, and t r y to achieve an understanding of the Victorians reduced to t r u l y human proportions. Such c r i t i c i s m as i s contained  i n Mr. Kingsmill's treatment of  Matthew Arnold, where a t r u t h f u l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n i s repeatedly s a c r i f i c e d i n the i n t e r e s t of the 'bon mot' and the humorous paradox, can never be adequate.  But there i s available a  wealth of biographical and c r i t i c a l material, both impartial and prejudiced, and the idea of V i c t o r i a n remoteness, embalmed i n i t s own sanctimony and s e l f - s u f f i c i e n c y , appears a superf i c i a l judgment i n the l i g h t of a l i t t l e attentive study.  The  ideas and ideals of the age are revealed i n the work of i t s men of l e t t e r s - the o r i t i c a l reactions to these works furnish grounds f o r estimate and comparison.  Such an estimate, i n  what I mast confess at the outset to be a scanty and imperfect fashion, I propose now  to attempt  i n the case of Matthew Ar-  nold* The v a r i a t i o n from time to time, both i n quantity and i n t e n s i t y , of the c r i t i c a l commentaries upon Arnold's work, supplies us with an excellent yardstick with which to measure the degree of h i s popularity and influence at any p a r t i c u l a r period.  A lover of s t a t i s t i c s could compute the f l u c t u a t i o n s  of public i n t e r e s t i n Arnold on the basis of a r e a l l y i n t r i g u ing curve.  His early years, when most of h i s poetry and  lit-  erary c r i t i c i s m was produced, were years spent i n near-obscurity.  By 1869, however, people were becoming aware of h i s exis-  tence, owing c h i e f l y to h i s s o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l essays, and the p u b l i c a t i o n of Culture and Anarchy i n that year brought him into prominence. The gospel of culture excited a good deal of comment, favourable and othei-wise, but a v e r i t a b l e storm of controversy arose with the p u b l i c a t i o n , i n 1873,  of Literature and ijogma.  In f a c t , Arnold's s a l l i e s into the r e l i g i o u s f i e l d , strange as i t may  seem to us, r e a l l y brought him into the l i m e l i g h t of  contemporary notice, and the a r t i c l e s of reviewers ranged i n tone a l l the way from b i t t e r invective to open admiration. Around the turn of the century, however, h i s r e l a t i o n to the epoch as a poet and a man  of l e t t e r s was more t r u l y  understood,  and we f i n d the reviews, p a r t i c u l a r l y a f t e r the p u b l i c a t i o n of Arnold's l e t t e r s i n 1895, revealing a serious attempt at sane and balanced appreciation. Then followed-the period of reac-  t i o n when Arnold, i n common with more popular w r i t e r s , suffered years of comparative neglect.  Since 1922,  the centenary  of h i s b i r t h , there has been a steady r e v i v a l of i n t e r e s t , p a r t i c u l a r l y i n h i s poetry.  It would seem to indicate that  among the appreciative few, f o r Arnold w i l l never be favoured of the majority, he i s at l a s t taking h i s true place i n the realm of English l e t t e r s . An examination of Arnold's s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s ideas and the degree to which they were i m p l i c i t i n h i s e a r l i e r work, together with the c r i t i c a l reactions to h i s writings, i s the purpose of the present essay.  His recently-published corres-  pondence with Glough has not been made use of, although Russ e l l ' s e d i t i o n of Arnold's l e t t e r s , supplemented by the valuable l i n k s contained i n Whitridge s contribution, has been r e r  ferred to l i b e r a l l y .  Then too, the number of p e r i o d i c a l s at  my disposal has been l i m i t e d .  Yet the extracts from the ar-  t i c l e s of reviewers, together with the few quotations from more complete works w i l l , I hope, supply us with a cross-sect i o n of c r i t i c a l opinion adequate f o r my purpose. regard I f e e l impelled to make an observation.  And i n t h i s  To even a casu-  a l reader of the numerous commentaries upon Matthew Arnold and his writings, one fact must appear as s i g n i f i c a n t .  The ar-  t i c l e s may range from utter h o s t i l i t y to b l i n d adulation, some of h i s c r i t i c s may applaud and others may indifferent.  sneer - but few are  CHAPTER I A CRITICISM OF LIFE"  In an essay purporting to deal with Matthew Arnold's s o c i a l and r e l i g i o n s doctrines, and with the reactions thereto, i t would obviously be f u t i l e and misleading to indulge i n a lengthy discussion of h i s merits as a poet.  His fame as a  poet and as a l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s secure, and an adequate treatment of Arnold i n either capacity would require a volume i n itself.  In devoting t h i s f i r s t chapter to a study of Arnold's  e a r l i e r work, then, my purpose i s to trace the embryonic reformer i n the poet, rather than to approach the poet and l i t e r ary  c r i t i c from the aesthetic angle.  Such a study should serve  admirably as a background to aid our understanding of h i s more ephemeral and controversial l i t e r a t u r e , discussed i n the two succeeding chapters.  I f i n the course of t h i s study we f i n d  latent evidence of the c r i t i c a l and reforming tendencies dominating Arnold's l a t e r work, we s h a l l at least have a coherent and unified picture of h i s mental development. So frequently have Arnold's readers sighed their regret over h i s pre-oecupation with s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s reform, so united has been the c r i t i c a l chorus in-favour of h i s purely l i t e r a r y work as against h i s polemical essays, that an i n v e s t i -  ' ' ' 2 gation into the causes of the Arnoldian t r a n s i t i o n should he profitable*  That i t was a regrettable change i s the concensus  of opinion, and the opposite view would be, I f e e l , neither sincere nor capable of defense.  But while the t r a n s i t i o n from  poet to reformer was doubtless unfortunate, i t was,  under the  combined forces of Arnold's character, upbringing and circumstances, an inevitable one.  We know h i s upbringing - he  was  the son of a man who was both a schoolmaster and a zealous reformer.  We know h i s circumstances - he was f o r t h i r t y years  an Inspector of Schools, able to devote to h i s beloved books only the odd hours remaining from the conscientious f u l f i l m e n t of an arduous and exacting task.  There i s l i t t l e point i n  comparing Arnold's l i t e r a r y output with that of other major V i c t o r i a n poets, to the detriment of the former.  They had not,  for the most part, h i s d i s t r a c t i o n s , nor were they under the necessity of earning t h e i r d a i l y bread i n a monotonous occupation.  There i s much more point i n the observation that the  change i n the sphere of Arnold's a c t i v i t y , whether owing to h i s temperament or to the pressure of circumstances, was  inevitable.  We must remember that Arnold never was a popular poet, i n the sense that Tennyson and Browning were or became popular. His f i r s t two volumes of verse, published i n 1849  and  1852,  were p r a c t i c a l l y ignored, and since then, i n spite of the praises of c r i t i c s and fellow-writers, he has remained the poet of the Appreciative Few.  His fame i n h i s own day rested rather  upon h i s s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s essays than upon the more permanent part of h i s writing.  As T r a i l l observed i n 1888,  "the  ' 3 poet  was  unknown t o a l l b u t a v e r y  were  familiar  enough w i t h  and  above  all,  ten  years  earlier^  ence  abroad.  country yet," than  "Matthew A r n o l d  h i s prose, will  critic,  theologian."  had t e s t i f i e d  he c o n t i n u e d ,  future  the l i t e r a r y  the amateur  as the c r i t i c  small fraction  known  thinker than  h i s poetry  i s more  and i t i s t o him and Glough  come who  desire to find  — ,  critic,  vein to h i s i n f l u -  i s more w i d e l y  " t o o u r mind  who  the essayist  I n American  i n similar  and the l i b e r a l  o f those  that  the clearest  i n this as the poet; valuable  t h e men poetic  of the expres-  2 sion the  o f t h e t h o u g h t f u l men prophecy  critical for  i s obvious;  spirit  work  based  of the past,  popularity, but a greater  of h i s  The t r u t h  application  of the  a s i t i s upon a  that  reverence  gives h i s poetry,  significance  than  of  much  not a of the  contemporaries.  Most that  i t i s Arnold's  t o modern l i f e ,  and understanding  greater  of our generation."  lovers of poetry  English letters  suffered  will  agree  a real  with  loss  W.C.  Browne11  when A r n o l d  devoted  h i m s e l f to the cause o f t r a n s f o r m i n g B r i t i s h P h i l i s t i n i s m , and t h a t " h o w e v e r d e l i g h t f u l a n d i n s t r u c t i v e i t may b e , i t h a s a t least  one s e r i o u s d e f e c t  - i t takes  the place  of  something  3 else,  something,  upon  the whole,  useless.  The importance  to  h i s mature  expend  1.  Contemporary  2.  Nation,  3.  Ibid,  better."  of the problems  powers must  have  Review, V o l . 53.  V o l .27.  V o l .29.  P . 274..  P. 2 7 6 .  But regrets are upon which A r n o l d  was  constituted, a perpetual  P. 8 6 8 ,  challenge to a man of a reforming turn of mind. give i n without a struggle, however.  He did not  His l e t t e r s t e s t i f y i n a  dozen places, sometimes rather w i s t f u l l y , to the f a c t that he found purely l i t e r a r y endeavour decidely more congenial than controversy.  Even at the age of t h i r t y - n i n e , when h i s part-  time p o s i t i o n as Professor of Poetry at Oxford saw him involved i n the Homer controversy, he gave voice to h i s fear that the c r i t i c a l bent was robbing him of the f i n e r f r u i t .  "I must  f i n i s h o f f f o r the present my c r i t i c a l writings between t h i s and f o r t y , and give the next ten years earnestly to poetry. i s my l a s t chance.  It  It i s not a bad ten years of one's l i f e f o r  poetry i f one r e s o l u t e l y uses i t , but i t i s a time i n which, i f one does not use i t , one d r i e s up and becomes prosaic a l t o 1 gether."  Again, i n the following year, a f t e r commenting on  the opposition and contradiction he had encountered, he says, "I mean to leave t h i s region altogether and to devote myself to what i s p o s i t i v e and happy, not negative and contentious, i n 2  literature."  But the nature of h i s o f f i c i a l duties, and h i s  eagerness to l i g h t e n the fog of middle-class ignorance and banality, proved too much f o r him.  P a r a l l e l with the slow  hardening of the poetic a r t e r i e s we f i n d the quickening beat of the c r i t i c a l pulse. ter  Again and again he t e l l s h i s mother or s i s -  that he must use h i s pen to prod the lethargic Englishman  into a sense of shame at h i s own shortcomings.  Yet the actual  1.  Russell, G.W.E., Letters of Matthew Arnold, V o l . 1, P.  2.  Ibid, P.  158.  142  5  t r a n s i t i o n , as I have said, was gradual. "One  In 1864 he wrote,  i s from time to time seized and i r r e s i s t i b l y carried along  by a temptation to treat p o l i t i c a l , or r e l i g i o u s , or s o c i a l matters d i r e c t l y ; but after y i e l d i n g to such a temptation I always f e e l myself r e c o i l i n g again, and disposed to touch them, only so f a r as they can be touched through poetry."^" have i t - the temptation was  There  we  i r r e s i s t i b l e , and the r e c o i l be-  came l e s s and l e s s with the years.  Even h i s t r i p s abroad, i n -  stead of stimulating the poetic vein, furnished him with  am-  munition f o r attacking the i n s u l a r i t y of h i s countrymen.  By  the time he was f o r t y , retreat was too d i f f i c u l t .  The receding  pipes of Pan were powerless to compete with the loud and comp e l l i n g chords of the reformer's harp. If Arnold's upbringing and. the circumstances of h i s mature years had been the only factors responsible f o r d i v e r t ing h i s pen, there would be some point i n the general regret. But h i s temperament, perhaps by inheritance, and c e r t a i n l y shaped by environment, was n a t u r a l l y of a reforming and c a l east.  Just as the s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s essayist was  shadowed i n the l i t e r a r y c r i t i c , so the l i t e r a r y c r i t i c foreshadowed i n the poet.  forewas  As early as 1849 he voiced h i s d i s -  s a t i s f a c t i o n with what he considered the p r e v a i l i n g i n poetry.  criti-  tendency  "More and more I f e e l bent against the modern Eng-  l i s h habit (too much encouraged by Wordsworth) of using poetry as a channel f o r thinking aloud, instead of making anything."  1.  Letters, V o l . 1, P.  233.  2.  Whitridge, A., Unpublished l e t t e r s of Matthew Arnold, P. 17.  Arnold  h a d no p a t i e n c e  justification, dependent thought  in  Arnold's  was  suggests,  It  as T.S.  of Arnold's  of a broad  fixed  furnish and  his  application,  the  ideas  greatness  of poetry of this  first  of a l l to r e a l i z e  o f t h e word  "A g r e a t  poet"  of poetic  under  beauty  the  "moral,"  depth  i n h i s  character of  the conditions  I say, to h i s subject, whatever  i t may  to l i f e ,  a n d o n human  of these  f o r himself."  i n other ideas  words,  Bookman, V o l . 72.  2.  Essays  immutabfrom be, o f  life,'  • To a p p l y  ideas  i s to criticize  on  these  life.  But  i s not unlimited, i f true poetic  i s t o be a c h i e v e d .  1.  of  and i t s r e l a  he d e c l a r e d  "receives h i s distinctive  on n a t u r e ,  much  understanding  truth,  w h i c h he h a s a c q u i r e d  range  Eliot  literature.  2  the  implicit  and p o e t i c  'On man,  subjects  definition  some  school  a purely aes  examination  us w i t h  in-  At a l l events,  r a t h e r than  Arnold's  h i s application,  by t h e laws  1  A detailed  is imperative  from  culture." "  moral,  arose  to l i f e  on Wordsworth,  superiority  t h e A r t f o r A r t ' s Sake  r a t h e r than,  to poetic greatness.  essay  can exist  of criticism,  significance , to Arnold,  tion  and p e r f e c t i o n  i s i t s own  basis  of l i f e . '  attitude  a poem  to the moral  doctrine should  Arnold's  that  reaction  the offspring  'a c r i t i c i s m  and  beauty  basis f o rpoetry,  debated  ly  canons  the idea  Perhaps  a direct  h i s conception  thetic as  true  of content.  of  from  that  with  P.  i n Criticism,  Quoting  Voltaire  with  1. 2nd. S e r i e s .  P.  141.  approval,  Arnold, continues;" 'no nation has treated i n poetry moral ideas with more energy and depth than the English nation.* adds:  'There, i t seems to me,  And  i s the great merit of the  he Eng-  • ••1 •  l i s h poets.'"  We might well look dubious at t h i s , bearing  i n mind the weighty didacticism and philosophy i n verse gathering dust on l i b r a r y shelves.  now  But "moral," to Arnold,  doss not s i g n i f y didacticism, nor i s i t even synonymous with ethics.  When Wordsworth s verse, as i t so often does, becomes r  merely a vehicle f o r h i s philosophy, Arnold unhesitatingly condemns i t as a 'tissue of verbiage'.  Wherein, then, does'  Wordsworth's p o e t i c a l superiority consist?  Arnold answers h i s  own question by a quotation from Wordsworth, showing us i n concise form the "moral ideas" i m p l i c i t i n great poetry, the a p p l i c a t i o n of which constitutes a ' c r i t i c i s m of l i f e . ' '  The  poet's song, says Matthew, must consist 'Of truth, of grandeur, beauty, love and hope* And melancholy fear subdued by f a i t h , Of blessed consolations i n d i s t r e s s , Of moral strength and i n t e l l e c t u a l power, Of joy i n widest commonalty spread' To deal powerfully with such ideas, said Arnold, i s to deal with l i f e  i n conformance with the laws of poetic beauty and  poetic t r u t h . The scope given by Arnold to the word "moral" i s more r e a d i l y understood when we examine h i s quotations. us Keats' 'Forever w i l t thou love, and she be f a i r , '  1.  assays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t . P.  141  He gives  and Shakespeare's '•We are such stuff As dreams are made on, andour l i t t l e ~ l i f e Is rounded with a sleep.' How  here we have an aesthetic conception of the permanence of  beauty, and a whole philosophy of l i f e d i s t i l l e d from three immortal l i n e s , yet to Arnold both are moral ideas.  Clearly,  before judgment can be passed upon Arnold's o r i t i c a l d i c t a , the reader must abandon c e r t a i n d e f i n i t i o n s and prepossessions The term "moral" must be stretched u n t i l i t becomes synonymous •with l i f e , as we see from the following lengthy but comprehensive statement of the Arnoldian creed. therefore, to hold f a s t to t h i s : c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ;  " I t i s important,.,  that poetry i s at bottom a  that the greatness of a poet l i e s i n h i s  powerful and b e a u t i f u l application of ideas to l i f e , - to the question:  How to l i v e .  Morals are often treated i n a narrow  and f a l s e fashion; they are bound up with systems of thought and b e l i e f which have had t h e i r day; they are f a l l e n into the hands of pedants and professional dealers; they grow tiresome to  some of us.  We f i n d a t t r a c t i o n , at times, even i n a poetry  of revolt against them..*.  Or we f i n d attractions i n a poetry  i n d i f f e r e n t to them; i n a poetry where the contents may they w i l l , but where the form i s studied and exquisite.  be what We  de-  lude ourselves i n either case; and the best cure f o r our delusion i s to l e t our minds rest upon that great and inexhaustible word l i f e , u n t i l we l e a r n to enter into i t s meaning.  A poetry  of r e v o l t against moral ideas i s a poetry of revolt against l i f e ; a poetry of indifference towards moral ideas i s a poetry  of  • .1 indifference towards l i f e . " Such, an emphasis upon moral ideas, even when we r e -  a l i z e the peculiar s i g n i f i c a n c e , to Arnold, of the term "mora l " , would seem to indicate an overwhelming importance a t tached to content i n poetry. phrase,  The values i m p l i c i t i n h i s  'a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' , are however more f u l l y devel-  oped i n another passage.  "Truth and seriousness of substance  and matter, f e l i c i t y and p e r f e c t i o n of d i c t i o n and manner, as these are exhibited i n the best poets, are what constitute a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e made i n conformity with the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty; and i t i s by knowing and f e e l i n g the work of those poets, that we learn to recognize the f u l f i l . 2  ment and. non-fulfilment of such conditions."  This i s Ar-  nold's c r i t e r i o n of true excellence, t h i s perfect and consummate blend of matter and manner.  "The moment, however, that  we leave the small band of the very best poets, the true c l a s s i c s , and deal with poets of the next rank, we s h a l l f i n d that perfeet truth and seriousness of matter, i n close a l l i a n c e with perfect truth and f e l i c i t y of manner, i s the rule no . 3 longer."  Those who were not capable of achieving t h i s per-  f e c t unity might write poetry, and b e a u t i f u l poetry, but i t would not be poetry of the highest order. On the bases of these c r i t e r i a Arnold made h i s judg1.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t . P. 143.  2.  Ibid.  3.  Ibid.  P. 187.  ments, using as models the great writers whose ' c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' he f e l t to he adequate.  Homer, Sophocles, Dante, Shake-  speare, M i l t o n - these were men who had displayed i n t h e i r poetry the perfect fusion of high seriousness and f e l i c i t o u s d i c t i o n and s t y l e .  Consequently t h e i r poems are moral and  a r t i s t i c wholes(using moral i n Arnold's broad sense)and the weaknesses of poets whose work i s l e s s 'adequate' become; apparent by comparison.  This i s Arnold's 'touchstone' system,  where he o f f e r s powerful l i n e s from the great poets as beacons to  guide the searcher after poetic t r u t h and poetie beauty.  Yet however happy h i s examples may be, and they are happy, there are weaknesses.  Anyone can select an effective and beau-  t i f u l passage from Shakespeare, put i t beside a piece of rhet o r i c a l verbiage from Byron, and f e e l that the f i r s t i s i n f i n i t e l y superior as 'a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e * . .  Anyone, that  i s , who has a c e r t a i n amount of taste and erudition. does that prove?  selection  But what  Single l i n e s and passages can be chosen from  Byron, as Arnold himself shows i n one place, which f o r power of thought and beauty of d i c t i o n cannot be surpassed.  The  superiority of the greater poet over the l e s s e r can only be understood by comprehending t h e i r achievements as a r t i s t i c wholes, and while Arnold's synthetic rather than analytio c r i t icism recognizes t h i s truth, h i s 'touchstones' are apt to be misleading.  I t should be p r o f i t a b l e , at t h i s point, to d i s -  cuss some of Arnold's verdicts, with the reasons he submits for  his classifications. Of a l l the poets who  contributed to the glorious r e -  v i v a l of the early nineteenth century, Arnold ranked Byron and Wordsworth highest, and of these two, he considered Wordsworth the one who  r e a l l y could claim to approach the true c l a s s i c s .  This elevation of Wordsworth, i n spite of h i s 'poetio baggage', was  owing to Arnold's f e e l i n g f o r subtle degrees of excellence  i n poetry - not to a f e e l i n g that the contemporaries of Wordsworth were anything but genuine poets of a very high order. Keats, with a l l h i s splendid p o e t i c a l g i f t , died too soon to produce r e a l l y mature work, while Shelley, i n Arnold's opinio^, was  too often •pinnacled dim i n the intense inane'.  After com-  menting on the charm and l o v e l i n e s s of Shelley's poetry, noId observed:  Ar»  "But a l l the personal charm of Shelley cannot  hinder us from at l a s t discovering i n h i s poetry the incurable want, i n general, of a sound subject matter, and the incurable 1  f a u l t , i n consequence, of unsubstantiality."  He f e l t that  Shelley's essays and l e t t e r s would appeal more to p o s t e r i t y than h i s poems, a verdict rather at odds with Arnold's soundness.  usual  But then he appeared to have l i t t l e sympathy with  Shelley i n any case.  Byron, i n spite of h i s slovenliness and  carelessness of workmanship, and h i s frequent abuse of taste, Arnold considered to possess the s i n c e r i t y and strength necessary to give h i s best work a permanent s i g n i f i c a n c e .  His  'cri-  t i c i s m of l i f e * , i n other words, Arnold found to be more adequate - where Shelley l o s t himself i n a vague idealism, and Keats worshipped at the shrine of sensuous beauty, Byron ap1.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t . P.  165.  plied  h i s ideas to the main stream of modern l i f e .  Yet Words-  worth was superior to a l l the others i n one important thing, he d i d sometimes achieve the perfect fusion of noble content and f e l i c i t o u s d i c t i o n c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the t r u l y great. "Whenever we meet with the successful balance, i n Wordsworth, of profound truth of subject with profound truth of execution, '1 • he i s unique."  i n such poems as "The Highland Reaper" and  "Michael", such a balance had been achieved, said Arnold, consequently the c r i t i c i s m of l i f e  submitted was profoundly true,  and e n t i t l e d the poet to a place more exalted than that occupied by h i s l e s s perfect fellows. I have said that Arnold found Byron's power to consist i n h i s a p p l i c a t i o n of ideas to the main stream of modern l i f e . Without t h i s v i t a l p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n the problems that confront mankind, no poet i s r e a l l y s a t i s f y i n g the high o f f i c e to which destiny has c a l l e d him. not  To speak of modern l i f e , however, was  with Arnold to mean contemporary  were great because they were modern.  tendencies.  The ancients  An ardent c l a s s i c i s t , by  t r a i n i n g and environment, Arnold was never more at home than i n the  company of Eindar and Sophocles, but i t was the 'modern  element' i n c l a s s i c a l work that constituted i t s r e a l greatness. Ancient Athens, he maintained, was incomparably closer to us than medieval Christendom, simply because they applied ideas powerfully and e f f e c t i v e l y to l i f e .  Even Elizabethan England  he considered more remote from us than Periclean Greece, since, 1.  Essays' i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. G i t . P. 159.  while the 'national glow of l i f e  1  produced a vigorous and glor  ious l i t e r a t u r e , the philosophy and general mental outlook of the Greeks was more t r u l y modern than that of the Elizabe•1 thans.  "Modern", then, consisted i n an attitude of mind,  rather than a chronological d i v i s i o n .  Hence poetry which i s  remote from l i f e , no matter how b e a u t i f u l , how  consummately  p o e t i c a l i t may be, could never, i n Arnold's estimation, cont a i n an adequate c r i t i c i s m of l i f e , and hence could never achieve true poetic greatness.  Yet to apply ideas i s not i n  i t s e l f s u f f i c i e n t either - such a philosophy of l i f e as we f i n d i n the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam, no matter how  exquisitely  dressed, Arnold condemned on the grounds that i t constituted a revolt against the moral ideas which are i m p l i c i t i n l i f e . Arnold's high conception of the function of poetry, and i t s r e l a t i o n to l i f e , i s most emphatically stated i n h i s essay, The Study of Poetry.  "We  should conceive of poetry  worthily, and more highly than i t has been the custom to conceive of i t .  We should conceive of i t as capable of higher  uses, and c a l l e d to higher d e s t i n i e s , than those which i n gene r a l men have assigned to i t h i t h e r t o .  More and more mankind  w i l l have to turn to poetry to interpret l i f e f o r us, to console us, to sustain us."  Here i s the value and significance  of poetry as a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e .  "But," Arnold goes on, "the  consolation and stay w i l l be of power i n proportion to the 1.  "On the Modern Element i n L i t e r a t u r e " . azine , 1868. V o l . 19. P. 304.  2.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t . P. 2.  Macmillan's Mag-  power of the c r i t i c i s m of l i f e .  And the c r i t i c i s m of l i f e  be of power i n proportion as the poetry conveying  will  i t i s excel-  lent rather than i n f e r i o r , sound rather than unsound or h a l f 1  sound, true rather than untrue or h a l f - t r u e . "  '  Again we see  Arnold c a l l i n g f o r the exercise of d i s c r i m i n a t i o n and taste; for  the recognition of degrees of excellence, of moral sound-  ness, i n short, of the adequacy of the poet's a p p l i c a t i o n of ideas to l i f e .  This i s the i n s t i n c t , f o r such c r i t i c i s m as  Arnold's obviously works by i n t u i t i o n rather than by s c i e n t i f i c deduction, that leads Arnold to place Burns' "Tarn Glen" above Shelley's "Prometheus Unbound' ; and that leads him to consider 1  Chaucer, i n spite of the l a t t e r ' s benignity and largeness of View, as something i n f e r i o r to Homer and Dante through h i s lack of a consistent high seriousness.  To a t t a i n any force,  i n t u i t i v e c r i t i c i s m such as t h i s must n e c e s s a r i l y be d e l i v e r e d ex cathedra, and the v a l i d i t y of many of Arnold's judgments can be, and frequently has been, questioned.  The personal  element, which he himself deprecated, must have been operating strongly when he ranked Maurice de Guerin with Keats, to take only one instance.  Yet so many of h i s studies embody such  profound truths, and such i l l u m i n a t i n g h a l f - t r u t h s , that they cannot help, but throw a f r e s h and i n s t r u c t i v e , i f sometimes provocative l i g h t upon any subject he touched. To return to Arnold's conception of the high destiny of poets and t h e i r poetry, which makes him set such l o f t y and 1.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t .  p . 5.  'moral  1  standards of excellence, we might w e l l ask the ques-  t i o n , - what, a c t u a l l y , does t h i s high destiny involve?  Every  thing, Arnold would reply, which commands the best and most profound thoughts of mankind, - r e l i g i o n , philosophy, science. "There i s not a creed which i s not shaken, not an accredited dogma which i s not shown to be questionable, not a received t r a d i t i o n which does not threaten to dissolve.  Qui* r e l i g i o n  has materialised i t s e l f i n the f a c t , i n the supposed f a c t ; i t has attached i t s emotion to the f a c t , and now ing i t .  the fact i s f a i l  But f o r poetry the idea i s everything; the rest i s a  world of i l l u s i o n , of divine i l l u s i o n .  Poetry attaches i t s  emotion to the idea; the idea i s the f a c t .  The strongest part  of our r e l i g i o n today i s i t s unconscious poetry."  Here, a l -  most f u l l y ^.developed,.is the theme Arnold was to expand i n h i s r e l i g i o u s essays, i n Literature and Dogma, where a l i t e r a r y interpretation of the Bible i s seen as the only salvation of a f a i t h brought into d i s c r e d i t by the h a i r - s p l i t t i n g metaphysics of theologians.  "Without poetry," Arnold continues, "our  sci-  ence w i l l appear incomplete; and most of what now passes with E us f o r r e l i g i o n and philosophy w i l l be replaced by poetry." The prophecy has not been f u l f i l l e d - philosophy, and i n some ways r e l i g i o n , s t i l l engage the thoughts of men  as abstract  subjects of debate, while seienee seems to have achieved her miraculous growth without the i n s p i r a t i o n or a i d of poetry. 1.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m , Op. C i t . P.  E.  Ibid.  P. 2 .  1.  16 Bat there i s a growing f e e l i n g that we have pushed our worship of s c i e n t i f i c deduction too f a r , that there i s an emotional and s p i r i t u a l side of us which cannot he interpreted i n f a c t u a l terms*  And Shakespeare, i n three unforgettable l i n e s , can  give a happier and more consummate expression to our sense of l i f e ' s ultimate mystery than can be found i n pages of p h i l o sophical or theological d i s q u i s i t i o n . Arnold's i d e a l of poetry and i t s higher d e s t i n i e s as a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e , - interpreting l i f e f o r as, consoling us, sustaining as, n a t u r a l l y implied a corresponding power i n the poet as a c r i t i c of l i f e .  I f he i s a true poet, he must  employ h i s genius i n a contemplation of l i f e , i n interpreting the most profound moral and i n t e l l e c t u a l truths f o r h i s f e l low-men.  He i s the high p r i e s t of Nature, and he betrays h i s  trust i f he does not aid man  i n the search f o r h i s own  soul,  the slow and p a i n f u l struggle towards p e r f e c t i o n .  Arnold came  to f e e l that 'the proper study of mankind i s man',  and v/hether  grave or gay, despairing or s a t i r i c a l , t h i s i s the f e e l i n g that i s paramount i n a l l h i s work.  Nature i s rather an accessory,  i n h i s poetry, than a theme i n h e r s e l f .  His idea of the poet's  high function i s expressed i n h i s poem, "Resignation". "The Eoet, to whose mighty heart Heaven doth a quicker pulse impart, Subdues that energy to scan Not h i s own course, but that of Man." Arnold's sense of the poetic power and v i s i o n , and the i n e v i t able melancholy est  lines.  they must bring, gave r i s e to some of h i s f i n -  "Leaned on h i s gate, he gazes; tears Are i n h i s eyes, and i n h i s ears The murmur of a thousand years: Before him he sees l i f e u n r o l l , A p l a c i d and continuous whole; That general L i f e , which does not ceasej Whose secret i s not joy, hut peace; That L i f e , whose dumb wish i s not miss*d If b i r t h proceeds, i f things subsist; The L i f e of plants^ and stones, and r a i n : The L i f e he craves; i f not i n vain Fate gave, what Chance s h a l l not controul, His sad l u c i d i t y . o f soul," When we turn to a consideration of Arnold's own  poet-  ry, we must admit that he frequently f a l l s short of h i s own c r i t i c a l dicta.  He i s sometimes g u i l t y of j a r r i n g dissonances;  i n places h i s conscious s t r i v i n g f o r form makes i t obtrusive; and i n other verses h i s own c r i t i c i s m and philosophy so weight down the form that I t becomes l i t t l e more than heightened prose Seldom do the c r i t i c and the man blend p e r f e c t l y into the poet, although when they do the r e s u l t i s exquisite.  But I am not  concerned here with a c r i t i c a l , .estimate of Arnold as an a r t i s t . It i s rather my purpose to see wherein Arnold's poetry i s a ' c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' , and here i t must be confessed that he prac. tised what he preached.  His poems are f u l l of ideas, and,  save  i n the purely narrative pieces, the r e f l e c t i o n s are on the ment a l and s p i r i t u a l problems, both ephemeral and eternal, confronting mankind.  A c r i t i c i s m of l i f e h i s poetry c e r t a i n l y i s ,  but a c r i t i c i s m on the whole negative and pessimistic.  While  his delight i n the company of the ancients impelled him to ret i r e to A t t i c a f o r h i s themes, and while he did i n a few poems, as i n '!.The Strayed Reveller" , a t t a i n to an almost c l a s s i c a l obj e c t i v i t y , Arnold could not put away the world.  He was by no  means immune to the 'mal de s i e c l e ' a f f l i c t i n g the young men of  the period, and h i s poetic moods are almost  invariably  those of regret and yearning, deepening at times into b i t t e r ness and pessimism, his  The  'moderate and sustained optimism' of  l a t e r years i s seldom found i n h i s verse.  His tragedy, as  the l e t t e r s revealed a few pages e a r l i e r , i s that with one side of h i s mind he longs f o r the cool shade of the  Parthenon,  while the other i s repelled yet fascinated by the heat and hunger of modern l i f e , "Two desires toss about The poet's f e v e r i s h blood, Ones drives him to the world without And one to solitude." The desire f o r solitude i s powerless to cope with the other, and so he turns reluctant' eyes upon  • ~  " t h i s strange disease of modern l i f e , With i t s sick hurry, i t s divided aims, Its heads o'ertax'd, i t s palsied hearts."  What chance i s there i n a l l t h i s dust and d i s t r a c t i o n f o r soulrestoring thought, f o r the calm and profound r e f l e c t i o n s which alone can save man  from himself?  We "see a l l sights from Pole to Pole, And glance, and nod, and bustle by, And never once possess our soul Before we die." We move i n ruts, and those few of us who  dare to leave the herd  to breathe a f i n e r , rarer atmosphere pay the penalty.  In "A  Summer Night" Arnold shows us the i n d i v i d u a l i s t who has l e f t the "brazen prison" of h i s fellows, f i n a l l y driven mad by misunderstanding and ignorant persecution.  He c r i e s b i t t e r l y ,  "Is there no l i f e , but these alone? Madman or slave, must man be one?"  Even Nature has no power to soothe him, f o r "Through the hum of torrent lone, And brooding mountain bee, There sobs I know not what ground tone Of human agony," Cynically Arnold asks of a preacher f r i e n d , - "In harmony with Nature?  Restless f o o l . "  I t i s impossible.  "Nature and man can never be f a s t f r i e n d s . Fool, i f thou canst not pass her, rest her slave I" Well, the reader may remonstrate, what i f t h i s l i f e i s f u t i l e , and Nature remote and unsympathetic.  Have we not s t i l l our  f a i t h i n God, our hope of a better l i f e ? "FoolsJ that i n man s b r i e f term He cannot a l l things view, Affords no grounds to a f f i r m That there are Gods who do: Nor does being weary prove that he has where to r e s t , " 1  This i s , of course, the attitude of the young  intel-  l e c t u a l who has l o s t f a i t h i n a personal Deity, and i n Nature as a manifestation of that Deity, and the l a s t quotation, coming from the c y n i c a l and world-weary Empedocles, may be a l i t t l e dubious as Arnold's own philosophy.  But the idea occurs  too frequently i n Arnold's early and more pessimistic verse to make us doubt i t s s i n c e r i t y .  The new s c i e n t i f i c learning has  destroyed the o l d f a i t h , and has as yet offered no substitute./ The human race i s l e f t "Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born." There i_s a greater Power than man, declared Arnold, but how can we postulate humanity, much less a beneficent i n t e r e s t , i n that Power?  Is i t not rather a b l i n d , impartial Force?  20 "We, i n some unknown Power's employ, Move on a rigorous l i n e : Can neither, when we w i l l , enjoy; Hor, when we w i l l , resign." Thus f a r Arnold's attitude to l i f e seems to be  one  of unrelieved gloom.  But the gentle note of regret creeps i n -  to h i s contemplation  of human l i f e and i t s i n s t a b i l i t y , and h i s  sense of l o s s at the decay of the old b e l i e f s i s poignantly phrased i n "Dover Beach". "The Sea of F a i t h Was once, too, at the f u l l , and round earth's shore My l i k e the f o l d s of a bright g i r d l e f u r l ' d . But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world." The s t r a i n i s s t i l l mournful, but one l i n e , incongruous with the rest of the poem, introduces a note of hope, "Ah, love, l e t us be true To one anotherJ" Here, then, i s a note of comfort and strength,,, and the c r i t i cism of l i f e assumes a more p o s i t i v e and happy aspect.  The  poet has r e a l i z e d that h i s s p i r i t u a l roots, to obtain nourishment, must strike deep into the s o i l of common humanity and human a f f e c t i o n .  The  'stupefying power' of l i f e ' s monotonous  and t r i v i a l routine numbs our soul, he mourns i n "The Buried ~ Life".  But " a beloved hand i s l a i d i n ours", and by the car-  essing tones of a dear voice, "A bolt i s shot back somewhere i n our breast, ,. And a l o s t pulse of f e e l i n g s t i r s again: A man becomes aware of h i s l i f e ' s flow And hears i t s winding murmur, and he sees The meadows where i t g l i d e s , the sun, the breeze."  And personal a f f e c t i o n s of an intimate kind are not the onlysaviours.  Courage, a larger f a i t h i n humanity as a whole, a  f a i t h i n the noble s p i r i t s which have aided mankind to progress - l e t these be our props. "Yet now, when boldest w i l l s give-place,, When Fate and Circumstance are strong, And i n t h e i r rush the human race Are swept, l i k e huddling sheep, along: Those sterner s p i r i t s l e t me p r i z e , Who, through the tendenee of the whole They l e s s than us might recognize, Kept, more than us, t h e i r strength of soul." Here i s the germ of the c u l t u r a l crusade Arnold was l a t e r to conduct - h i s advice to men  to study the 'best that has been  thought and said i n the world' and so f o r t i f y themselves to withstand the bewildering shocks of c i v i l i z a t i o n and progress. True progress i s impossible without the universal culture and mental serenity that, comes from a widespread f a m i l i a r i t y with the work of the noblest minds - t h i s i s the thesis l a t e r bodied i n h i s "gospel of culture",  em-  i n "Dover Beach" we have  seen Arnold turn to human love as a s p i r i t u a l anchor - l a t e r he t r i e s to establish r e l i g i o n on such a v e r i f i a b l e  experience  of humanity, rather than upon an archaic system of dogmatic speculation.  From the rather Byronic pessimism of the young  i n t e l l e c t u a l , Arnold's c r i t i c i s m of l i f e gradually changes, as we s h a l l see, to the i n t e l l i g e n t and moderate, though at times heart-weary optimism of the reformer. Before leaving Arnold's poetry, i t might be  signifi-  cant to observe h i s peculiar f e l i c i t y i n elegaic verse.  It  has been said of Arnold that he was only sincere i n the minor  moods of regret and yearning, and that he seemed happiest when standing by an open grave.  Both c r i t i c i s m s contain a large  measure of truth - the r e a l Matthew Arnold i s most discerni b l e , and withal most d e l i g h t f u l , i n h i s elegaie verse.  His  longing f o r the old s p i r i t u a l quiet, h i s distaste f o r modern l i f e , and the happy manner i n which he can weave Mature into the pattern of h i s poetry, as a background f o r h i s r e f l e c t i o n s on l i f e , - a l l these t r a i t s achieve more perfect expression i n his  elegies than i n any other section of h i s verse.  l a r l y i s t h i s true of "The  Particu-  Scholar-Gipsy" and "Thyrsis".  And  i n one of h i s elegies at l e a s t , "Rugby Chapel", we catch a glimpse of the mature Arnold.  Musing upon h i s father's strong  character and zeal f o r reform, he f e e l s impelled to express his to  admiration f o r the great souls who have devoted themselves aiding struggling humanity, although he does not add the  rather b i t t e r truth that l a t e r took some of the joy out of h i s own crusading, the discouraging f a c t that the most of humanity, with obstinate stupidity, seem to prefer struggling to beingaided.  Instead, he p i c t u r e s mankind, "a feeble, wavering-  l i n e , " marching on to i t s goal through barren wastes. win through, perish.  A few  scarred and storm-beaten, but'the weaker vessels  In every age, however, there are strong souls l i k e Dr.  Arnold, who  refuse to win through alone, who  weak and d i s p i r i t e d . "Then, i n such hour of need Of your f a i n t i n g , d i s p i r i t e d race, Ye, l i k e angels, appear, Radiant with ardour divinel. Beacons of hope, ye appear."  burn to help the  23 Written i n 1857,  when Arnold's creative vein was being  sab-  merged by the c r i t i c a l , the poem would seem to promise at l e a s t the p o t e n t i a l reformer, latent i n Matthew's strong sense of kinship with and reverence f o r Dr. Turning  Arnold.  to the reviewers, we f i n d l i t t l e  attempt to  analyze the d e f i n i t i o n of poetry as a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' .  To  s  a l l who  consider that art and morals should be divorced  the  d e f i n i t i o n i s of course abhorrent, as L e s l i e Stephen remarked i n 1893."*"  To most other c r i t i c s , the idea must have been d i s -  arming i n i t s very s i m p l i c i t y .  Capable of many interpretations,  i t has yet, when viewed from one angle, a l l the homely truth of a near-platitude.  But the fact that h i s c r i t i c i s m i s synthetic  rather than a n a l y t i c , i n t u i t i v e rather than a matter of reasoning,  gave r e a l opportunities to more logical-minded  critics.  Stephen finds him too i n c l i n e d to treat h i s i n t u i t i o n s as be1 ing "equivalent to s c i e n t i f i c and measurable statements." Another c r i t i c w r i t i n g i n the Edinburgh Review of 1869  allows '2  Arnold to be "a consummate master of l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m , " complains that he i s lacking i n system, and,  but  i n spite of h i s  cleverness and o r i g i n a l i t y , oblivious to some of the plainest inferences.  The  same c r i t i c i s quite exasperated with some of  Arnold's pet phrases, and f i n d s that h i s indolence  in failing  properly to explain such terms as ''the grand style* constitutes a f a i l i n g that mars even h i s most perfect essays. 1.  L i v i n g Age.  Yol. 200.  2.  Edinburgh Review.  P.  Y o l . 129.  90. P.  486.  This ten-  dency to regard h i s i n t u i t i o n s as exact l i t e r a r y measurements, with a consequent number of a r b i t r a r y and unsupported statements, i s the weakness i n Arnold the c r i t i c upon which h i s reviewers fastened.  It has i t s roots, I think, i n two  aspects  of Arnold's c r i t i c a l thought - he i s a poet turned c r i t i c , or, i f one l i k e s , a p o e t - c r i t i c ; and secondly, i n the words of A l fred Austin, "he began to c r i t i c i z e  l i f e before he had lived."" " 1  Yet a l l of h i s reviewers, while disagreeing with many of h i s i n t u i t i v e findings, unite i n awarding him c r i t i c a l eminence. Stephen is. constrained to admit that "he excels i n the art of g i v i n g delicate p o r t r a i t s of l i t e r a r y leaders", while a writer i n the Westminster Review of 1863 f i n d s Arnold to be. "the very best c r i t i c we possess."  The uniqueness of h i s p o s i t i o n as a  c r i t i c i s pointed out by J . J . R e i l l y as l a t e as 1925.  "Where  Carlyle and Ruskin had been a moral stimulus, Matthew Arnold was an i n t e l l e c t u a l one, but with moral implications as decisive  as t h e i r s . "  This i s treating c r i t i c i s m i n i t s large sense  of course, but the p e c u l i a r combination  of i n t e l l e c t u a l and  moral teaching i m p l i c i t i n Arnold's work may  be what T.S.  Eliot  has i n mind when he f i n d s Arnold to be a more sympathetic ,writer to t h i s generation than,either Carlyle or Ruskin.  At a l l  events, the general concensus of opinion seems to substantiate  1.  National Review.  2.  Westminster Review,  3.  R e i l l y , J . J . , Newman as a Man  4.  Bookman.  V o l . 72.  VOL  26.  -P. 471.  v o l . 80.  P. 1.  P.  468.  of L e t t e r s . 1925.  p.  310.  Morley's fine t r i b u t e :  "As c r i t i c  i n an epoch that stood i n  need of c r i t i c i s m i n i t s largest sense, Arnold may . . .1" incomparable among Englishmen of h i s day."  be c a l l e d .  ;  The  ' c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' i n Arnold's own poetry, how-  ever, met with harsher and more decided rebuke from some of his reviewers.  Taken as a whole, says a reviewer i n the Edin-  burgh Review of 1888, Arnold's poems "appear a sandheap of s h i f t i n g judgments, of trembling opinions, of crumbling 2 creeds."  .  ••-  ' '  His attitude of despairing indifference lends  mo-  notony to h i s early work, and "the i r r e s o l u t i o n and i n f i r m i t y of the teaching would alone explain the c h i l l i n g reception of 2 the f i r s t two volumes."  In moral questions he neglects the  heart to pamper the i n t e l l e c t , save i n such poems as "Dover Beach", and the very c a t h o l i c i t y of outlook which enables him to appreciate a Heine and a de Guerin robs him of force.  "The  strength and weakness of h i s i n t e l l e c t thus combined to deny him the glow of conviction. 2 dour."  He was the martyr of h i s own  can-  Yet these very weaknesses and i r r e s o l u t i o n s mirror  the mind of the times, as the c r i t i c admits, and comprise sense a c r i t i c i s m of l i f e .  in a  " I t i s as the representative of the  highest type of agnosticism, as an embodiment of the honesty> narrowness and discontent of modern doubt, that Arnold's mind 2 and character arrest attention." The p o s i t i v e side of Arnold's poetry as a c r i t i c i s m of 1.  Morley, John, Recollections. P. 127.  Maemillans, 1917.  2.  Edinburgh Review.  P.  Vol. 168.  337.  Yol. 1,  l i f e i s , however, adduced by the genial c r i t i c - Augustine B i r r e l l , who  describes Arnold as the most useful poet of the age, 1  f u l l of thought and consolation.  The very predominance of  thought over form gives him t h i s power.  L e s l i e Stephen pays  Arnold a s i m i l a r t r i b u t e when he says that Arnold may be i n f e r i o r to Tennyson and Browning, but that " h i s poetry has, i n an eminent degree, the quality - i f not inevitableness - of adhesiveness."  Arnold himself f e l t that he had something to  o f f e r the reader who ry  sought an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of l i f e i n poet-  - something that the other poets, with a l l t h e i r g i f t s , did  not convey. cal  " I t might be f a i r l y urged that I have l e s s p o e t i -  sentiment than Tennyson, and l e s s i n t e l l e c t u a l vigour and  abundance than Browning; yet, because I have perhaps more of a f u s i o n of the two than either of them, and have more regularly applied that fusion to the main l i n e of modern development, I 3 am l i k e l y enough to have my turn, as they have had t h e i r s . " This i s , I f e e l , the soundest own poetry.  judgment made by Arnold on h i s  His readers may never have been as numerous or as  voluble as the admirers of the other two poets, but they have been f a i t h f u l .  The casual reader w i l l f i n d h i s poetry cold,  but the Arnoldian w i l l agree with T r a i l l that Arnold's poetry " i s not cold to the c u l t i v a t e d taste any more than the marbles 1.  Scribner's Magazine.  2.  L i v i n g Age.  3.  Letters.  V o l . 200.  Y o l . 2.  Y o l . 4. P. 90.  P. 9.  P.  537.  of Phidias are c o l d . " "  Both h i s defects and h i s high concep-  t i o n of the purpose o f poetry m i l i t a t e d against popularity.  He  lacks i n passion, h i s ear f o r music and h i s dramatic sense are imperfeet, and hence he can never appeal to the average reader, to the man who would rather f e e l than think.  Poetry was to Ar-  nold a genuine medium f o r the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of l i f e i t s e l f the  beauty of the thought conveyed mattered more than the beau-  ty ®f rhyme or the beauty of word-pictures.- He dwelt, as Frederic Harrison said, i n a "higher philosophic aether" than h i s contemporaries.  In t h i s connection Harrison uttered a comment  which I f e e l to be s i n g u l a r l y apt.  A f t e r comparing Arnold  with Theognis, a comparison of which Arnold himself had f e l t the  force, Harrison observed:  "As a poet, Arnold belongs to an  order very rare with us, i n which Greece was singularly r i c h , the  order of gnomic poets, who condensed  i n metrical aphorisms  t h e i r thoughts on human destiny and the moral problems of .  life."  2'  This i s the type of poet i n whom we are most l i k e l y  to f i n d the i n c i p i e n t c r i t i c and reformer. Enough has been said, I think, to show the d e f i n i t e l y c r i t i c a l bent that coloured a l l of Arnold's thought, and to est a b l i s h the faet that the s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s essayist was a natural development  from the poet and l i t e r a r y c r i t i c .  The  natural, inevitable s t i f l i n g of the poetic impulse by the c r i t i c a l i t i s vain to regret - Arnold was merely following the ,'. 1.  Contemporary Review.  2.  nineteenth Century Review.  V o l . 53.  P. 868.  V o l . 39.  P. 433.  dictates of h i s nature.  A c t u a l l y h i s attitude to l i f e and to  l i t e r a t u r e underwent l i t t l e change.  In the poet, the s o c i a l  c r i t i c , the amateur theologian, we hearken to the same Matthew Arnold, though the tone of voice and the manner of address frequently a l t e r . E.G. Hewlett.  "The  may  This basic lack of change i s attested by i r o n i c humour that t h e r e i n ( i . e . i n Arnold's  prose)enlivens h i s gravest mood, and by which he has  achieved  the wSll-nigh impossible feat of making theology an entertaining  study, i s the only mental t r a i t conspicuously absent from  his  poetry."' '  his  s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s studies, and while we may  1  His ' c r i t i c i s m of l i f e ' theory i s i m p l i c i t i n sometimes  f e e l that Arnold regarded l i f e too much as something to be c r i t i c i z e d , and too l i t t l e as something to be l i v e d , we must allow him honesty and consistency i n h i s e f f o r t s to re-make his  fellow-men.  His e f f e c t i s cumulative, i n the opinion of  John Burroughs,-"he stands f o r a d e f i n i t e and well-grounded idea or p r i n c i p l e , an idea which gives a c e r t a i n unity and 2 s i m p l i c i t y to h i s entire work." taken as he may  The c r i t i c i s m i s just.  Mis-  have been at times, Arnold was e n t i r e l y s i n -  cere i n h i s e f f o r t to 'see l i f e 1.  Contemporary Review.  2*  Century.  Vol. 36.  P.  s t e a d i l y , and see i t whole.'  Y o l . 24. 185.  P.  539.  29  :  CHAPTER 2  CULTURE AND  Any man who misunderstood  THE STATE  sets pen to paper runs the r i s k of being  and misinterpreted, i f h i s writing contains even  a modicum of thought.  In the case of an author whose work i s  predominantly c r i t i c a l , the r i s k i s , of course, greatly amplif i e d , and when the author deliberately assumes the mantle of the teacher and prophet i n matters s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s , he f i n d s the pack of reviewers on h i s t r a i l i n f u l l throat.  Such  was Matthew Arnold's experience over a period of some f o r t y years, including the time from the date of h i s death, t i l l the turn of the century.  1888,  Within that period there were  years of maximum c r i t i c a l ' a c t i v i t y .  In the year 1888,  for i n -  stance, i t i s almost impossible to pick up a number of any p e r i o d i c a l without coming across an a r t i c l e proving that Arnold's poetry would be the only permanent part of h i s work, or a weighty dictum that h i s poetry was p r a c t i c a l l y n e g l i g i b l e , but that h i s essays contained some sound ideas.  The  reviews  themselves expressed every conceivable shade of h o s t i l i t y or of approbation, - the reviewers ranged from professors and scholars of recognized c r i t i c a l status to men who had l i t t l e to a i r but a grievance.  Even Americans disagreed as to h i s merits, a  phenomenon which would have caused Arnold, who  regarded Ameri-  ca as the home of almost unrelieved tonishment.  Philistinism,  no l i t t l e as-  During the l a t e r years of h i s l i f e and i n the years  immediately following h i s death the harsh and abusive element gradually disappeared from the notices of reviewers, while even h i s severest c r i t i c s admitted h i s p u r i t y of motive.  The great  body of able c r i t i c a l opinion, too, concurred i n c r e d i t i n g Arnold with a salutary and far-reaching influence, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n the f i e l d of education. ted.  Yet the lack of agreement p e r s i s -  F i t c h , writing i n the Church Quarterly of 1899,  said of.  Arnold, - "He could not speak to the emotions, he could only arouse the intellect.""*"  Five years l a t e r , the author of a  penetrating study i n the Edinburgh Review declared that "Arnold was eminently a man of i d e a l s . 2  He was i n less degree  .......  a man of ideas." Such estimates as contained i n the foregoing quotations have the flavour of personal reminiscence, and variations i n personal appraisals of any man's work are natural - nay, desirable,.  But f o r years, as I have stated, the reactions to h i s  ideas included every phase of violent disagreement  and remon-  strance, and the reason f o r such bewildering d i v e r s i t y of opinion i s I think two-fold.  In the f i r s t place, Arnold's s a l l i e s  into the arena of s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s controversy were c a l culated to arouse the average man as well as the scholar, and every man who has even a smattering of l i b e r a l education f e e l s q u a l i f i e d to a i r h i s views on matters of p o l i t i c s and r e l i g i o n . 1.  L i v i n g Age.  V o l . 221. P. 99. 2.  Ibid. Vol. 242. P. 7 6 9 .  Moreover, a l l of Arnold's readers, save the few who could achieve a -calm and detached outlook, found something p e r s o n a l l y annoying i n h i s work.  Under a l l h i s surface r a i l l e r y of  manner and v i v a c i t y of style "he was, even i n the age of Car•  1  '  l y l e and Ruskin, perhaps the most serious man a l i v e " , and he possessed to an exceptional degree the power of acting as an intellectual irritant.  He employed t h i s g i f t with deftness  and zest, and sent h i s barbs continually into the tough hide of a rather exasperated John B o l l .  That the barbs frequently  found t h e i r mark i s evident from the r e p l i e s , some appreciat i v e , some sarcastic and some downright angry, evoked by h i s criticisms. The p u b l i c a t i o n of Arnold's l a s t lecture from the Chair of Poetry at Oxford, under the t i t l e of "Culture and I t s Enemies" , impressed scholars and reviewers with the fact that here was a poet turned reformer, a c r i t i c who was d i s s a t i s f i e d with the e x i s t i n g order of things and who' f e l t that r a d i c a l changes were necessary.  True, Arnold had made excursions into t h i s  f i e l d before, but the tone of F r i e n d s h i p s Garland was almost r  uniformly one of a i r y banter, and the serious warnings i n h i s School Reports were wasted on Headquarters.  Consequently, when  Culture and Anarchy appeared as a single volume i n 1869 the growing body of h i s readers r e a l i z e d , i n some cases with a sensation akin to shock, that Matthew Arnold was seriously advocating "culture" as a sovereign remedy f o r the i l l s 1.  Bookman.  V o l . 16. P. 116.  afflicting  English society.  Many of h i s readers declared, angrily or  p l a c i d l y according to t h e i r natures, that Mr. Arnold was ing through h i s p r o f e s s o r i a l hat.  talk-  What could he wrong with  England, a country which l e d the world i n trade and i n d u s t r i a l expansion?  Such was the attitude of the P h i l i s t i n e , the man  whom Arnold was determined to educate to a sense of h i s own shortcomings.  Most of h i s abler c r i t i c s f e l t , with varying de-  grees of i n t e n s i t y , that Arnold's •"Culture cure" was  imprac-  t i c a l or inadequate, or both. The state of society i n mid-Victorian England i s too well known to need discussion here* but a few words, placing Arnold i n r e l a t i o n to h i s environment, would not be amiss.  The  rapid development of industry and trade i n the nineteenth century, with the spectacular growth of machinery, had not only added to B r i t a i n ' s already impressive stature i n the congress of nations, but had created vast new  sums of domestic wealth.  The d i s t r i b u t i o n , however, was more uneven than ever;  The  new  wealth was p r a c t i c a l l y a l l i n the hands of an enterprising and energetic middle-class, the entrepreneur and the manufacturer. Below t h i s class were the workers whose condition, i f we are to believe h i s t o r i a n s and n o v e l i s t s , was v i r t u a l l y one of slavery. The mill-worker and the mine-worker had more freedom to come and go than had the yeoman of the eighteenth century, but exploited as they were by greedy and unscrupulous employers, the freedom was more t h e o r e t i c a l than r e a l .  Meanwhile the a r i s t o c -  racy, p r a c t i c a l l y shorn of i t s power as a class by the Reform B i l l of 1832 and subsequent measures, had r e t i r e d i n upon i t -  self.  The ambitious minority supplied the country with party  leaders - the remainder rode to hounds.  The r e a l control of  English a f f a i r s was i n the hands of the affluent middle classes When Matthew Arnold came to i n t e l l e c t u a l and c r i t i c a l maturity, t h i s was substantially the state of English society, although the a r i s t o c r a t s were beginning to mingle with the upper middle class a l i t t l e more f r e e l y ; and the lower classes, following the series of r i o t s and p e t i t i o n s i n the f o r t i e s and f i f t i e s , were r a i s i n g c o l l e c t i v e and i n d i v i d u a l s'oiees i n a d i s turbing demand f o r s o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l r i g h t s .  To us i n the  jJew World class d i s t i n c t i o n s j t h e o r e t i c a l l y at least, are nonexistent, but i n the England of Arnold's day they were r e a l and vital.  The l i n e s of demarcation were softening a l i t t l e , but  Arnold  sstill had reason f o r h i s a r b i t r a r y d i v i s i o n of English  society into the Barbarians, the P h i l i s t i n e s , and the Populace. The Populace, as a name describing the vast residuum of the laboring class, i s admittedly weak, but the other two lasted for many years.  The aristocracy Arnold regarded as being i n -  herently inaccessible to ideas, splendid ornaments of essential refinement i n manners but just a l i t t l e obtuse i n matters of i n t e l l e c t u a l progress and a c t i v i t y .  This, coupled with t h e i r  fondness f o r f i e l d sports and martial pastimes, induced him to . fasten on them the name of Barbarians. With the middle-class, the P h i l i s t i n e s , we come to the f i e l d of Arnold's unceasing e f f o r t .  As the dominant class i n  England, the representative c l a s s , their flaws and faults'were to Arnold the chief e v i l s i n the corporate and i n d i v i d u a l Eng-  l i s h character.  The name P h i l i s t i n e , as h i s l e t t e r s t e l l as,  he obtained from Heine, who used i t i n h i s b i t t e r attacks on German middle-class stupidity and banality*  Arnold took the  name to s i g n i f y 'the enemies of the children of l i g h t ' , and i t s connotations of s p i r i t u a l blindness and m a t e r i a l i s t i c owed half t h e i r pungency to h i s i r o n i c a l pen.  grossness  The d i s t r e s s i n g  thing about the middle-class character, to Arnold, was i t s a l most t o t a l lack of what he c a l l e d 'sweetness and l i g h t ' , or beauty and i n t e l l i g e n c e .  Honconformists^  >  i n r e l i g i o n , material-  i s t ^ i n education, occupied mainly with the a c q u i s i t i o n of wealth and commercial prestige, the P h i l i s t i n e had no time f o r soul-restoring thought, no opportunity to establish h i s own l i f e i n a true perspective by c o r r e l a t i n g i t to the i n s p i r i n g truths of l i t e r a t u r e and the thoughts of- great men, and to the beauty of the world about him.  Furthermore, and t h i s i s what  Arnold r e a l l y found alarming, he showed no i n c l i n a t i o n to achieve t h i s balanced and harmonious growth, nor even a suspicion that anything was wrong with him*  Flattered by p o l i t i c i a n s and  orators seeking t h e i r own ends, lauded to the skies by brotherP h i l i s t i n e s i n the newspapers, the great middle-class had come to regard i t s e l f as well-nigh p e r f e c t .  Achievement was trans-  lated i n terms of f a c t o r i e s and mines, population and wealth, while the e f f o r t s of educational and s o c i a l i d e a l i s t s to rouse them to a contemplation of the so-called f i n e r things of l i f e were regarded with a p l a c i d disapproval touched with contempt. Arnold understood h i s v i c t i m well, p a r t i c u l a r l y after h i s long and tedious years spent i n inspecting the schools of Dissenters,  and the style he employed, with i t s combination  of direct at-  tack and i r o n i c a l suggestion, was best calculated to set up an acidie reaction i n the middle-class armour-plating of conceited self-esteem* One ing  of Arnold's most i r r i t a t i n g and therefore most t e l l -  mannerisms: was h i s constant r e i t e r a t i o n of favourite catch-  words and phrases.  It would not have been successful i n h i s  l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m , as he no doubt r e a l i z e d , and  consequently  i s l i t t l e more than an idiosyncrasy of style i n h i s purely l i t erary work. ish  But to make an impression on the mind of the B r i t -  P h i l i s t i n e was a task c a l l i n g at times f o r cruder methods,  and so he employed the hammer-strokes of r e p e t i t i o n . statement  of the shortcomings  A succint  and needs of the B r i t i s h P h i l i -  stine appeared i n an a r t i c l e e n t i t l e d "A Word About America", when f o r the hundreth time he defined the mental and  spiritual  status of the middle-class personality. "The English middle class presents us at t h i s day, for. our actual needs, and f o r the purposes of national c i v i l i z a t i o n , with a defective type of rel i g i o n , a narrow range of i n t e l l e c t and knowledge, a stunted sense of beauty, a low standard of manners. up of human l i f e , as men  For the building  are now beginning to see, there are  needed not only the powers of industry and conduct, but the power, also, of i n t e l l e c t and knowledge, the power of beauty, the power of s o c i a l l i f e and manners.  And that type of l i f e  of which our middle class i n England are i n possession i s one by which neither the claims of i n t e l l e c t and knowledge are sati s f i e d , nor the claim of beauty, nor the claims of s o c i a l  life  and manners." To correct t h i s raw and unlovely set of conditions, Arnold submitted that the one thing needful was the pursuit of culture, the absorption, through study and contemplation, of the best that has been thought and said i n the world.  Culture  he defined as the study of perfection, and "perfection, - as culture from a thorough disinterested study of human nature and human experience learns to conceive i t , - i s a harmonious expansion of a l l the powers which make the beauty and worth of human nature, and i s not consistent with the development of any one power at the expense of the r e s t .  Here culture goes beyond •  ,  2  religion-, as r e l i g i o n i s generally conceived by us." Let  us consider t h i s d e f i n i t i o n , p a r t i c u l a r l y the l a t -  ter part of i t .  Arnold had not yet entered the. f i e l d of r e l i g -  ious controversy, though Culture and Anarchy contains prophetic passages, nor had he l a i d down h i s famous dictum that conduct i s three-fourths of l i f e .  He had not yet reached the stage of  making arbitrary arithmetical and p h i l o l o g i c a l c l a s s i f i c a t i o n s , and indeed seemed to have a clearer perception of l i f e as a harmonious whole than he was to exhibit f i v e years l a t e r .  At a l l  events, he described l i f e as composed of two elements, Hebraism and Hellenism.  The former, r e l i g i o n , supplied the f i r e and  strength necessary to insure firmness of character and i n t e g r i t y 1.  nineteenth Century Review, 1882. Vol. 2.  2.  Culture and Anarchy,  P. 9,  P. 686.  of soul.  The l a t t e r element, as represented by culture, sup-  p l i e d the beauty and i n t e l l i g e n c e , the 'sweetness and l i g h t * needed ;\n rounding out our l i f e to a harmonious p e r f e c t i o n . The P h i l i s t i n e , rooted i n the b e l i e f s and f a n a t i c a l zeal of the early Puritans, had an abundance of the Hebraistic element, but had s a c r i f i c e d the claims of true i n t e l l i g e n c e and beauty. This narrowness had given him concentration and energy, but had deprived him of a broad and i n t e l l i g e n t understanding of l i f e and humanity, and from t h i s lop-.sidedness arose the e v i l s that spurred Arnold to h i s c u l t u r a l crusade. The worst of the e v i l s a r i s i n g from t h i s imperfect ment a l and s p i r i t u a l development was to Arnold the Englishman's proneness to worship machinery.  In h i s zeal f o r industry and  wealth, h i s s a t i s f a c t i o n with material possessions, the B r i t i s h P h i l i s t i n e had come to mistake the means f o r the end, to bestow on coal-mines, on f a c t o r i e s , on muscular strength, or .Q.n popul a t i o n the pride, the energy and devotion which might better be reserved f o r f i n e r and more ultimate things.  Even h i s r e l i g i o n  had come to be mere machinery, a mass of form and dogmas devoid of any r e a l s p i r i t u a l s i g n i f i c a n c e .  This was the natural out-  come of a single-minded pursuit of material things, and Arnold's irony i s cuttingly employed i n discussing "that b e a u t i f u l sentence S i r Daniel Gooch quoted to the Swindon workman, and which I treasure as Mrs. Gooch's Golden Rule, or the Divine Injunction 'Be ye Perfect' done into B r i t i s h , - the sentence S i r Daniel Gooch's mother repeated to him every morning when he was a boy going to work; 'Ever remember, my dear Dan, that you should  look forward to being some day manager of that concern.'  tnl  This, then, was the deepest flaw i n the make-up of the B r i t i s h P h i l i s t i n e , - the f i e r c e concentration on material aenlevement to the exclusion of humanizing mental influences, the mistaking of means f o r ends, the tendency to regard the mere machinery of l i f e as a beautiful and ultimate goal. l i b e r t y , said Arnold, had been over-emphasized*  Even  The English-  man's jealous and f a n a t i c a l assertion of personal p r i v i l e g e , sacred under the B r i t i s h c o n s t i t u t i o n , had degraded l i b e r t y into a mere piece of machinery, and had opened the door to rowdyism and rash action*  What was the use of freedom of thought  and speech, demanded Arnold, i f that thought and speech were not to be governed by calm reason?  " A l l the l i b e r t y i n the  world" he declared " w i l l not ensure these two things: a high 2 reason and a fine culture." These were the goals towards {  which man should s t r i v e , and i f the c u l t u r a l elements i n h i s nature are unduly subordinated, then they must be developed at the expense of the other elements u n t i l a balance i s attained. In the same essay, he outlined h i s creed i n a pregnant sentence which refuted the 'charge frequently made against him of minimising the importance of character, of the elements of f i r e and strength.  "Culture without character i s , no doubt, something  frivolous, vain, and weak; but character without culture.Is, on  1.  Culture and Anarchy.  P. 41.  2.  Mixed Essays, 1879. P. 38.  the other hand, something raw, -  b l i n d , and dangerous.""  1  Arnold was frequently accused of lauding the French at  the expense of the English, but according to him the French were noticeably d e f i c i e n t i n the Hebraistic, or character element, while the English were under-developed on the H e l l e n i s t i c , or c u l t u r a l side. achieved  Ancient Athens he considered to have  the nearest approach to harmonious perfection, the  most perfect fusion of the factors necessary f o r 'the culture of a people.  1  "That i s why  the spectacle of ancient Athens has  such profound i n t e r e s t f o r a r a t i o n a l man."  4he point f o r  the Englishman to consider was not wherein he was the Frenchman f o r instance, but wherein he was p r o f i t aocordlngly.  superior, to  i n f e r i o r , and to  Arnold vehemently denounced the tendency  of p o l i t i c i a n s to praise the middle-class energy, industry, and accumulation of wealth.  These v i r t u e s they had i n abun-  dance, and so f a r as the leaders emphasized these attributes at the expense of the e s s e n t i a l elements that were lacking, so much more remote became the chance of attaining a balanced ment a l and s p i r i t u a l growth. strength amd  Arnold was  quite aware of the  s o l i d i t y of the middle classes, as i s evident  throughout h i s l e t t e r s but he i n s i s t e d that they could only be transformed into something l e s s raw and unlovely by a constant analysis of their f a u l t s .  1.  Mixed Essays.  2.  Ibid.  P.  39.  To harp on t h e i r material  aehieve-  ments and their pet f e t i s h e s was merely to embalm them further in the o i l of their own bovine  self-approval.  The gospel of culture was c e r t a i n l y not starved f o r lack of notice.  Most of the c r i t i c s , when Arnold f i r s t  ad-  vanced h i s doctrines i n a lengthy and d e f i n i t e form, were i n c l i n e d to regard him as a f a s t i d i o u s and supercilious professor of b e l l e s - l e t t r e s , holding a scented handkerchief between h i s delicate n o s t r i l s and the strong odours of P h i l i s t i n e vulgarity.  His counsel was compared to an application of parmaceti,  or  some such scented salve, and the whole ' r e l i g i o n of culture'  was f r e e l y described as so much 'moonshine'. rather to Arnold's amusement, attempted  Frederic Harrison,  a reply i n the i r o n i c a l  vein of "Friendship's Garland", but f i n a l l y could not r e s t r a i n his  indignation at the sight of a man of culture holding out  his  pouncet-box i n the midst of death, degradation and misery. Serious attention, however, was paid to Arnold*s ideas  by many able c r i t i c s , and perhaps the most trenchant c r i t i c i s m s were advanced by Professor Henry Sidgwick, essayist and l e c t u r er of repute.  In h i s a r t i c l e , "The Prophet of Culture", he  deprecates Arnold's remoteness from l i f e and a c t u a l i t y , h i s tendency to treat "the most profound and d i f f i c u l t problems of i n d i v i d u a l l i f e with an a i r y dogmatism that ignores their depth and d i f f i c u l t y . "  In h i s scorn of Nonconformist  sects, com-  plains Sidgwick, "he does not care to penetrate the secret of t h e i r f i r e and strength."  These two elements, i n Sidgwick's  opinion, were more needed at the time than sweetness and l i g h t . . Arnold's culture, with i t s emphasis on contemplation, was only  "a languid form of the passion f o r doing good."  It was a l l very  well f o r Arnold to condemn action without knowledge as being rash and dangerous, but " t h i s i s the eternal excuse of indolence - I n s u f f i c i e n t knowledge."'  1  These comments, while meriting thoughtful considerat i o n , betray a rather imperfect understanding of Arnold's r e a l position.  A more careful scrutiny would have revealed the fact  that h i s d e f i n i t i o n of culture was noiso one-sided as might appear to a hasty reviewer.  He d i s t i n c t l y says of cultures'™  " I t moves by the force, not merely or primarily of the scient i f i c passion f o r pure knowledge, but also of the moral and s o c i a l passion f o r doing good."  Hence true culture embodies a  profound conception of r e l i g i o n , but d i f f e r s from popular rel i g i o n s i n that " i t demands worthy notions of reason and the w i l l of God, and does not r e a d i l y suffer i t s own crude concep2 tions to substitute themselves f o r them."  Ihe charge of i n -  dolence, of course, i s always brought against a man who cates profound thought as a pre-requisite to action.  advo-  In the  case of Matthew Arnold, one passage from h i s l e t t e r s i s so reassuring that I cannot r e f r a i n from quoting i t i n f u l l .  While  on the f i r s t of h i s continental tours of inspection f o r the Department of Education, he expressed i n a l e t t e r to h i s s i s t e r his disgust with I t a l i a n i n e f f i c i e n c y and laziness. "The whole lump want back-bone, serious energy, and power of honest work 1.  Macmillan's Magazine.  2.  Culture and Anarchy.  V o l . 16. P. 6.  P.  271.  to a degree that makes one impatient.  I am tempted to take the  professors I see i n the schools by the c o l l a r , and hold them down to t h e i r work f o r f i v e or s i x hours a day - so angry do I get at t h e i r shirking and i n e f f i c i e n c y .  They have a l l a cer-  t a i n refinement which they e a l l c i v i l i z a t i o n , but a nation i s r e a l l y c i v i l i z e d by acquiring the q u a l i t i e s i t by nature i s wanting i n ; and the I t a l i a n s are no more c i v i l i z e d by virtue of t h e i r refinement alone than we are c i v i l i z e d by virtue of 1 our energy alone."  C i v i l i z a t i o n to Arnold, as we s h a l l see  l a t e r i n t h i s chapter, was synonymous with culture, and h i s sense of a people's need i s nowhere better stated than i n t h i s letter. Writing i n the F o r t n i g h t l y Review i n 1869, a reviewer named Kirkus declared that Arnold's doctrines were fundamental truths.  Conveyed i n h i s i n c i s i v e and s a t i r i c a l style, they sup-  p l i e d a d i s t i n c t need i n English society. where i n advance of knowledge.  Action was every-  But to wait u n t i l  'perfection  i s attained' i s anarchic - Arnold, said Klrkus, had got ready the tools and wagon and was waiting f o r someone to build the road.  His culture was " l i t t l e better than the mocking prophet • 2 ' •  of an impossible perfection."  The c r i t i c i s m as a whole annuls  i t s e l f by i t s own contradictions, but i t i s t y p i c a l of the misunderstanding to which Arnold was frequently subjected.  "Mr.  Arnold i s himself an exquisite result of i n f i n i t e mistakes, 1.  Letters of Matthew Arnold.  2.  F o r t n i g h t l y Review.  V o l . 2.  V o l . 1. P.  372.  P. 280.  43 and looks down with a h a l f - d i v i n e contempt upon the very elements of which he himself i s construe ted. "**"  What the f i r s t part  of t h i s comment s i g n i f i e s i s , I confess, rather obscure - I strongly suspect Mr. Kirkus of being w i l l i n g l y seduced by the a l l u r i n g mirage of a well-turned phrase.  The d e f i n i t e charge  i n the second part i s best answered i n Arnold's own words.  A  passage taken from the end of the essay on " I r i s h Catholicism and B r i t i s h Liberalism" shows Arnold addressing the middle class i n a mood of unusual earnestness.  "The Puritan middle  class, with a l l i t s f a u l t s , i s s t i l l the best stuff i n t h i s nation.  Some have hated and persecuted i t , many have f l a t t e r e d  and derided i t , - f l a t t e r e d i t that while they derided i t they may use i t ; I have believed i n i t .  I t i s the best stuff i n  t h i s nation, and i n i t s success i s our best hope f o r the f u 2  ture.  But to succeed i t must be transformed." Transforming the middle class - this was the task to  which Matthew Arnold devoted the f u l l vigour of.his matured mental powers and l i t e r a r y s t y l e .  The tendency was doubtless  hereditary,- Thomas Arnold was saturated with an unbridled passion to reform, and Matthew must have caught something of h i s reforming zeal.  Then too, both men were born educationists.  Dr. Arnold of Rugby needs no introduction; and Matthew, as Inspector of Schools f o r some t h i r t y years, had ample opportunity to observe the shortcomings  of England's educational system.  1,  F o r t n i g h t l y Review"; : ¥ol. 2.  2.  Mixed Essays.  ;  P. 142.  P. 372.  The tours on the continent, f o r the express purpose of reporting to the Department on the advantages or disadvantages of continental school systems, gave Arnold keen s a t i s f a c t i o n .  He  was p a r t i c u l a r l y impressed with the uniform and centralized system of France, controlled by the State,  The e f f i c a c y of  the State as a c o n t r o l l i n g power i n such properly communal matt e r s as education and r e l i g i o n r e a l l y forms the basis of Arnold c r i t i c a l and polemical attempts at reform.  Already imbued  with h i s father's high conception of the function of the State, he was confirmed i n h i s opinions by the e f f i c i e n c y and cheapness of the French schools, as contrasted with the haphazard and expensive methods, or lack of method, p r e v a i l i n g i n England.  To save the B r i t i s h P h i l i s t i n e from himself culture and  refinement were necessary, and Arnold could v i s u a l i z e only one means of achieving t h i s - State control of Secondary Education for the middle classes.  Here was the Holy G r a i l of h i s reform-  ing crusade, the unshakable  conviction that developed by repe-  t i t i o n into a formula. The c r i t i c i s m might w e l l be advanced - why  t h i s preoc-  cupation with secondary education and the middle classes? .It seems to indicate a lack of sympathy with other stages i n the learning process and other classes of l i f e .  Arnold, however,  was f u l l y aware of t h e i r existence and importance.  In a l e t t e r  of 1865, written from the continent, he says:- "I f i n d , after a l l , the education of the middle and upper classes a less important and i n t e r e s t i n g a f f a i r than popular education, as a matter of public i n s t i t u t i o n I mean.  So many other influences  t e l l upon those classes that the influence of a public system of  education has not the same r e l a t i v e importance i n their case  as i n that of the common people, on whom i t i s almost the only 1 great c i v i l i z i n g agency d i r e c t l y at work."  Popular elemen-  tary i n s t r u c t i o n , however, had made d i s t i n c t advances; the government was becoming interested i n supplying the people with at  least the rudiments of education.  As f o r the aristocracy  and the wealthier middle class, the great public schools of England and the U n i v e r s i t i e s functioned f o r them.  I t was the  great body of the middle class with whom Arnold was concerned,the  shopkeepers, farmers, and c i t i z e n s of moderate means, who  could not a f f o r d to send t h e i r sons to Eton and Harrow, and who were consequently at the mercy of the spasmodic private ent e r p r i s e s of irresponsible quacks.  The middle classes were as-  suming, the dominant p o s i t i o n i n England - hence, said Arnold, t h e i r education was a matter of primary importance. l e r 's opinion, "he misread England.  In Sad-  He conceived English so-  ciety to be divided into three d i s t i n c t classes and had i n 2 mind a system of education i n three corresponding layers." But t h i s s t r i c t u r e i s disproved by Arnold's praise f o r the French schools, a system of education integrated from kindergarten to u n i v e r s i t y .  The pages of A French Eton show us that  he found need f o r reform i n p r a c t i c a l l y every phase of English school l i f e , but that the most crying need was a better system 1.  Letters.  Y o l . 1. P. 302.  2.  Nineteenth Century Review.  Vol. 93. P. 366.  of secondary education f o r the middle classes. Arnold's d e f i n i t i o n of the State as a 'national best self :, a beneficent power which could be directed so as to pro1  duce, with a maximum of e f f i c i e n c y and a minimum of expense, the greatest happiness f o r everyone, did not appeal to h i s contemporaries.  In f a c t , Englishmen regarded the State as a med-  d l i n g nuisance, a power which must be r i g i d l y curbed and confined i f the sacred r i g h t s and p r i v i l e g e s of the Englishman were to maintain t h e i r hard-won prestige.  The attitude, as Ar-  nold pointed out, was the r e s u l t of confusing the State as an entity with the governing c l a s s .  The State, he declared, i s  only ourselves, our c o l l e c t i v e or national s e l f , and w i l l be obedient or tyrannical according to the way ceived;  i n which i t i s con-  The rugged individualism of which the English were  prone to boast had given r i s e to most of the s o c i a l and economi c i l l s a f f l i c t i n g the country.  In a l e t t e r to a French friend  i n 1878, Arnold r e i t e r a t e d h i s theory that any people must c u l t i v a t e the q u a l i t i e s i n which i t i s d e f i c i e n t .  " I suppose your  thoughts, i n France, must turn a good deal upon the over-medd l i n g of the State, and the need of developing more the action of i n d i v i d u a l s . the other way.  With us the mischief has, I am convinced, been The State has not shown enough a s p i r i t of i n -  i t i a t i v e , and individuals have too much thought that i t suff i c e d i f they acted with entire l i b e r t y and. i f nobody had any business to control them.""'" For over twenty years 1.  Letters.  Vol. 2.  P.  Arnold dinned into the ears of  149.  •  '  •'  47  the B r i t i s h public the doctrine of State-supported schools.  secondary-  Whether he addressed merchants or working-men, wheth-  er he wrote on I r i s h p o l i t i e s or English r e l i g i o n , he endeavoured to bring h i s readers to an appreciation of the truth and significance i n Burke's d e f i n i t i o n of the State: 'the nation i n i t s c o l l e c t i v e and corporate character'.  And he explains h i s  concentration upon middle-class education*  " I t i s only a few  years since one might hear State-aided elementary schools described as schools with the State-taint upon them.  However, the  expediency and necessity of making popular education a public service grew to appear so manifest, that the repugnance was 1 • overcome."  How that State-aided elementary education was a  r e a l i t y , a similar boon to secondary education should be the aim of a l l thinking men, irrespective of c l a s s .  The middle  class, Arnold f e l t , were i n a p o s i t i o n to p r o f i t most at the time by such a reform.  I t was high time that Salem House and  such i n s t i t u t i o n s were abolished, and B r i t i s h secondary educat i o n roused from a condition which Arnold considered a disgrace . to any c i v i l i z e d European nation. These were strong words, and some of Arnold's must have squirmed.  readers  But beyond scoffing at him f o r continually  r i d i n g the State hobby-horse, h i s c r i t i c s made l i t t l e attempt to refute the charges i n h i s educational writings. Arnold knew what he was talking about there.  After a l l ,  He had the facts,  gathered during active service as an Inspector at home and on 1.  I r i s h Essays, 1891. P. 70  '48 the continent, and most of h i s recommendations have since been incorporated i n school p o l i c y .  In a book l i k e A French Eton,  too, we do not f i n d the r a i l l e r y and the over-emphasis for effect c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of h i s other work i n t h i s f i e l d .  There i s  a sobriety of tone and a l u c i d i t y of argument that i s almost i r r e f u t a b l e , backed as i t i s by observation and knowledge. Arnold's a b i l i t y to see both sides of a question, a power with which he was  seldom credited, i s to me f a i r l y obvi->  ous i n a s e l e c t i o n from the same book.  "Our middle class has  secured f o r i t s e l f that centre of character and that moral force which ar, I have said, the indispensable basis upon which p e r f e c t i o n i s to be founded.  To securing them, i t s vigour i n  r e s i s t i n g the State, when the State t r i e d to tyrannise over i t , has contributed not a l i t t l e . "  1  But now  that freedom was se_ •  cure, and the State subordinated, the power of the State to enlarge and expand the middle-class character, and help i t to achieve p e r f e c t i o n ( i . e . through education), should be u t i l i z e d . "State-action i s not i n i t s e l f unfavourable  to the Individual's  perfection, to h i s a t t a i n i n g h i s f u l l e s t development.  So far  from i t , i t i s i n ancient Greece, where State-action was omnipresent, that we see the individual at h i s very highest pitch 1  of free and f a i r a c t i v i t y . "  It was only when the State oper-  ated as an a l i e n power that trouble and oppression resulted the vigour and sturdiness of the B r i t i s h people would contend against that. 1.  Through these very national characteristics,  A French Eton, 1892.  P.  108.  said Arnold, "I believe we, more than any modern people, have the power of renewing, i n oar national l i f e , the example of • 1 Greece."  Signs were not lacking that a strong i n t e l l e c t u a l  ferment was at work i n the middle classes, a mental ardour that augured well f o r the future i f properly directed, a v i t a l c u r i osity concerning the new science and the disturbing changes taking place generally i n the world of thought.  " W i l l t h i s move-  ment," asked Arnold, "go on and become f r u i t f u l : w i l l i t con-  :  duct the middle class to a high and commanding p i t c h of culture 2 • • ••. • and i n t e l l i g e n c e ? " To a t t a i n t h i s goal the middle class must be transformed, and so we return again to the core and centre of Arnold's teaching.  In the simple exposition of h i s reports,  as i n the irony of h i s c r i t i c a l attacks, he found England's most pressing need to be improved secondary education f o r the middle classes.  "Public schools f o r the middle classes", he  admitted elsewhere, "are not a panacea f o r our i l l s .  Ho, bat  they ai e the indispensable preliminary to our r e a l improvement ;  on almost a l l the l i n e s where as a nation we now move with em••• 3 barrassment." Probably the only sphere i n which Arnold had any direct influence was i n that of education, and here the results were not r e a l l y manifest u n t i l after h i s death.  F i t c h , Sadler and  Archer a l l pay tribute to the value of h i s contributions, and 1.  French Eton.  2.  Ibid.  3.  I r i s h Essays.  P. 109  P. 114. P. 55.  p a r t i c u l a r l y to the. wealth of suggestions contained i n h i s reports.  The Schools Inquiry Commission i n 1868 marked a turn-  ing-point, although i t s recommendations f o r a measure of State control and public supply i n secondary education were not carr i e d through t i l l 1902. ion,  as Arnold was,  They were i n advance of public opin-  though the concessions that were granted  owed not a l i t t l e to h i s energetic pen.  Endowments, which Ar-  nold had denounced as a mere stop-gap, were f r e e l y employed. As f o r the suggestion that anything more than a degree was needed f o r teaching, the general reaction was one of amused horror*  Arnold's dream of special t r a i n i n g f o r teachers, cor-  responding to the French Normal Schools, was also to wait some t h i r t y years f o r f u l f i l l m e n t .  The main thing to recognize i s  the fact that inadequate and incompetent  instruction, 'payment  by r e s u l t s ' , lack of a uniform standard,- a l l these e v i l s so earnestly condemned by Arnold were being investigated by i n t e l l i g e n t and capable men.  His ideal of State control of edu-  cation, of the people and f o r the people, was not realised before h i s death, but there were unmistakable  signs of progress.  His advice on educational matters was candidly sought by high o f f i c i a l s , as h i s l e t t e r s t e l l us, and h i s services to educat i o n and l i t e r a t u r e were awarded by a pension i n the closing years of h i s l i f e . To define Arnold's s o c i a l b e l i e f s and place him i n some d o c t r i n a l category would be impossible.  With h i s emphasis on  State control, h i s idea of a government having i t s source i n the w i l l of the people and functioning f o r the people, we might  consider him a h i t of a s o c i a l i s t , or at least an ardent democrat.  Apparently no such suspicion crossed the minds of h i s  contemporaries,  even when they decried h i s advocacy of State  r u l e , and resented h i s d e f i n i t i o n of English society as 'an upper class materialised, a middle class vulgarised, and a lower class b r u t a l i s e d ' .  This very d e f i n i t i o n , of course, placed  Arnold i n rather a unique p o s i t i o n . group.  He held no b r i e f f o r any  The bourgeois and the p r o l e t a r i a t were alike imper-  f e c t , and the aristocracy as such were rapidly becoming unnecessary.  I t marked him out as an i d e a l i s t , rather than a prac-  t i c a l reformer, and there i s some justice i n the remark that "Arnold's message was one f o r individuals, and not, as he i n • 1  s i s t e d , f o r communities".  This does not detract from the  value of h i s message, nor does i t prove that the. l i m i t a t i o n was on the side of Arnold rather than of society. s e l f an  Arnold, him-  i n d i v i d u a l i s t , had no wish to see Englishmen lose  t h e i r strongly-developed individualism - he only desired them to remove the blind spots by a recognition,of the function and true value of the State, i n the dual and indistinguishable role of servant and governor to. the people. That Arnold's doctrines placed him apart, and perhaps aloof, from other s o c i a l reformers, i s evident when we come to examine h i s true aims.  He had no p a r t i c u l a r wish to see soci-  ety s o c i a l i z e d , or even democratized,civilized. 1.  he did wish to see i t  I t was not so much a matter of who should be i n  L i v i n g Age. Vol. 242. P. 769  control,- what made Arnold groan was the spectacle of control being i n the hands of any but those i n t e l l e c t u a l l y and cultura l l y q u a l i f i e d to wield i t .  Of course no control would be  necessary i n a Utopia where humanity at large had achieved a genuine culture, because no s t r i k i n g superiority would be mani f e s t ; and insofar as he entertained this dream of ultimate perfection, Arnold may be considered a rather etherealized kind of S o c i a l i s t .  No compromise should be allowed i n the  f i g h t f o r c u l t u r a l achievement,  " S o c i a l i s t i c and communistic  schemes have generally, however, a f a t a l defect; they are content with too low and material a standard of well-being.  That  i n s t i n c t of perfection, which i s the master-power i n humanity, always rebels at t h i s , and frustrates the work.  Many are to  be made partakers of well-being, true: but the idea of well1 " being i s not to be on that account lowered and coarsened." This high conception of the c i v i l i z i n g or humanizing destiny of man explains Arnold's distaste f o r many of the p o l i t i c a l planks and f o o t l i n g s o c i a l measures so ardently supported by other men.  There i s no doubt that h i s attitude blinded him  to much that was e f f e c t i v e i n temporary l e g i s l a t i o n , but he persisted i n the larger function of reminding men that progress was not confined to winning such issues as the right to marry one's deceased wife's s i s t e r .  I t should be worthwhile,  at this point, to f i n d out what " c i v i l i z e d " , as an adjective worthy a nation's coveting, s i g n i f i e d to Arnold. 1.  Mixed Essays.  P. 70  "Man i s c i v i l i z e d " , said Arnold, "when the whole body of  society comes to l i v e with a l i f e worthy to be called human,  and corresponding to man's true aspirations and powers."  1  Having stated h i s general thesis, he went on'to enunciate, two indispensable features of a c i v i l i z e d people - the f e e l i n g f o r expansion and the f e e l i n g f o r equality.  Among the English the  f i r s t had been manifested as an intense love of l i b e r t y , a love which unfortunately had degenerated into a f e t i s h .  But  to Arnold the love of l i b e r t y was one of the ' v i t a l i n s t i n c t s ' of man - no matter how benevolent or r a t i o n a l absolutism might be, i t would' inevitably break down because i t thwarted t h i s vital instinct.  The f e e l i n g f o r equality, on the other hand,  though possessed by the French, was d e f i n i t e l y thwarted i n England.  In France a peasant might converse with a gentleman  and e s t a b l i s h c e r t a i n mutual bonds of understanding - i n England, where gross inequality existed, no such common understanding was p o s s i b l e . the  The r i s i n g tide of restlessness among  labouring classes was to Arnold the i n s t i n c t f o r equality  asserting i t s e l f , and hence the increasing need f o r a true app r e c i a t i o n of the nature and importance of c i v i l i z i n g aims and influences.  Becoming more, e x p l i c i t , Arnold enumerated  tors which make f o r a r e a l c i v i l i z a t i o n . of  the fac-  "They are the power  conduct, the power of i n t e l l e c t and knowledge, the power of  beauty, the power of s o c i a l l i f e and manners.  Expansion, s c i -  ence, conduct, beauty, manners,- here are the conditions of  1.  Mixed Essays.  Preface. P. VI*  C i v i l i z a t i o n , the claims which man mast s a t i s f y before he can I be humanised." It w i l l r e a d i l y be seen that Arnold's mental outlook had l i t t l e i n common with the usual type of s o c i a l reformer.. Programmes and platforms d i d not interest him, nor the elevat i o n of any p a r t i c u l a r c l a s s .  The imperfections peculiar to  each class must be eradicated by educative influences, and the State rendered synonymous with the highest c u l t u r a l achievement of i t s people.  This, of course, establishes Arnold as an  advocate of democracy, but a democracy with State-organization as i t s v i t a l force, which would c e r t a i n l y seem to indicate a high order of socialism.  An examination of h i s essay on "De-  mocracy" should prove of i n t e r e s t .  "The growing power i n Eur-  ope" , he wrote, " i s democracy; and France has organized democ2 racy with a c e r t a i n indisputable grandeur and success."  This  success, of course, was the r e s u l t of State-action, and Arnold proceeded  to analyze the English distaste f o r State-action of  any sort.  I t was natural that the aristocracy should- condemn  i t , f o r i t meant the loss of class power. aristocracy was i n e v i t a b l e , anyway.  Bat the decline of  "At epochs when new ideas  are powerfully fermenting i n a society, and profoundly changing i t s s p i r i t , a r i s t o c r a c i e s , as they are i n general not long suffered to guide i t without question, so they are by nature 3 not well f i t t e d to guide i t i n t e l l i g e n t l y . " Aristocracies, 1.  Mixed Essays.  2.  Ibid.  P. 14.  Preface.  P. IX. 3.  Ibid.  P. 17.  Arnold maintained, were by nature inaccessible to ideas, and t h e i r decline i n i n t e r e s t and effectiveness was accompanied by a corresponding  decline i n the reverence and respect offered  them by the other classes of society. There was no j u s t i f i c a t i o n , however, f o r the abhorrence i n which the middle and lower classes held the State p r i n c i p l e . It was the r e s u l t of confusing cause and e f f e c t . tyranny  The. petty  i n such things as the Five-Mile Act and the Act of Uni-  formity had attached a stigma to the name of State-action which had prejudiced the Puritan middle class f o r two hundred years* Conditions had now changed, and the state could be made to serve useful ends.  " I t i s not State-action i n itself.which  the middle and lower classes of a nation ought to deprecate; i t i s State-action exercised by a hostile class, and for their -1  oppression."  So too, when scornful reviewers pointed out the  weaknesses i n the French and American systems, and a sited with r h e t o r i c a l shudders whether Arnold wished h i s own country to exhibit such gross f a i l i n g s , he merely desired them: to compare t. the circumstances and characters of the nations i n question. His old preference f o r corrective c r i t i c i s m , h i s impatience with the f l a t t e r y which seeks to conceal blind spots, i s revealed i n the following description of England's need f o r Stateaction.  "That which operates noxiously i n one, may operate  wholesomely i n the other; because the unsound part of one's 1.  Mixed Essays.  P. 36.  character may be yet further inflamed and enlarged by i t , the unsound part of the other's may f i n d i n i t a corrective and an 1  '  abatement." I have spoken at greater length than I had intended upon Arnold's analysis of England's need f o r State-action, but t h i s conception i s an i n t e g r a l feature of h i s attitude to reform.  The class system e x i s t i n g i n England he considered to  be,antiquated * and u t t e r l y unfit to serve as a model i n a progressive society.  "We  are t r y i n g to l i v e on with a social or' 2  ganization of which the day i s over."  No progress i s possible  when " L i b e r a l s tend to accept the middle class as i t i s , and to praise the nonconformists; while Conservatives tend to accept the upper class as i t i s , and to praise the aristocracy."^ Arnold's b e l i e f i n the fundamental i n s t i n c t f o r equality was no mere 'mouth-honour to the worker; i t was a genuine convicr  tion.  He had no patience with Rousseau's theory of abstract  natural r i g h t s .  "Peasants and workmen" he said "have no natur-  a l r i g h t s , not one.  Only we ought instantly to add, that . 3 •  kings and nobles have none either."  His ideal of culture was  a goal towards which a l l should s t r i v e , and however impractical he may have been, the accusations of selfishness and supercilious indolence pale before the s i n c e r i t y of a passage such as this.  "An i n d i v i d u a l or a c l a s s , concentrating their efforts  1.  Mixed Essays.  2.  Ibid.  P. 95.  3.  Ibid.  P.  61.  P. 24.  upon t h e i r own well-being exclusively, do but beget troubles both f o r others and f o r themselves also.  No individual l i f e  can be t r u l y prosperous, passed, as Obermann says, i n the midst of men who suffer."  In Culture and Anarchy Arnold had ex-  pressed the same i d e a l .  A people must cultivate 'a national,  glow of l i f e ' , a r e a l sweetness and a r e a l l i g h t must spread t h e i r beneficent rays over the complicated structure of society,  u n t i l the mental and s p i r i t u a l pulse of the individual  should beat i n harmony with the corporate culture of an awakened world.  "This i s the s o c i a l idea; and the men of culture  are the true-apostles of equality." No one can be blamed who smiles at t h i s b e a t i f i c . v i s i o n and murmurs " I d e a l i s t I",  at the same time wondering how  to reconcile i t with a man who spent t h i r t y years of h i s l i f e inspecting schools.  I t i s a tribute to Arnold's force of char-  acter, i n my estimation, though I can imagine Mr. Kingsmill, with some p i t y but more s a t i s f a c t i o n , p i c t u r i n g poor Matthew as he shrinks f a s t i d i o u s l y from a rude world into the cool remoteness of h i s study, there to embrace with a chaste idealism the visionary mistress of an impossible culture.  Some of h i s  contemporaries, while of course not so clever as Mr. Kingsmill, were even more severe against the u t t e r l y impractical and i d e a l i s t i c gospel he preached f o r the salvation of society. Sidgwick described i t as "a fair-weather thing, not i t s e l f a spring and source of f a i t h and ardour", and went on to say that  1.  Mixed Essays.  P. 70.  2.  Culture and Anarchy.  P. 31.  "Culture inevitably takes one course.  It recognizes with a  sigh the l i m i t s of self-development, and i t s f i r s t becomes 'tempered by r e n o u n c e m e n t .  1  enthusiasm  This, i s not the place to  start a discussion as to the p r a c t i c a l or impractical nature of culture.  But I do propose to show, i n Arnold's own words, that  he did not consider himself a second Messiah indicating with a nonchalant hand the way  to a lew Jerusalem.  He offered no cure-  a l l , but a f r e s h and valuable stimulus i n the d i r e c t i o n of a complete l i f e .  His goal might never be attained, but the value  of h i s teaching l a y i n the richness i t would lend to 'human nature's d a i l y food'.  "Perfection w i l l never be reached; but  to recognize a period of transformation when i t comes, and to adapt themselves honestly and r a t i o n a l l y to i t s laws, i s perhaps the nearest approach to perfection of which men and nations are capable.  Ho habits or attachments  should prevent  t h e i r t r y i n g to do t h i s ; nor indeed, i n the long run, can they. Human thought, which made a l l i n s t i t u t i o n s , inevitably saps 2 them, resting only i n that which i s absolute and eternal." It i s scarcely to be expected that a man with so large, and to many so impractical an outlook upon l i f e should be part i c u l a r l y happy i n h i s expressions of opinion on questions of immediate i n t e r e s t .  In h i s attempts to .trace the devious cur-  rents of p o l i t i c a l thought and action Arnold was more often wrong than r i g h t , and Frederic Harrison was moved to remark that 1.  Macmillan's Magazine.  2.  Mixed Essays.  P. 47.  V o l . 16.  P.  271.  'the man  of culture i s i n p o l i t i c s the poorest mortal a l i v e ' .  This of course leaves unanswered the question as to which i s at f a u l t , the man  of culture or p o l i t i c s .  A L i b e r a l i n the broad  and true sense of the word, Arnold, disgusted thou^a herns with p o l i t i c a l catch-words and procrastination, strove continua l l y to bring that party to an understanding bilities.  He was,  of i t s responsi-  as we have seen, no revolutionary - rather  than destroy e x i s t i n g i n s t i t u t i o n s he preferred to work from within, to purge away the f a u l t s and to mold and transform the obsolete into something of use to the present.  Social struc-  tures and p o l i t i c a l machinery only j u s t i f i e d themselves when they were p l i a n t and adaptable  i n the face of changing condi-  tions. This broadly s o c i a l , rather than narrowly p o l i t i c a l outlook, a sympathetic grasp of basic needs r e s u l t i n g from a true l i b e r a l i t y of mind, i s nowhere better i l l u s t r a t e d than i n Arnold's treatment of the I r i s h problem, one of the greatest p o l i t i c a l dilemmas of the nineteenth century and of our He refused to admit that v i r t u a l separation was  own.  unavoidable  -  Gladstone's Home Rule B i l l he deemed the height of insanity. But, he did recognize the necessity of making f u l l and generous concession i n the s p i r i t of good-will.  Always an admirer  of Burke, he f e l t that the great statesman had shown more than usual acumen i n h i s warnings regarding Ireland. clared that tardy concessions, off  Burke had  de-  or concessions granted to stave  uprisings, could never improve the s i t u a t i o n .  Arnold  seized upon t h i s profound truth to i l l u s t r a t e the course of  events sinoe Burke's death i n 1797.  Since the Union, he poin-  ted out, Catholic d i s a b i l i t i e s had been removed, t i t h e s had been abolished, the I r i s h Church had f i n a l l y been disestabl i s h e d , and c e r t a i n reforms had been effected by the Land Act of 1870.  Yet every one of these had been a grudging l a s t -  minute concession, and as a consequence the I r i s h , f a r from being r e c o n c i l e d to B r i t i s h Rule, were more b i t t e r and importunate than ever.  Conquered i n a savage and ruthless manner,  with centuries of misery and misrule to inflame them, the I r i s h were not l i k e l y to be content with half-way measures. The granting of a Catholic system of education and f u l l corr e c t i o n of the e v i l s of absentee landlordism Arnold considered to be absolutely necessary; and the f a n a t i c a l L i b e r a l opposit i o n to r e l i g i o u s endowments was to him the chief stumblingblock i n the way  of a r e c o n c i l i a t i o n .  In h i s essay, The 11  Ineompatibles", Arnold went back to  h i s c u l t u r a l and educational doctrines f o r an explanation of the entire lack of sympathy and understanding existing between the E n g l i s h and the I r i s h .  Born of a Cornish mother, Matthew  f e l t a keen interest i n and at times showed c onsiderable i n sight of the C e l t i c mind.  The real tragedy behind  England's  f a i l u r e to assimilate the I r i s h lay i n an incompatibility of temperament.  How  could anyone expect such an assimilation,  asked Arnold, when the I r i s h had only come i n eontact with the English P h i l i s t i n e at h i s worst?  To the sensitive and imagina-  t i v e C e l t , with h i s keen sense of the ridiculous, with h i s r e l i g i o n breathing poetry and h i s l i t e r a t u r e steeped i n f a i r y -  tale and legend, the hard and unimaginative Englishman, with h i s material conception row,  middle-class  of l i f e and h i s nar-  f a n a t i c a l Puritanism could only be repulsive.  irishman thought of England such was  When an  the race he pictured,  a people with 'a defective type of r e l i g i o n , a narrow range of i n t e l l e c t and knowledge, a stunted sense of beauty, a low standard of manners'.  What a model I  Yet, said Arnold,  Englishman i n h i s arrogant righteousness man  the  expected the I r i s h -  to forget the centuries of i l l - u s a g e and chicanery, and to  form himself submissively  on the l i n e s of t h i s same P h i l i s t i n e  model, i n return for a tardy and reluctant recognition of simple r i g h t s . Arnold, at the r i s k of extreme unpopularity, was never a f r a i d to quote foreign c r i t i c s of English l i f e .  In f a c t , he  honestly f e l t that such s t r i c t u r e s should be a most valuable stimulus to s e l f - c o r r e c t i o n , and that instead of producing an i r r i t a t e d or superior state of mind, they should make the subject of the remarks analyze himself c a r e f u l l y . c i a l E n g l i s h middle-class contempt f o r outside appalled Arnold, who  influences  quoted Goethe to prove the Englishman a  pedant, and a French c r i t i c who but not amiable.  The provin-  described the English as just,  I t did no good to turn around and  sneeringly  point out the flaws i n the French or German nake-up - that did not correct the f a u l t s i n the English character.  And these two  f a u l t s , pedantry and lack of amiability, were amply demonstrated i n the English treatment of Ireland.  It was easy to con-  demn the I r i s h as slovenly and s h i f t l e s s , but what  incentive  had they to admire or to imitate the middle-class Englishman, lacking as the l a t t e r was i n courtesy and tact, and a slave to p o l i t i c a l catch-words?  Neither side of the P h i l i s t i n e tempera-  ment had any a t t r a c t i o n to the I r i s h mind, declared Arnold,the dour, hard, material business man nor the j o v i a l , backslapping, beer-drinking purveyor of elephantine fun.  Murdstone  and Quinion a l i k e r e p e l l e d the C e l t i c imagination. This b l i n d egotism and s e l f - s a t i s f a c t i o n of the P h i l i s t i n e , h i s i n a b i l i t y to view l i f e with any but his omripple vision,  i s the subject of,one of the f i n e s t passages of sus-  tained irony i n Arnold's c r i t i c a l essays.  I cannot r e f r a i n  from.yuoting the paragraph i n f u l l , with the added comment that any Englishman who didn't squirm when he read i t was below the l e v e l of anything but the d a i l y paper.  In the second chapter  of Culture and Anarchy, e n t i t l e d "Doing As One Likes", Arnold has just commented on the harsh treatment of Fenianism, as opposed to the lenient handling of English r i o t e r s .  "In the  f i r s t place, i t never was any part of our creed that the great r i g h t and blessedness of an Irishman, or, indeed, of anybody on earth, except an Englishman,  i s to do as he l i k e s ; and we can  have no scruple at a l l about abridging, i f necessary, a nonEnglishman's  assertion of personal l i b e r t y *  The B r i t i s h Cons-  t i t u t i o n , i t s cheeks, and i t s prime virtues, are f o r Englishmen.  We may  extend them to others out of love and kindness;  but we find no r e a l Divine law written on our hearts constraining  us so to extend them.  And then the difference between an  I r i s h Fenian and an English rough i s so immense, and the case,  in dealing with the Fenian, so much more clear. dently desperate and dangerous, a man  1  He i s so evi-  of a conquered race, a  Papist, with centuries of ill-usage to inflame him against  us,  with an a l i e n r e l i g i o n established i n h i s country by us at his expense, with no admiration  f o r our i n s t i t u t i o n s , no love of  our v i r t u e s , no t a l e n t s f o r our business, no turn for our comfort J  Show him our symbolical Truss Manufactory on the finest  s i t e i n Europe, and t e l l him that B r i t i s h industrialism and in-.v dividualism can bring a man  to that, and he remains coldJ  Evi-  dently, i f we deal tenderly with a sentimentalist l i k e t h i s , i t i s out of pure philanthropy i""*" The  Irishman, then, could never be assimilated unless  a more a t t r a c t i v e type of c i v i l i z a t i o n were offered him, so we come again to the mainspring of Arnold's teaching. an improved type of education  and Only  could effect that desired change  in c i v i l i z a t i o n , and since the I r i s h were i n contact mostly with the middle classes, the important thing was secondary education.  Here was  the forming-ground for the mind  of youth - i t s p i t i f u l inadequacy was duct.  middle-class  amply attested by the pro-  In "An Unregarded I r i s h Grievance" Arnold axamined the  report of Professor Mahaffy, an I r i s h educationist, and described the same haphazard methods and incompetence as p r e v a i l ing  i n Ireland, with the added handicaps of f i l t h , squalor  misery.  and  A m u l t i p l i c i t y of subjects, none of which were learned  well, an unhealthy concentration on the few b r i l l i a n t pupils by the-headmaster, and a t o t a l ignorance of the basic p r i n c i 1.  Culture and Anarchy.  P.  40.  pies of education - such, was professor Mahaffy's estimate of I r i s h secondary education.  Outside of the few great schools,  declared Arnold, conditions i n England were substantially the same, and he again f e r v e n t l y maintained that a public system of secondary education was i n the case of elementary  the only solution.  It had worked  schools, but most of the middle-elas  population desired more advanced t r a i n i n g , and u n t i l State con t r o l should place such education on a plane of uniform excellence, a sympathetic  and homogeneous culture among the B r i t i s h  people and t h e i r a u x i l i a r i e s was impossible. With Arnold's b e l i e f i n an ultimate democracy and equality, i t was natural that he should watch America and Ameri cans with i n t e r e s t .  It was also natural that he should be dis  appointed, when measuring American achievements by his own standards.  Not that he was  i l l - d i s p o s e d towards them.  He  was  just as pleased when h i s work met with a favourable reception in the United States as i f i t had been h i s own country, and he thoroughly enjoyed h i s lecture tour i n the winter of 1883-84. He appreciated t h e i r good q u a l i t i e s , their open-heartedness and zest f o r l i v i n g , and i n one of h i s l e t t e r s home while on tour, he paid tribute to the virtues of American society as exemplified i n the family of h i s host.  "The whole family have  compared with our middle class at home, that buoyancy, enjoyment, and freedom from constraint which are everywhere i n Amer. ica, and which confirmed me i n a l l I have said about the way in which the a r i s t o c r a t i c class acts as an incubus upon our  middle class at home.""" 1  Arnold f e l t , however, that America was a l l middle class - i n obtaining t h i s freedom Americans had l e v e l l e d oat into a uniform monotony and had l o s t a l l claim to d i s t i n c t i o n .  Demo-  cracy mast aim at a uniform excellence, not sink to a uniform Philistinism.  There were cultured people among them, but the  mental gawkiness and rawness, the almost belligerent assertion of equality with each other and superiority to the rest of the  1  world - these unmistakable marks of the P h i l i s t i n e aroused a l l the old d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n i n Arnold.  An American lady wrote to  him i n praise of a number of poems she had read, and upon Arnold's demurring at the indiscriminate homage, good-naturedly replied that he was probably r i g h t , but that she liked to think of excellence as being so abundant.  This of course was sheer  heresy to Arnold, who was never t i r e d of saying that excellence dwells amon;g high rocks, and that 'a man must wear h i s heart out to get at her'. Nevertheless, he was extremely anxious that the American mind should remain open to c u l t u r a l influences, and not be submerged i n i n t e l l e c t u a l mediocrity by the weight of wealth and numbers.  In 1865 he observed, "There i s an immense public  there, and t h i s alone makes them of importancej but besides that, I have been struck with what I saw of them on the continent i n the l a s t few months, both with t h e i r i n t e l l e c t u a l l i v e l i n e s s and ardour,  1.  Letters.  Vol, 2.  and also with the good effect their  P. 229  wonderful success has produced on them i n giving them something r e a l l y considerable to rest upon, and freeing them from the necessity of being always standing upon their toes, crowing.""*" In  spite of these v i r t u e s , the rawness and boisterousness of  the New  World were extremely d i s t a s t e f u l to Arnold, and the  press he considered an appalling symptom.  The soul of the r e a l  Matthew illumines a sentence in-one of h i s l a s t l e t t e r s from the States:- " I would sooner be a poor p r i e s t i n Quebec than a 2 r i c h hog-merchant i n Chicago," His usual, a i r of kindly tolerance proved exasperating enough to American c r i t i c s , and Arnold came i n f o r h i s f u l l share of scathing rebukes.  In an a r t i c l e called "Matthew Ar-  nold ' s Discomfort" , the writer reproached Arnold with making an e n t i r e l y s u p e r f i c i a l and inadequate c r i t i c i s m of American c i v i l i z a t i o n , based on h i s own physical and mental discomfort 3 while v i s i t i n g there;  Such was hardly the type of thing ex-  pected from a c r i t i c of Matthew Arnold's c a l i b r e .  J.B. Fry be-  came quite b i t t e r over Arnold's shallow and unjust c r i t i c i s m of American l i f e and landscapes, and suggested  sarcastically  that the noticeable scarcity of medieval r e l i c s was responsible for  Arnold's h o s t i l i t y .  No doubt a natural lack of sympathy  with conditions i n the New to  some extent. 1.  Letters.  2.  Ibid.  3.  Nation*  World did colour Arnold's judgment  Another American, however, John Burroughs, Vol. 1.  Vol. 2.  P.  Vol. 46.  P.  309.  264. P.  294.  made what I f e e l to be a sound and s i g n i f i c a n t comment upon Arnold's work.  He described the impression one gets of Arnold as  a scorner, from a desultory reading.  But t h i s impression, he  added, wears away "as one grows f a m i l i a r with the main current of h i s teachings."  1  No truer observation upon Arnold has been  uttered. One  of the things which made Arnold most effective as  a mental stimulant was h i s own  cosmopolitan mind.  claim, with perfect truth and equanimity,  He could  to be cultured, i f  to be f a m i l i a r with the best that has been thought and said i n f i v e languages i s to be cultured.  The Englishman was quite  capable of returning sneer f o r sneer with his foreign c r i t i c s . But here was  a c r i t i c , himself an Englishman, who held up to  the s t o l i d P h i l i s t i n e gaze the beautiful and edifying examples of Plato and Marcus Aurelius, while he p l a y f u l l y jabbed his v i c tim  i n the flank with the caustic barbs of Goethe and Sainte-  Beuve.  I f the v i c t i m showed signs of f i g h t , the candid words  - "What we Englishmen lack" - accompanied by a smile that was almost a pat on the head, reduced him to a state of muttering impotence.  This urbanity and tolerant good temper i n the midst  of c o n t r o v e r s i a l heat must have annoyed Arnold's exceedingly.  contemporaries  I f he had denied his b i r t h r i g h t they might have  turned and rended him, but i n spite of a l l h i s affections for continental writers and scenery,  'he remained an Englishman'.  He exemplified h i s own doctrines that a man,  1.  Century.  Vol. 36.  P.  515  while preserving  his national pride and i n t e g r i t y , should p r o f i t by the wisdom and example of other peoples, and a c r i t i c who  both preaches  ,and p r a c t i s e s such an attitude i s not the easiest mark i n the world f o r reviewers.  One thing Arnold's attackers never at-  tempted to impeach was h i s honesty, whether i n motive or method. This fundamental love of country i s most evident i n his  letters.  " I w i l l only say that a l l I see abroad makes me  fonder of England, and yet more and more convinced of the gene r a l truth of the ideas about England and her progress, and what i s needful f o r her, which have come to me almost by i n 1 s t i n c t , and yet which a l l I see keeps constantly confirming." Again, i n 1866, when two inspectoral tours on the continent had ripened h i s powers of observation, he voiced h i s understanding of the national need.  "I should be sorry to be a  Frenchman, German, or American, or anything but an  Englishman;  but I know that t h i s native i n s t i n c t which other nations, too, have does not prove one's superiority, but that one has to a2 ehieve t h i s by undeniable excellent performance."  Part of  Arnold's constant badgering of the P h i l i s t i n e was owing to the r e a l d i s t r e s s he f e l t at the thought of Englishmen putting up a l e s s creditable showing than the other c i v i l i z e d peoples of Europe.  This thought occurs frequently i n his correspondence,  and that he regarded h i s attacks p a r t l y i n the nature of a 1.  Letters.  Y o l . 1.  2.  Ibid.  320.  P.  P.  293.  duty to h i s countrymen i s p l a i n from the r e l i e f with which he turned to h i s study of C e l t i c l i t e r a t u r e i n March, 1866. "I am glad to deal i n sheer d i s q u i s i t i o n sometimes", he wrote, "and 1 to leave irony and the P h i l i s t i n e s . " When the f i r s t part of Culture and Anarchy appeared i n the C o r n h i l l of 1867, Henry Sidgwiek uttered what imprest as being two s i g n i f i c a n t comments.  me  They were general observa-  tions rather than d i r e c t c r i t i c i s m s of Arnold.  " I f any c u l -  ture r e a l l y has what Mr. Arnold i n h i s finest mood c a l l i t s noblest element, the passion f o r propagating i t s e l f , . . 2 '. then l e t i t learn to c a l l nothing common or unclean." Later i n the same a r t i c l e , after a pessimistic survey of the contemporary state of mind, Sidgwiek gloomily gave i t as h i s opinion that the culture held out by Arnold as a guiding lamp of knowledge 'would most l i k e l y s l i p into dilettantism.  In the con-  cluding pages of t h i s essay, a hasty glance over subsequent developments should prove interesting, bearing i n mind Sidgwick' s remarks.  At present a b r i e f chat with the reviewers  w i l l show us the increased respect accorded the 'prophet o f culture' with the passing years. As early as 1882, an a r t i c l e i n the Athenaeum denounced the age as 'swaggering and noisy' and added: "Mr. Arnold's .' function i s to protest against i t s improprieties by his i n t e l l e c t u a l p r a c t i c e , and now and then to take h i s contemporaries  Vol. 1.  1.  Letters.  P. 324.  2.  Macmillan's Magazine.  Vol. 16. P. 271.  to task and to c a l l them to order,""  -.After a description of  his  cosmopolitan and diverse b r i l l i a n c e , . t h e writer concluded,  "We  have every reason to be proud of him,"  ing  attitude i n the closing years of h i s l i f e and i n the l a s t ,  decade of the century.  This was the grow-  In the year 1888, of course, there was  a veritable wave of c r i t i c a l comment, but the impression der i v e d by the reader i s f o r the most part one of i n t e l l e c t u a l honesty.  Adulation there i s i n abundance, but there i s no hes  i t a t i o n i n pointing out the weaknesses.  One c r i t i c found him  frequently tiresome, declared h i s d e f i n i t i o n of culture to be a h a l f - t r u t h , and stated that much of h i s work was written f o r immediate e f f e c t ,  ( I t was,  admittedly.)  wanting by h i s own  standards.  Arnold i s found  He has supplied the f o o l i s h and  i d l e with smart catch-words, "but that he has supplied one reasonable being, capable of thinking f o r himself, with a subs t i t u t e f o r the system he wished to abandon, i t i s impossible seriously to suppose."  Yet even t h i s writer acclaimed Ar-  nold's purity of motive, and added of h i s l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m : 2 ;  "On the broad general l i n e s he never went wrong." Such adverse c r i t i c i s m was, however, the exception. With h i s power of s o c i a l analysis and h i s p r a c t i c a l culture, declared another c r i t i c i n speaking of Arnold's c i v i l i z a t i o n , "We  f e l t , when he was t a l k i n g about i t , that i t was  1.  Athenaeum, 1882.  2.  Quarterly Review.  Y o l . 1.  P.  Y o l . 167.  337. P. 398.  something  r e a l ana d e f i n i t e that he was  discussing, and not the vague ab-  stractions of the s o p h i s t . "  And  1  again:-"Because he was  them, the P h i l i s t i n e s , i . e . , Nonconformists and Low l i s t e n e d to him, with the r e s u l t that Low ' ' 1 and Nonconformity i s Broad Church."  one  of  Churchmen,  Church i s no more,  Between these extremes  of detraction and enthusiasm l i e s a great body of sane and balanced c r i t i c i s m , predominantly respectful i n tone.  The  s t r i k i n g thing i s that the 'parmaceti and moonshine* gibes have disappeared. "Everyone nowadays"., said W.C. Brownell i n .1901, " i s t h e o r e t i c a l l y a f r i e n d of culture - even the strenu2 ous." As early as 1879, Brownell had spoken of "a general recognition on the part of 'my and l i g h t ' p o s i t i o n was  countrymen'" that the  a tenable one.  'sweetness  "But" , he added, "few  of Mr. Arnold's sincerest admirers, we imagine, are reconciled to the exclusiveness  with which of late years he has devoted  himself to h i s missionary work.  I t i s possible to go along 3  with him completely and s t i l l regret t h i s . " This opinion of the eminent American c r i t i c was h e a r t i l y echoed i n London by many who  f e l t that, valuable and i n -  structive as h i s polemical and controversial work may have been, i t caused the l o s s of something better.  "Yet opinion varied as  to his most e f f e c t i v e contribution i n spheres of p r a c t i c a l activity.  A writer i n the London Times of 1888,  1.  Athenaeum, 1888.  2.  Scribner's Magazine,  3.  nation.  Vol. 29.  Vol. 1.  P.  P.  v o l . 30. 276.  500. P.  105.  after commenting  on Arnold's pre-oocapation with middle-class secondary educat i o n , declared:- "One  of Mr. Arnold's chief t i t l e s to the re-  gard of h i s countrymen i s that he continued to press t h i s ideal • '1 • with a l l the power at h i s command." Sadler described t h i s as 2 "the chief p o l i t i c a l work of Matthew Arnold's l i f e . "  Fitch  found a higher c u l t u r a l tone p r e v a i l i n g and ascribed i t to Arnold.  But whether he was regarded as a s o c i a l c r i t i c or an  educational prophet, the majority of h i s reviewers were agreed that he was an essayist of v i s i o n and a b i l i t y , that he detected r e a l flaws i n English society and worked with unselfish zeal and genuine insight f o r their correction, and that h i s work had made an undoubted impact upon the thinking Englishman. Recent c r i t i c i s m has been l i t t l e concerned with the phase of Arnold's work dealt with i n t h i s chapter, or with h i s r e l i g i o u s opinions, and f o r a very good reason.  What was  pure-  l y ephemeral or of temporary interest i n h i s writing died with the author, while some of the more profound and s i g n i f i c a n t speculations, i n some cases so disturbing to his contemporaries, have been incorporated into the fabric of society. boldest ideas are now question.  Many of h i s  commonplace, and we accept them without  In a f l a s h of prophetic c l a r i t y , one of h i s c r i t i c s  wrote:- "His books and he have done their work so well that they can never appeal to any l a t e r age with so much force as 3 they have to t h i s . " Yet through t h i s very appeal, "they must 1. 2. 3.  L i v i n g Age. Vol. 177. P. 433. Nineteenth Century. Vol. 93. P. 366. Athenaeum, 1888. Vol. 1. P. 500.  l i v e as t y p i c a l of our age and representative of  CHAPTER 3 RELIGION.  A r e a l l y able study of Matthew Arnold i n the Fortnightly Review of 1888, by a reviewer named F. W. Myers, described him as f i l l i n g the four-fold o f f i c e of Inspector of Schools, Essayist, r e l i g i o u s reformer, and poet, - an accomplished s p e c i a l i s t i n the f i r s t capacity, most b r i l l i a n t i n the second, most anxious and devoted i n the t h i r d , and longest to be remembered i n the fourth.  Since the present chapter i s  concerned with the t h i r d of these capacities, we may note with some interest the emphatic  statement made by Myers that Arnold  was best.known by h i s graver writings.  In that same year,  1888, "a kind of p l e b i s c i t e recently taken by a democratic newspaper brought out 'Literature and Dogma' as h i s most valued work."  1  To a 'modern' i n the twentieth century, such a general opinion i s at f i r s t incomprehensible.  The spring freshets of  new thought which rushed impudently, and i n some cases with a l i t t l e temerity, between the frowning rock walls of t r a d i t i o n have now fused and broadened into a wide stream of s c i e n t i f i c speculation, along the surface of which we are borne, uncertain  1.  L i v i n g Age. V o l . 177.  P.545.  of the depth, currents, or destination, bat s i l e n t l y the i n e v i t a b i l i t y of the stream's existence.  accepting  We s t i l l wrestle  with the eternal problem o f the meaning o f l i f e , but to most of us l i f e i t s e l f i s something of immediate interest and s i g n i ficance, and not merely a period of preparation f o r the possible delights and probable agonies of a l i f e to come.  Certain  s c i e n t i f i c and speculative heresies of a century ago have become an i n t e g r a l part of our thinking, and the r a t i o n a l , educated mind no longer finds a standard form of r e l i g i o n i n d i s penable.  The church, as an organ f o r c o l l e c t i v e worship,  exists among us rather i n the r o l e of a tolerated poor r e l a t i o n of threadbare g e n t i l i t y , ornamental i f not useful, while a young man entering the ministry, once the refuge of the finest i n t e l l e c t s , today merely confirms the previous his  suspicions of  friends that he has neither the brains nor energy to be a  bond salesman.  The f a i t h of our fathers, as d e f i n i t e as day  and night, has faded into a t w i l i g h t of speculative t i e s , a source neither of agony nor of ecstasy.  uncertain-  The Everlast-  ing Yea and the E v e r l a s t i n g Hay, have dissolved into the Everl a s t i n g Maybe i With such an attitude of mind the modern i s not l i k e l y to be discouraged rocks of t r a d i t i o n . torian I  by the corrosion and crumbling of the  But how d i f f e r e n t was i t with the Vic-  The o l d i m p l i c i t b e l i e f i n B i b l i c a l C h r i s t i a n i t y , and  in i t s l i t e r a l application to l i f e , was rudely shattered by new s c i e n t i f i c interpretations of l i f e from without the pale of the Church, and by dissention and d i f f e r i n g from within.  Ho  wonder the Victorians were so intensely interested i n r e l i gious controversy and i n interpretations of t h e o l o g i c a l dogma. The very foundations of l i f e i t s e l f were s h i f t i n g , and the old guard of the Church were making a determined  stand, vain as i t  was to prove, against the r i s i n g tide of science.  We consider  the Victorian to have been a singularly p l a c i d and s e l f - s a t i s f i e d mortal, but tho se of our fathers who were prone to indulge i n p l a i n and fancy thinking must have l i v e d i n a state of considerable mental s t r e s s .  Their b e l i e f i n the fundamentals  of t r a d i t i o n a l C h r i s t i a n i t y , as expounded by the Church, formed the very roots of their s p i r i t u a l being, and yet science was o f f e r i n g them apparently profound truths, the evidence of which they could not refuse.  Most of them, honest souls that  they were, were thoroughly bewildered and not a l i t t l e dismayed i n trying to reconcile the new  ideas which they could not but  accept with the old f a i t h they could not bear to r e l i n q u i s h . The old f a i t h , as a unifying force, has since disappeared, while the r e c o n c i l i a t i o n seems to be as f a r o f f as ever. It was f o r the benefit of these r e s t l e s s and harried souls, t r y i n g desperately to gather loose threads of thought into a harmonious pattern of l i f e , that Matthew Arnold wrote his  essays on r e l i g i o n , chief among which i s h i s Literature  and Dogma, an Essay towards a Better Apprehension  of the B i b l e .  He was one of them; their d i f f i c u l t i e s and needs were h i s . His own competence as a theologian was frequently and sometimes angrily questioned, and indeed i t would be d i f f i c u l t to defend his  s a l l i e s into the f i e l d of B i b l i c a l interpretation on the  grounds of f i t n e s s .  But that he understood the needs and  d i f f i c u l t i e s of the people, independent of h i s success i n f i n d ing a s o l u t i o n f o r them, i s obvious when we learn that L i t e r a ture and Dogma ran to four editions i n the year i t was published.  To most of us i t i s the deadest part of Arnold's work  - to h i s contemporaries i t was f r u i t f u l and exciting.  Violent  was the disagreement over h i s attempt to make C h r i s t i a n i t y r a t i o n a l - some regarded him as an atheist, and some as a new Messiah.  He was rather, as someone said, the product and best  expression of the i n t e l l e c t u a l ferment of h i s age.  In the  following examination, I do not propose to follow him into the i n t r i c a t e and moss-grown labyrinth of dogmatic theology, a task f o r which I have neither the time nor the a b i l i t y , nor, i t must be confessed, the i n c l i n a t i o n .  Without doing that i t  i s possible, and much more interesting to discuss, i f I may  be  permitted a mathematical f i g u r e , the C h r i s t i a n i t y plus poetry minus theology that Arnold t r i e d to expound. With the die-hard fundamentalist and the out-and-out atheist Arnold was not concerned.  The great army of d i s s a t i s -  f i e d i n t e l l e c t s were those i n need of a cheering and ing message.  stabiliz-  It was useless, thought Matthew, to deplore the  passing of the old order, or the i n f l u x of the new,  Both were  symptoms of a great and permanent change, and the thing to do was to make the change as painless and as productive of good as po ssible.  In a l e t t e r from Matthew to his si ster i n 1874, •  we get a v i v i d glimpse of the p r e v a i l i n g state of mind, and a simple and courageous  statement of Arnold' f a i t h i n humanity.  "Yt!hen I see the conviction of the ablest and most serious men around me that a change must come, a great plunge must be taken, I think i t well, I must say, instead of simply d i l a t i n g , as both the r e l i g i o u s and the a n t i - r e l i g i o u s are fond of doing, on the plunge's utterness, tremendousness, and awfulness, to show mankind that i t need not be i n despair and t e r r o r , that 1  everything essential to i t s progress stands f i r m and unchanged*' This, then, was the aim of Literature and Dogma, an aim of which h i s father would have approved would have disapproved of the method.  just as h e a r t i l y as he But Matthew had pro-  gressed f a r from the uncomprising Hebraism of Dr. Arnold, and was ready and w i l l i n g to meet the new gods of Science half-way. The r e a l l y disturbing feature of the new skeptioism was to Arnold i t s growing power over the lower classes.  In  every age there had been sophisticated and b r i l l i a n t wits, and even groups, who had found the Bible ani established r e l i g i o n to be objects of r i d i c u l e rather than reverence.  The masses,  however, had stood with bowed head before the revealed word of God.  But with changing s o c i a l conditions, with education fo  stimulate what Arnold o p t i m i s t i c a l l y considered man's natural p r o c l i v i t y to reason, t h i s blind acceptance of the p r i e s t l y interpretation of l i f e * s greatest mysteries was vanishing. "This i s what everyone sees to constitute the special moral feature of our times: the masses are losing the Bible and i t s 1.  Letters. Vol.2.  P.120.  religion."  1  And the reason f o r t h i s , Arnold maintained, was  not hard to understand.  Science, with i t s emphasis on factual  evidence, was o f f e r i n g ample proof to support i t s contentions. When the experimental yardstick was applied to r e l i g i o n , however, the masses made the amazing discovery that the core of C h r i s t i a n i t y must be sought behind an imposing but arbitrary superstructure of theological dogma.  E c c l e s i a s t i c a l dicta  which had been regarded i n the l i g h t of d i v i n e l y - i n s p i r e d authority were now found to be capable of examination and  cri-  ticism, and even the very sentencesof the Bible could be inter, preted i n various ways.  Ceremonies and formulas which had  been revered as the essentials of f a i t h were discovered to be non-essentials. Who ing  could blame the masses, asked Arnold, f o r r e j e c t -  Church doctrines when these doctrines, long taken to be  the i n f a l l i b l e revelation of Eternal wisdom, were, found to be based only on the abstract speculations of theologians?  To  recognize the f a l l i b i l i t y of Church doctrine and to reject i t was inevitable, and desirable,- but to cast aside C h r i s t i a n i t y and the Bible as exploded superstitions impressed Arnold as a form of s p i r i t u a l suicide.  Erom t h i s conviction arose h i s  central t h e s i s , - that the fundamental truths of the old Hebrew r e l i g i o n and of the teachings of Jesus, freed of the trappings of theological dogma, would restore to "the people" a f a i t h , the profound beauty and truth of which they could not help but realize. 1.  "He perceived", as Myers said, "the absolute moral  Literature and Dogma.  P. 311.  need that their r e l i g i o n should be transformed and not des1  troyed." To e f f e c t t h i s transformation three things were necessary.  F i r s t , r e l i g i o n must be shown to have a basis of v e r i f i -  able proof, e a s i l y substantiated by common experience.  Second,  the language of the Bible must be shown to be " f l u i d , passing, and l i t e r a r y , not r i g i d , fixed, and s c i e n t i f i c . "  The proof  of the f i r s t idea would of course depend upon an understanding of the second.  Third, (and here Arnold returns to h i s basic  teaching}, a background of wide and cultured reading i s necessary i n order that the Bible and other r e l i g i o u s l i t e r a t u r e may be read with dsicriraination and true discernment.  We  might b r i e f l y examine each of these predications i n turn, bearing i n mind that the f i r s t two are interdependent. Going right to the heart of the matter, Arnold declared that the conception of God as 'a Personal F i r s t Cause, the Moral and I n t e l l i g e n t Governor of the Universe', was absolutely unverifiable.  With their t r a d i t i o n a l penchant for d i a l e c -  t i c s , uhurchmen had misconstrued the simple poetry of I s r a e l , and had steeped i t i n the f a l s e l i g h t of t h e i r own metaphysical abstractions. "Our mechanical and materialising theology, with i t s insane licence of affirmation about God, i t s insane, licence of affirmation about a future state, i s r e a l l y the r e sult of the poverty and i n a n i t i o n of our minds. 1.  Laving Age.  E.  Literature and Dogma.  V o l . 177. P. 545. P. xv.  It i s because  we cannot trace God i n history that we stay the cravings of our minds with a fancy-account  of him, made up by putting scattered  expressions of the Bible together, and taxing them l i t e r a l l y . " Hence the mental picture of God as a beneficent  1  and ethereal  old gentleman, well-disposed towards the human race, but with stern and sometimes inconvenient ideas on j u s t i c e .  This was  the r e s u l t of taxing Israel's words i n an exact and s c i e n t i f i c sense, and b u i l d i n g upon that f a l l a c i o u s assumption.  "Accord-  ing to t h i s s c i e n t i f i c sense of theology, God i s a person, the great f i r s t cause, the moral and i n t e l l i g e n t governor of the universe; Jesus Christ consubstantial with him; and the Holy • •  '  '2  Ghost a person proceeding from the other two."  This concep-  t i o n of the T r i n i t y was very impressive as a metaphysical exerc i s e , remarked Arnold, but one question regarding the proof for the f i r s t assumption, and the whole structure would collapse l i k e a house of cards.  As he submitted i n h i s extended and  rather impious analogy of the three Lord Shaftesburys, the chief d i f f i c u l t y lay with the elder Lord Shaftesbury. In order to understand Arnold's attitude, we must glance at h i s basic d e f i n i t i o n s .  Ethics, conduct, morality,-  these Arnold considered to be expressions of the same idea, a p r a c t i c a l idea.  It i s an idea f a m i l i a r to a l l of us, the regu-  l a t i o n of l i f e according to certain laws, the observance of which supplies a norm f o r the operations of human society.  1.  .literature and Dogma.  2.  Ibid.  P. 13.  P. x i v .  The tremendous importance of conduct to Arnold i s shown by h i s estimation that i t comprises three-fourths of human l i f e , at the very l e a s t .  He even submitted seriously that the propor-  t i o n might be estimated at f o u r - f i f t h s or f i v e - s i x t h s , an arithmetical quibble i l l u s t r a t i v e of the latent absurdity i n such a r b i t r a r y attempts at r i g i d c l a s s i f i c a t i o n .  How r e l i g i o n ,  Arnold maintained, i s also p r a c t i c a l , i s also conduct or morality.  But i s i s morality heightened, trying to pass into another  sphere. tion .  I t i s , as he defined i t , 'morality touched with emoWherever t h i s heightening occurs we have r e l i g i o n , and  1  Arnold gave numerous examples i l l u s t r a t i n g the difference. "'Hold o f f from s e n s u a l i t y ,  ;  says Cicero; 'for, i f you have  given yourself up to i t , you w i l l f i n d yourself unable to think of  anything else'.  That i s morality.  'Blessed are the pure  in heart,' says Jesus Christ; 'for they s h a l l see God'. That is religion.  'Live as you were meant to l i v e ! ' i s morality.  'Lay hold on eternal l i f e !  1  i s religion."  Excellent as these  examples may be, they are of course subject to the same c r i t i cism as the 'touchstone' system employed by Arnold i n h i s "Study of Poetry". al l i f e  They presuppose a d i v i s i o n of the s p i r i t u -  into d i s t i n c t strata, properly indicated and controlled  by a niceness of l i t e r a r y taste and a true c u l t u r a l  background.  Even i f the idea were proved v a l i d , i t could scarcely be attractive to the majority of people, to whom the i n t u i t i v e , emot i o n a l , and p r a c t i c a l elements i n any r e l i g i o u s experience or  1.  Literature and Dogma*  P . 23.  s p i r i t u a l conviction are hardly of a nature to "bear c l a s s i f y i n g or d i s s e c t i n g .  Arnold, however, found r e l i g i o n to exist i n a  higher sphere than conduct, the sphere of righteousness.  Yet  the t r a n s i t i o n could never be effected without a regard for the profound importance of conduct.  The ancient Hebrews, with  t h e i r emphasis on morality, or conduct, found the t r a n s i t i o n inevitable.  R e l i g i o n came, and with i t the conception of an  Eternal Power. It was  at this point, said Arnold, that the theologians  went wrong, putting a t h e o r e t i c a l construction on a p r a c t i c a l idea.  The name I s r a e l used f o r t h i s Power was not conveyed  "by Jehovah, which gives us the notion of a mere mythological deity, or by a wrong t r a n s l a t i o n , Lord, which gives us the not i o n of a magnified and non-hatural man. was: The E t e r n a l . " ^  The name they used  Here Arnold i s putting h i s own p h i l o l o g i -  c a l fancy i n place of the interpretation he condemns, a weakness of which Francis Newman made c a p i t a l i n h i s scathing review of Literature and Dogma.  The Eternal, then, was the God  of the Hebrews, a conception embodied i n a word "by no means a term of science or exact knowledge, but a term of poetry and eloquence,  a term thrown out, so to speak, at a not f u l l y  grasped object of the speaker's consciousness, - a l i t e r a r y 2 term, i n short." Father?  Did I s r a e l address t h i s unseen Power as  Naturally, said Arnold, being a man he projected h i s  1.  Literature and Dogma, p. 30.  2.  Ibid.  P.. 12.  •-, .••  humanity into the mighty influence that governed, h i s l i f e *  But  s t i l l t h i s Power remained the 'not ourselves, which makes f o r righteousness', or as Arnold elsewhere describes i t ,  'the .  stream or tendency by which we f u l f i l l the law of our being'. I s r a e l did not reason things out - he f e l t and experienced. Consequently  h i s language was l i t e r a r y and approximate, not  s c i e n t i f i c and exact.  But theological gentlemen, such as the  unfortunate bishops of Winchester  and Gloucester, must develop  t h e i r talents f o r speculative reasoning and metaphysical abstractions, and so upon a few simple moral truths, clothed i n the language of poetic eloquence, was reared the whole fantast i c pseudo-science  of dogmatic theology.  "Religion has been  made to stand on i t s apex instead of i t s base; righteousness i s supported on e c c l e s i a s t i c a l dogma, instead of e c c l e s i a s t i 1 ' ' c a l dogma being supported on righteousness." The time had come to speak out, i n Arnold's opinion, and to correct these e v i l s .  People had l o s t f a i t h i n miracles  and prophecy, as expounded by the Church, and bickerings over the meaning of such terms as j u s t i f i c a t i o n , election and atonement were rapidly l o s i n g their significance*  And r i g h t l y too,  declared Arnold, f o r the emphasis a l l along, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n the Protestant Church, had been on the method of C h r i s t i a n i t y , rather than the secret. phasized repentance  The'method' was useful, since i t em-  and conversion, but the 'secret', the idea  of peace and joy, was the very heart of Christ's teaching.  1.  Literature and Dogma.  P. 291,,  The Catholic Church, with a l l i t s blind reverence for authority.,- & na  r e a l i z e d t h i s great truth, and so had preserved i t s  unity, and i t s hold over the mind of the masses.  The Protes-  tant Church may have had more l i g h t , but the Catholic r e l i g i o n had more beauty.  The wonderful secret and success of Jesus  lay i n the 'mildness and sweet reasonableness' of h i s teaching not i n a narrow-minded zeal over the defense of some misinterpreted phrase.  "When one thinks of the b i t t e r and contentious  temper of Puritanism,- temper being, nevertheless, such a vast part of .conduct,- and then thinks of St. Theresa and her sweet ness, her never-sleeping hatred of 'detraction', one i s tempted almost to say that there was more of Jesus i n St. Theresa' 1 ' l i t t l e finger than i n John Knox's whole body."  Temper here  obviously s i g n i f i e s earnestness and zeal, the q u a l i t i e s which Arnold the s o c i a l c r i t i c had found the B r i t i s h P h i l i s t i n e to possess i n abundance.  The i n a b i l i t y of the narrow-minded and  f a n a t i c a l Puritan to r e a l i z e when he was making himself ridicu. lous inspired a cutting and rather pointed comment on the f u t i l i t y of most missionary work.  "For any one who weighs the  matter well, the missionary i n c l e r i c a l coat and gaiters, whom one sees i n wood-cuts preaching to a group of picturesque O r i entals, is,: from the inadequacy of h i s c r i t i c i s m both of his hearers' r e l i g i o n and of h i s own, and h i s signal misunderstanding of the very Volume he holds i n h i s hand, a hardly less 1.  Literature and Dogma.  P.  294.  grotesque object i n h i s i n t e l l e c t u a l equipment than i n his out1  ward a t t i r e . " Arnold was p a r t i c u l a r l y severe upon a l l forms of r e l i g ious, dissent , nonconformity being to him the r e l i g i o u s side of Philistinism.  He went to great pains to show that the whole  Puritan movement was based upon a complete misunderstanding of the Pauline doctrines.of predestination and j u s t i f i c a t i o n .  In  substance, Arnold stated that the dissenting sects should r e turn to the f o l d of the Church, and enable that body to be an organ of national c o l l e c t i v e worship.  Christ's message was one  f o r i n d i v i d u a l s , but the beauty and truth of that message were best f e l t through the common humanity of man.  I f there were  e v i l s within the Church, the thing to do was to work f o r correction from within, and not to break away over some point of • scriptural interpretation.  In effect, Arnold said to the Dis-  senters:- "The Church cannot help existing; you can."  The  Evangelicals he d i d not blame so severely,- even i f they d i d base t h e i r differences upon matters of B i b l i c a l interpretation* , they d i d not actually break with the Mother Church. Dissenters, with t h e i r ' s p i r i t of watchful  But the  jealousy', with  their entire absence of the lovable virtues of joy, kindness, • patience, and mildness,- these fanatics were bringing d i s c r e d i t and sure d i s i n t e g r a t i o n upon the f a i t h as a whole.  "The Puri-  tans" , said Arnold i n h i s a r t i c l e on "Modern Dissent", "say they love righteousness,  1.  and they are offended with me for rejoining  Literature and Dogma.  P. 326.  that the righteousness of which they boast i s the righteousness of the e a r l i e r Jews i n the Old Testament, which consisted mainly i n smiting the Lord's enemies and their own under the 1 f i f t h rib,"  C h r i s t i a n righteousness, Arnold submitted, i s  something e n t i r e l y d i f f e r e n t from t h i s . The most d i s t r e s s i n g feature of the whole  business  was  to Arnold the f a i l u r e of Churchmen i n general to place the f a i t h upon a basis of deep yet understandable useless and unconvincing creeds and dogma.  truth, purged of  The  theological  athletes continued to wrestle, though the arena was fast emptying.  The Zeit-Geist had breathed upon the old theology and  metaphysics,  and something fresher and simpler and v e r i f i a b l e  must take t h e i r place.  The masses need proof, declared Mat-  thew, they want a f a i t h with a basis i n common experience, else they w i l l  'pitch the Bible to the four winds'. . "Let us go to  the masses with what I s r a e l r e a l l y did say, instead of what our 2 popular and our learned r e l i g i o n may  choose to make him  say,"  In other words, instead of the metaphysical speculations about the personal F i r s t Cause, and the T r i n i t y , and other theological abstractions, give the masses the true z*evelation of 'the enduring Power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness . 1  This i s a matter e a s i l y v e r i f i a b l e , according to Arnold, a matter of common experience. convince yourselves.  Try i t I he commanded, t r y i t and  His method of procedure, however, i s not  1.  St. Paul and Protestantism,  2,  Literature and Dogma.  P.  p. 131.  323.  only somewhat i l l o g i c a l , but could not have appealed to many of h i s readers as a potent means of strengthening a waning faith.  "Having convinced jpurself that there i s an enduring  Power, not ourselves, that makes f o r righteousness, set yours e l f next to t r y to learn more about t h i s , and to f e e l an enthusiasm f o r t h i s .  And to t h i s end, take a course of the Bible  f i r s t , and then a course of Benjamin Franklin, Horace G-reely, Jeremy Bentham and Fir. Herbert Spencer; see which has most ef1  feet, which s a t i s f i e s you most, which gives you most power," Only i n t h i s way,  said Arnold, could a man prove, voluntarily  and through h i s own experience, that the Bible i s the greatest teacher of righteousness, the only s u f f i c i e n t s o i l for nourishing three-fourths of human l i f e . truth and sweet reasonableness  Add to t h i s the gentle  of Christ's teachings,. and the  masses would have a f a i t h , the enduring power and beauty of which they would r e a l i z e and revere. i t s own  justification.  Such a r e l i g i o n would be  "The great thing, as we believe, i n  favour of such a construction as we put upon the Bible i s , that experience, as i t increases, constantly confirms i t ; and that, though i t cannot command assent, i t w i l l be found to win as-  2 sent more and more."  Experience to Arnold c l e a r l y  connotates  external experience rather than an intangible inner conviction, a loophole of which his c r i t i c s we're not slow to take advantage. 1.  L i t e r a t u r e and Dogma.  2.  Ibid.  P.  337.  P..324.  Only through t h i s proper approach to the B i b l e , and to C h r i s t i a n i t y as there revealed, could the masses ever attain to the method and secret of Jesus, and to the r e a l i z a t i o n of the necessity of righteousness'*  This approach depends upon  the a b i l i t y to read the Bible with discrimination and discernment, and t h i s a b i l i t y , i n turn, necessitates the harmonious development of that fourth of our natures devoted to culture, to art and science* Without t h i s c u l t u r a l background, we should be led astray i n our judgment,, lay emphasis upon an interdependence  Here Arnold seems to  of the elements of c u l -  ture and conduct, of H e l l i n i s m and Hebraism.  Some men. he de-  clared, have considered conduct t o be the whole of l i f e , and the r e s u l t i n g d i s t o r t i o n of the neglected fourth has suieif produced such things as "our hymns and our dogmatic theology. Y/hat i s our dogmatic theology except the mis-attribution to the B i b l e , - the Book of conduct,- of a science and an abstruse metaphysics which i s not there, because our theologians have 1 i n themselves a faculty f o r science?"  In order that conduct  should not be impaired, then, the importance of culture must be r e a l i z e d , and so Arnold propounded h i s f u l l e s t d e f i n i t i o n of God as "the Eternal Power, not ourselves, by which a l l things f u l f i l l the law of t h e i r being."  2  I cannot forego the pleasure, at this point, of refuting Mr. Kingsmill who, i n common with a good many c r i t i c s , ac~ 1.  Literature and Dogma.  2.  Ibid. P. 385.  P. 383.  cases Arnold of forsaking the c u l t u r a l standard f o r the r e l i g i o u s j of l o s i n g h i s H e l l e n i s t i c balance and plunging headlong into the sea of Hebraism.  The closing pages of l i t e r a -  ture and Dogma would hardly indicate such a right-about-face. In the d e f i n i t i o n quoted above, Arnold postulated the importance of the H e l l e n i s t i c side, the v i r t u a l synonymity of culture and conduct i n any t r u l y harmonious s p i r i t u a l growth. "As man makes progress", he said l a t e r i n a prophetic passage, "we s h a l l surely come to t h i s ; f o r , the clearer our conceptions i n science and art become, the more w i l l they assimilate themselves to the conceptions of duty i n conduct, w i l l become p r a c t i c a l l y stringent l i k e rules of conduct, and w i l l invite 1  the same sort of language i n dealing with them."  The love  of science was already distinguished by the same energy and honesty c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the o l d zeal f o r conduct.  "To treat  science with the same kind of seriousness as conduct does seem, therefore, to be a not impossible thing f o r the Aryan genius 2 to come to." "But", added Matthew, " f o r a l l this man i s hard2 l y yet r i p e . "  That was the point,- the masses were s t i l l pre-  eminently concerned with conduct, and the God of the Bible was still  'the Eternal who makes f o r righteousness'. And yet "even  for apprehending t h i s God of the Bible r i g h t l y and not wrongly, l e t t e r s , which so many people disparage, and what we c a l l , i n general, culture, seem to be necessary." 1.  l i t e r a t u r e and Dogma.  2.  Ibid.  P. 386.  While the tone of reviews ran the gamut from horror to enthusiasm, the widespread interest aroused by Arnold's a t t i tude to r e l i g i o n i s indicated by the simple f a c t , already noted, that four editions of Literature and Dogma were called for before the end of 1873.  In a l e t t e r to a French friend i n  March of that year, Arnold commented on h i s sudden popularity, and added a reason.  " I I n'y a qu'un mois q u ' i l est publie',  ( i . e . L i t e r a t u r e and Dogma)et deja i l en est a sa troisieme eaition.  C'est grace a. son sujet et a 1'interet que l e public  y prend; car, en general, tout ce qui vient de moi s'eeoule , 1 tres lentement."  In America, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n the New  England  states, the book had a tremendous vogue, and Arnold was  fre-  quently t o l d on h i s lecture tour that Literature and Dogma had been h e l p f u l as well as i n t e r e s t i n g .  The book was also trans-  lated into French, though Arnold makes no comment on i t s sale. More a r t i c u l a t e than t h i s popular interest, though possibly l e s s s i g n i f i c a n t , were the pens of c r i t i c s .  The Established  Churchmen seemed to regard him i n a f r i e n d l y manner, although i t must have been rather t r y i n g to smile at a champion who  was  at the same time seeking to demolish the age-old labours of theologians.  But the Dissenting sects had,not even this  am-  biguous support to comfort them, and the Don Quixotes of Nonconformity t i l t e d t h e i r theological lances j o y f u l l y ,  Arnold's  attempt, to e s t a b l i s h a d e f i n i t e theory of B i b l e - study must h: \'. have seemed a Heaven-sent apportunity to the victims of h i s 1.  .betters.  Y o l . E.  P. 92.  habitual irony. In 1871, when Literature  and Dogma f i r s t appeared i n  a r t i c l e form i n the u o r n h i l l , a review i n the Spectator considered Arnold's paper to be mere quibbling.  How,  asked the  writer i r r i t a b l y , are we to separate the 'stream or tendency making f o r righteousness''from any other stream or tendency? This d e f i n i t i o n was a continual source of amusement or exasperation to Arnold's reviewers.  A scathing commentary i n  Blackwood's of 1873 declared h i s work to be typical- of "the half-Informed and s u p e r f i c i a l minds which an 'age of progress' 1 .never f a i l s to produce i n multitudes." intelligence  The book showed less  and earnestness than Arnold's usual work, while  his f a u l t s appeared i n t h e i r most aggravated form.  Yet what  could one expect, when "theology nowadays i s considered to be an open pasture-ground on which l i t e r a r y adventurers may  dis-  port themselves, and whet their appetite for speculation and 1 culture."  Arnold's d e f i n i t i o n s , the writer insisted, were as  dogmatic as the doctrines he decried, and two weaknesses were apparent i n h i s reasoning,  i ' i r s t , r e l i g i o u s truth needs no  v e r i f i c a t i o n - i t i s an internal experience.  God i s within.  Secondly, conduct or righteousness i s a matter of inward ••• f a i t h , - the enduring Power i s not outwardly v e r i f i a b l e .  The  a r t i c l e concluded with a rebuke for the audacity of ' l i t e r a r y c r i t i c s ' who dabble i n a s c i e n t i f i c f i e l d , and a l o y a l assertion that "the labours of dogmatic theologians have sought to 1.  Living Age.  .Vol. 118. P. 39.  organize the highest ideas of the Church from age to age."  1  Arnold would have smiled t o l e r a n t l y at that statement, and remarked that the unsystematic  searchings of a l i t e r a r y manners  necessary i n destroying the pseudo-scientific fabrications of dogmatists. Francis Newman, s t i l l smarting from Arnold's  treatment  of him i n the Homer controversy, "became exceedingly caustic 2 over the l a t t e r ' s attempts to expound B i b l i c a l l o r e .  Trying  to v e r i f y the external and Eternal Power by personal experience Newman branded as the act of a f o o l .  Arnold's theories  were wholly Pantheistic, and h i s blindness to the value of i n t u i t i o n , as opposed to external experience, opened the way to irreligion.  He was blind to history i n trying to yoke the  Church with the State.  His flippancy and acerbity were d i s -  agreeable , and he a r b i t r a r i l y made h i s selections from the Bible on the basis of an allegedly superior c u l t u r a l perception This, declared Newman, would seem "to pass a sentence of moral death on the vast majority of mankind, and leave them no course but to make the few 'men of culture' mediators, who w i l l give them sure information what words have the certain stamp of Jesus."  Arnold's r e l i g i o n was one f o r the few, the r i c h . -  This c r i t i c i s m pales before Arnold's evident desire that the Bible should be made accessible to the 'lapsed masses', though i t i s excusable  enough when we r e a l i z e how d i c t a t o r i a l and  1.  L i v i n g Age.  Vol. 118. P. 39.  2.  Eraser's Magazine.  Yol. 88. P. 114.  supercilious h i s manner must have seemed to many of his readers,  indeed, Newman's s t r i c t u r e s thus f a r have much i n com-  mon with the general c r i t i c a l reaction, talcing advantage as they do of the numerous openings which Arnold wittingly or unwittingly offered h i s enemies.  F i n a l l y , Newman made the c u r i -  ous statement that Literature and Dogma was v i r t u a l l y an apology to Bishop Colenso.  An examination of Arnold's a r t i c l e on  the worthy Bishop shows us that he was as l i t t l e l i k e l y to condone the exegetieal t r i f l i n g of Colenso as he was to admire the metaphysical acrobatics of Winchester and Gloucester. The admiration he displayed f o r Spinoza, and h i s sense of the l a t ter's strength as opposed to Colenso's f e b r i l i t y , would hardly indicate a possible compromise with Churchmen.  " I f the Eng-  l i s h clergy must e r r " , remarked Arnold of Colenso's attempts at B i b l i c a l interpretation, " l e t them learn from this outcast of I s f a e l ( i . e . Spinoza) to err nobly."  1  To pass at one bound from the unfavourable reviews just quoted to the other extreme, I s h a l l glance at an a r t i c l e i n the Contemporary Review of 187E, by Llewelyn Davies. Arnold's creed may be regarded as "one of the three or four leading 'Gospels' of t h i s speculative age.  Another standard  has been raised fot d i s s a t i s f i e d i n t e l l e c t s to follow; and there are c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s of Mr. Arnold's creed which are l i k e l y to make i t , to a large section of Englishmen, more a t t r a c t i v e than any r i v a l . "  2  Arnold i s no t r i f l e r - i n  1. Macmillan's Magazine, v o l , 7. P. 241. 2 . Contemporary Review. Vol. 21. P. 842,  spite of h i s r a i l l e r y he i s engaged i n a sincere defence of the B i b l e .  Davies, with more perspicuity than Newman, does  seize on one of Arnold's main points,- that Jesus came to 'restore the i n t u i t i o n ' , and that His greatness lay i n His immense superiority as a man. The followers of Christ had been responsible f o r the theological doctrines, the 'Aberglaube'.  The only f a u l t Davies has to f i n d i s with the  impersonal, abstract nature of a 'stream' or 'tendency', which could never, he f e e l s , arouse reverence i n the hearts of the masses.  The idea of Love i s wanting i n Arnold's God  and Christ, yet Davies condones even t h i s blemish by suggest i n g that i t i s Arnold's r e a c t i o n to the over-emphasis of the age on brotherhood and humanity.  A l l i n a l l , he decides,  Arnold has made a very r e a l and laudable contribution to the study of the B i b l e . In order properly to estimate the importance of t h i s most controversial section of Arnold's writing, however, we must take the opinions o f prominent  essayists, c r i t i c s and man  of l e t t e r s over a period of time - such men as L e s l i e  Stephen,  R. H. Hutton, H. D. T r a i l l , F. H. Bradley, Professor Saintsbury and Herbert Paul.  Of t h i s representative group, to  a l l of whom Arnold was a l i v i n g personality, and most of whom are l i v i n g p e r s o n a l i t i e s to the l i t e r a r y world of today, only two were decidedly h o s t i l e to Matthew's theological work. Bradley, i n 1876, declared emphatically that "the ideal of personal morality i s not enough f o r r e l i g i o n " , 1.  E t h i c a l Studies.  P. 315.  1  and condemned  the 'Eternal, not ourselves' as so much l i t e r a r y clap-trap. People, Bradley submitted, needed something more to worship than Arnold's 'copy-book heading God'.  His d e f i n i t i o n s were  hopeless, so many t h i n abstractions with a l i t e r a r y varnish. Bradley condemned Arnold's 'culture' on the grounds that i t could not see a t h i r d sphere beyond the t h i n abstractions and the coarse, ' v e r i f i a b l e ' f a c t s , though just what h i s concept i o n of t h i s t h i r d sphere was Bradley did not bother to explain.  Professor Saint sb ury,  too, i n h i s excellent but a r b i -  t r a r y summation of Arnold's good and bad points, becomes p o s i t i v e l y annoyed over the spectacle of Matthew obstinately wandering i n a t h e o l o g i c a l wilderness, searching f o r 'Dead Sea fruit'.  There was an excuse, apparently, f o r Culture and  Anarchy, but the good Professor finds Arnold a t o t a l m i s f i t i n theological c i r c l e s , and unhesitatingly dubs Literature and Dogma 'his worst book'.  1  More temperate and considered are the arraignments by Stephen, T r a i l l and Hutton.  Stephen, i n defending the Dissen-  t e r s , pointed out that a stiff-necked and unmanageable hierarchy had occasioned the Wesleyan r e v o l t i n the f i r s t place. A re-union was perhaps desirable, but the Church of England i t s e l f had become but another sect i n the popular mind. Stephen had no sympathy with Arnold's State project, arguing that the State necessarily works by compulsion, and while he agreed with Arnold as to the e v i l s of the present chaotic  1.  Matthew Arnold.  1902.  secular system, he f e l t that i t was better than a r e l i g i o u s order which should r e s t upon p o s i t i v e l e g i s l a t i o n , and not upon s a t i s f a c t i o n to the r e l i g i o u s i n s t i n c t s .  Such a unity,  too, would depend upon the dropping of certain d o c t r i n a l differences; and how,asked Stephen, was Arnold or anyone else to d i f f e r e n t i a t e between the 'essential doctrines' and 'accidental accretions'?  the  A f t e r a l l , what Arnold considered to  be accretions were to the majority of people essential i f any f a i t h was  to be sustained at a l l .  1  In h i s a r t i c l e on "Neo-Christianity and Mr. Matthew Arnold", w r i t t e n i n 1884,  H. D. T r a i l l displayed an equal  sympathy with Arnold's aim, and a similar c e r t a i n t y that the aim could never be r e a l i z e d by an interpretation of the Bible as a l l vague and poetic eloquence. never appeal to the masses.  Such a doctrine could  Arnold, said T r a i l l , took a good  dual basis - righteousness, with Christ as the model - but t h i s he regarded as a s l i g h t s p i r i t u a l framework around which to construct a whole modernized C h r i s t i a n i t y . i t y of the new  "The  superior-  deal must be an i n t e l l e c t u a l superiority; for  the d i f f i c u l t y of the doubters i s an i n t e l l e c t u a l one." Arnold was  2  f u l l y aware of t h i s , admitted T r a i l l , but the  substitute offered was no more v e r i f i a b l e than the system to be replaced.  He admired Arnold's ingenuity i n using a  1.  Eraser's Magazine. Vol. 82.  2.  Contemporary Review.  P.  Vol. 45.  414. P.  564.  stumbling-block f o r a stepping-stone, describing him as "the f i r s t teacher who has i n s i s t e d ^vith equal force on a r e l i g i o n which men have led  begun to question, and upon the documents which 1  them to question,"  Such teaching, however, was super-  fluous, because those i n agreement could devise their own accommodation; and f u t i l e , since i t was assured of rejection by both atheist and fundamentalist.  Yet T r a i l l concluded h i s  review with this f i n e tribute to Arnold's power;  "More of us  have been compelled by him than by any other writer of our age and country to review and revise our judgments upon most sub1. jects of human i n t e r e s t , " Which remark, may l submit i n passing, i s hardly the sort of comment one would expect on a writer whose work i s at a l l superfluous or f u t i l e . Comparing Cardinal Newman (the past) with Matthew Arnold (the Z e i t - G e i s t ) , R.H. Hutton found the extremes to which each man went a sign of the utter i n s t a b i l i t y , i n that 2 day and age, of the most serious convictions.  Arnold was  bewailing the loss of that very f a i t h he was helping to destroy, and leaving himself, i n the words of h i s own poem,*Standing between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born.* Hutton apparently did not share Arnold's b e l i e f that he was not a s s i s t i n g at the death of an old Christianity, but at the  1.  Contemporary Review.  2.  Ibid,  V o l . 49.  V o l . 45.  P. 327.  P. 564  r e - b i r t h of a new.  Like Stephen and T r a i l l , he was  convinced  that something more anthropomorphic than a stream or tendency was necessary, i f r e l i g i o n was to be preserved f o r the masses. "The  emotion which Mr. Arnold i n s i s t s on becomes a very mild  and aesthetic emotion indeed." ing,  1  Arnold valued Christ's teach-  not as a disclosure of f a i t h , but "because i t discloses  the true secret of l i f e . " Hutton, that "we  His writings tended to prove, said  can get a l l the advantages of theology with-  out the theology."  Probably T. S. E l i o t had t h i s idea i n mind  when he recently remarked, i n more modern terminology, that Arnold's counsel was "to get a l l the emotional kick out of C h r i s t i a n i t y one can, without the bother of believing i t . "  2  If we were concerned with the v a l i d i t y or f u t i l i t y of Arnold's r e l i g i o u s tenets, there are various c r i t i c i s m s here with which we could p r o f i t a b l y take issue.  We might disagree  with Stephen when he described Arnold's v i s i o n of a unified Church as impossible, with T r a i l l when he c a l l s Arnold's teaching superfluous, or with Hutton when he sighs at the spectacle of a man to preserve.  tearing down the very f a i t h that he wishes  But my purpose i s rather to estimate i n some  degree the influence of Matthew Arnold's essays, and enough has been demonstrated, I think, to prove that even his 'Lead Sea f r u i t ' found a market.  The interest was broad and  genuine,  as the reception accorded to Literature and Dogma shows, and  1.  Contemporary Review.  2.  Bookman.  Vol. 72.  Vol. 49.  P. 1.  P.327  c r i t i c a l opinion flu.ctu.atea over a period, of some t h i r t y years.  The comparative neglect since the turn of the century  i s due, as I have indicated, to two very good reasons. that was  Much  s t a r t l i n g or shocking to h i s contemporaries i s now  commonplace; and, secondly, theological controversy i s as dead, to a l l general interest, as Balaam's ass.  That  Arnold's aim was l a r g e l y misunderstood by the majority of h i s c r i t i c s i s very evident, and there i s a glimpse of the truth i n the following statement by Myers.  "He has been treated as  a f l i p p a n t and i l l u s o r y Christian, instead of a spec i a l l y devout and conservative A g n o s t i c " ! A more cogent c r i t i c i s m , however, i s contained i n these words.  "His own attachment to  C h r i s t i a n i t y was undoubtedly such that he could not part with i t ; and therein l i e s h i s weakness."2 Writing i n 1902, Herbert Paul takes a more lenient view of Matthew's theological  s a l l i e s than does Saintsbury,  and finds them to contain matters of interest and p r o f i t . But the discussion must be gently handled, f o r he knows "the treacherous f i r e s which are s t i l l banked beneath those ashes."  3  The ashes have since cooled, but i n the decade or  so following Arnold's death they were continually s t i r r e d by  1.  l i v i n g Age.  Vol. 177.  2.  Ibid.  3.  Matthew Arnold. 1902  Vol. 264.  P. 545  P.349.  a thoughtful, and. on the whole favourable c r i t i c a l breeze. It i s true that Gladstone spoke of Arnold as 'patronizing a Christ o f h i s own creation', but Arnold's l i f e l o n g opposition to the great statesman may have had something to do with the pungency of that s a l l y .  The Christ may have been of Arnold's  own creation, but we have a writer i n the Mation of 1888 vouching f o r the f a c t that Arnold had provided younger people with a p l a u s i b l e creed at a time when M i l l , Huxley and others had destroyed t h e i r interest i n theology, John Burroughs and Augustine B i r r e l l 3  4  1  W. C. Brownell,  2  a l l t e s t i f y to a  r e v i v a l of i n t e r e s t i n Bible study, owing c h i e f l y to the influenoe of Matthew Arnold.  This c r i t i c a l chorus i s rather  weighty evidence, backed as i t i s by the actual popularity of L i t e r a t u r e and Dogma. Passing back to England, we find Arnold described as "a great sedative force i n a disturbed i n t e l l e c t u a l system."^ Of a piece with t h i s t r i b u t e i s a comment by one D. F. Hanigan i n 1896,- "He i s rather the interpreter of the s p i r i t of the age than a prophet or leader."6  1. Nation.  This was the attitude adopted  Vol. 46 P. 315.  2. Scribner's Magazine.  Vol. 30. P. 105.  3. Century. Vol. 36. P. 185. 4.  Scribner's Magazine. Vol. 4. P. 537  5. L i v i n g Age. Vol. 264. P. 349. 6. Westminster Review.  Vol. 145. P. 40.  i n l a t e r years by the more judicious c r i t i c s .  The last-named  writer amplified h i s remark with a singularly f i n e l i n e of praise.  "He  taught h i s fellow-countrymen to associate  happiness, and not misery, with righteousness." salutary lessonl  1  What a  And the tribute would seem to be substan-  t i a t e d by the following quotation.  "In an era of r e l i g i o u s  pessimism he sustained a moderate and i n t e l l i g e n t optimism. He found theology a science and l e f t i t an a r t .  If  theology can never be again quite the unlovely thing i t once was,  that i s due  i n large measure to the influence of Matthew  Arnold."^  Whether overly-enthusiastic or not, the writer h as c e r t a i n l y understood Arnold's aims, and I can conceive of fetw compliments which would have given him more s a t i s f a c t i o n . Brownell t e s t i f i e d i n a similar vein to the nature of Arnold's r e l i g i o u s influence, an influence imperfectly perceived.  His gospel was  so simple as to be s t a r t l i n g - no  one, f o r a time, knew what he meant. from Brownell<?s a r t i c l e of 1901,  And here, i n a sentence  we have what I f e e l to be the  crux of the matter, the point which I have t r i e d to emphasize. "The whole thinking world has p r a c t i c a l l y , i f insensibly, come to adopt h i s view that the sanction of r e l i g i o n i s i t s natural truth."  3  Insensibly we have come to adopt his view, and i n  the meantime Matthew Arnold's anxiety and genuine concern for  1. Westminster Review. Vol. 145. 2. L i v i n g Age. Vol. 264.  P.  P. 40  349.  3. Scribner's Magazine. Vol. 30. P.  105.  that view are forgotten.  But i t proves, what few of h i s  c r i t i c s would allow, that he worked f o r a suffering present and not a Utopian future.  He who wanted to conduct h i s  fellows into the cool lanes of straight and clear thinking, the supereilious and f a s t i d i o u s professor of b e l l e s - l e t t r e s , was not as aloof from the 'heat and burden of the day' as h i s deelaimers maintained.  He may have f a i l e d signally i n much  that he set out to do, but he w i l l have glorious company. His work may not always have been happy i n conception or f o r tunate i n r e s u l t , but I can think o f no more f e l i c i t o u s epitaph f o r Arnold the s o c i a l c r i t i c and r e l i g i o u s reformer than t h i s statement  i n the year of h i s death.  "He has done  well f o r h i s day and generation, i n helping to keep a l i v e the f a i t h of the race i n the nobler p o s s i b i l i t i e s of human existence."  1  1. Nation.  Vol. 46. P. 315.  It has been my aim i n t h i s essay to present Matthew Arnold i n the role of a r e l i g i o u s reformer and a s o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l c r i t i c , at the same time estimating h i s influence b an examination and discussion of c r i t i c a l and popular reactions.  His poetry and l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s m I have endeavoured  to deal with .only insofar as i t throws l i g h t on t h i s particul a r study, and supplies us with an understanding of Arnold's mental growth and s p i r i t u a l t r a n s i t i o n s .  The task of u n i f i c a  t i o n has not been thoroughly done, and I am sorrowfully aware of the numerous flaws i n the p o r t r a i t .  But i f the p o r t r a i t ,  with the troubled and dreamy eyes of the i d e a l i s t gazing from beneath a brow of i n t e l l e c t u a l power,•is at a l l v i s i b l e through the intervening shadows of my inadequacies, then the study i s j u s t i f i e d . Before leaving him, however, it'should be interesting to discuss the 'gospel of culture' i n the l i g h t of subsequent developments.  And before glancing at present-day conditions',  beside which the P h i l i s t i n i s m of Arnold's day loses some of i t s potency, we might t r y to ascertain the p o s i t i o n of 'sweetness and l i g h t ' i n the years immediately  following h i s death.  Bearing Arnold's teachings i n mind, l e t us turn to an a r t i c l e of 1892, e n t i t l e d , s i g n i f i c a n t l y enough, "Culture and Anarchy" It i s an exceedingly caustic review of three contemporary  n o v e l i s t s - Thomas Hardy, J.H. Shorthou.se, and Mrs. Humphrey Ward.  The merits of the a r t i c l e as a review of these writers  do not concern us - suffice i t to say that the c r i t i c finds Hardy coarse, disagreeable  and rather grotesque;  Shorthouse  i s a s i c k l y example of super-refined semi-culture; Ward i s tiresome and obvious.  and  Mrs.  That the writers have done  good work and have genuine a b i l i t y , at least i n the case of the two men,  the c r i t i c admits.  What i s more important for  our purpose i s the reviewer's lengthy and b i t t e r declamation against the s p i r i t u a l vulgarity and amazing lack of taste prevalent i n English society and English l i t e r a t u r e .  The  three  novels he has just reviewed he finds to be prime examples, and the whole regrettable business i s the r e s u l t of the d i s t o r t i o n of the meaning of culture.  The nation has  ture', as the Americans would say.  How  p s e u d o - i n t e l l e c t u a l i t y come about?  The writer answers h i s  question.  "We  'got cul-  has this spasm of own  fear that Matthew Arnold has something to ans-  wer f o r ; but i n saying t h i s we must emphatically  protest  against being thought to cast any reproach on that distinguished man,  or to refuse to recognize  the humanizing influence 1  that i n many ways he has exercised on his generation."  Yet  i n the novels of such writers as Shorthouse and Mrs. Ward, says our reviewer, the 'sweetness' has become saccharine, the  ' l i g h t ' i s worse than dim.  and  "The history of a l l reforma-  tions shows that the work of their leaders w i l l almost i n e v i t 1.  Quarterly Review.  Vol. 174.  P.  339.  ably f o r a time be hindered and discredited by the violence, the  f o l l y , and the extravagance of a few d i s c i p l e s *  A revolu-  tionary age w i l l always breed imposters, and the f i r s t i n s t i n c t of the imposter w i l l always be to advertisement."^ The very thing that Arnold foresaw so c l e a r l y , and fought against so strenously has come about, and by the irony of Fate h i s own doctrines, through the misinterpretation of f o o l s , have been responsible.  " I n t e l l e c t u a l Democracy has  triumphed", c r i e s the reviewer b i t t e r l y , "our struggle after 2  culture has developed into anarchy."  The remedy Arnold ad-  vocated was improved higher and secondary education, which would f i l t e r down and gradually emancipate the human mind. But neither i n England nor America "was the serious higher i n s t r u c t i o n strong enough to give the tone to the popular i n struction; the element of culture was not s u f f i c i e n t to leaven the  whole mass.  Instead of proving the master, therefore, i t  has been made the slave; and no?/ bound to the car o f Demos i s led  i n the popular triumph, a spectacle and a show."  Evi-  dences of t h i s were only too p l e n t i f u l , and none of the phases of the new enlightment were promising. ter  Of Shorthouse the wri-  remarked,- "The sentimentality, the puling melancholy, the  assumption of learning, of grace and refinement - i n a word a l l the 'sweetness' of the New Culture - are paramount i n his 4 l a s t work." 1.  Quarterly review.  3.  Ibid.  Vol. 174, P. 4.. Ibid.  339. 2. P. 344.  Ibid.  P. 340.  Hot only i n l i t e r a t u r e had Arnold's ideals suffered maltreatment.  The f a i t h and ardour he longed for had been ap-  p l i e d to the ends he most detested - to a blind worship of s o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l f e t i s h e s ,  "The demand f o r more education;  1  our exasperated reviewer continues, "and especially f o r what i s l u d i c r o u s l y miscalled the higher education among women, i t s e l f a part of the f o o l i s h misconception of woman's true place i n the world which goes by the name of Woman's Rights, the general array f o r party purposes of the Masses against the Classes,- a l l these things, aided by the extraordinary.increase of cheap l i t e r a t u r e , and especially by the translations, hand-books, primers, and other multifarious short-cats to learning, have combined to defeat Mr. Arnold's plan, and to turn the r e a l sweetness and r e a l l i g h t which he advocated into what he most dreaded,- into sweetness which i s mere vulgar aff e c t a t i o n , and into l i g h t which i s blank darkness."  Undoubt-  1  edly t h i s tirade has the stamp of a die-hard Tory of the old school, but i t i s equally obvious that the writer has analyzed the situation with a r e a l understanding of Arnold's distrust of temporary ends, and h i s d i s l i k e f o r s u p e r f i c i a l i t y .  "Much of  the mischief, we v e r i l y believe, came from Mr. Arnold's tan2 t a l i z i n g use of the word P h i l i s t i n e . "  In their anxiety to es-  cape the odious c l a s s i f i c a t i o n , everybody had become advocates of culture, without understanding that the acquisition of c u l ture, as Arnold v i s u a l i z e d i t , i s a slow and thorough process.. 1.  Quarterly Review.  Vol. 174.  P. 341.  2.  Ibid.  Instead of g i v i n g t h e i r minds to a study of 'the hest that has been thought and said i n the world', and applying t h i s accumul a t e d wisdom to l i f e , society had mistaken intention for accomplishment, and by a simple right-about-face considered i t s e l f on the high-road to the c u l t u r a l Utopia. was  This attitude  responsible f o r the l i t e r a r y f r o t h , and the half-informed,  s u p e r f i c i a l teachers of c u l t u r e .  "Having read that true c u l -  ture w i l l not be content with the mere enjoyment of sweetness and l i g h t , but w i l l endeavour to make the passion for them p r e v a i l , they assume the o f f i c e of teacher, and endeavour to 1 make their notions of sweetness and l i g h t p r e v a i l . " My copious quotations from t h i s fire-breathing c r i t i c could only be excused on the dual grounds of truth and appliea bility.  That there i s a large amount of truth i n the a r t i c l e  I am confident, and that i t applies to us 'moderns' as f u l l y , i f not i n the same way,  as i t did to the misguided contempora-  r i e s of the c r i t i c , I am equally sure.  Many, of this genera-  t i o n at l e a s t , would glance at the a r t i c l e , and with a tolerant smile f o r the Yellow Nineties and a sneer for the eompara tive s t e r i l i t y of the Edwardian period would murmur,truei"  But what i s our own position?  "How  Let us have one more  statement from the b i t t e r gentleman i n the Quarterly of forty years ago.  " A l l the t r i v i a l i t i e s of our literature(nor of our  l i t e r a t u r e only, but i t i s with t h i s that we are at present concerned)its a f f e c t a t i o n s , i t s shallowness,  1.  Quarterly Review.  Vol. 174.  P.  342.  v u l g a r i t i e s , im-  109 pudence, are attributed to the fact that another century of the 1 world's course i s nearing i t s end."  After the turn of the  century, i n the opinion of many, an equilibrium would be established, and society would take a step towards the ultimate perfection.  A sketch of our present c u l t u r a l environment may  show us how some of Arnold's ideals have fared, and whether the s t r i c t u r e s of our reviewer have l o s t their pungency. In education h i s dream of State control has largely come true, p a r t i c u l a r l y on t h i s continent, the America for which at times he expressed  such high hopes.  But instead of  the general standard being commensurate with h i s vision, the bursting of the dikes has spread a thin layer of educational f l u i d over the public mind.  Concentration has given way to  d i f f u s i o n , and painstaking care has gone to providing the moron with the same opportunities as the potential genuis, with the general result that the moron i s discontented and the genius i s cramped.  I f a certain curriculum i s not congenial  the p u p i l i s fed some more digestible pap, and his passage through the H a l l s of Learning made easier, u n t i l , with a bewildering variety of 'courses' behind him, and a naive f a i t h in the additional commercial value of education, he t h r i l l s i n h i s thousands to the sonorous benediction of the 'Admitto Te'. With the educational f a c t o r i e s of America i n f u l l operation, the only degree that represents achievement nowadays i n academic eyes i s the doctorate, which w i l l probably have to be 1.  Quarterly Review.  Vol. 174. P. 334.  superseded ere long by some more potent combination of l e t t e r s . Since writing the above I have been fortunate enough to come across a copy of Our Business C i v i l i z a t i o n , by James Truslow Adams, and my own random remarks have been amply substantiated by what I have read therein.  After describing the  impregnation of the academic f i e l d by modern "power and service" aims, and his. d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n with the mechanical and f u t i l e nature of h i s own the following comment.  'pre-war' education, Mr. Adams makes " I f i t be objected that things are  d i f f e r e n t today, I may add that I see no evidence of i t ; i n stead I see an even greater confusion of aim and method.  Hot  long ago I asked a well-known professor at one of the largest and best-known u n i v e r s i t i e s i n the East  what, i n h i s candid  opinion, h i s university did f o r the many thousands of students who  annually attended i t .  After a moment's thought he said  that as f a r as he could see, the university turned out a standardized, low-grade mental product, much l i k e an i n t e l l e c t u a l Ford f a c t o r y . "  1  This ascendancy  of the materialist and  the wholesaler has naturally hastened the growing  tendency,  noticeable, as we have seen, even i n Arnold's day, to emphasize the commercial  rather than the c u l t u r a l value of education.  '^1 think that America i s the only c i v i l i z e d country i n the world where what a man does counts f o r so much more than what he i s , and where the general public, having no c u l t u r a l standard by which to judge what a man  1.  i s , takes as the basis of  Our Business C i v i l i z a t i o n . P. 150.  appraisal solely the v i s i b l e signs of what presumably he has •done'.  1,1  In academic work p a r t i c u l a r l y i s this true - i t i s  imperative i n most American u n i v e r s i t i e s that a man possess his Ph. i). l a b e l i f he i s to progress f a r i n the teaching profession. This stress upon doing; rather upon being i s , as Mr. Adams points out, the result of confusing the two kinds of , education,- that which t e l l s us how to make a l i v i n g and that which t e l l s us how to l i v e .  Such a confusion, he submits,  could never exist i n "the mind of any man who has the faintest i n k l i n g of what culture i s " .  Formerly a man learned his  trade or profession i n the shop or o f f i c e , and expected of h i s .education only that i t should enrich h i s l i f e and eid i n a harmonious s p i r i t u a l growth by teaching the proper and i n t e l l i gent use of h i s l e i s u r e time.  The complications and strenuous  hurry of modern l i f e , however, have tended to make a l i b e r a l education synonymous with business and professional t r a i n i n g , with the result that the idea of a l i b e r a l education as a guide and stimulant i n the l i f e - l o n g process of acquiring culture has been subordinated almost to the disappearing point.  Culture, continues Mr. Adams i n a passage which i n d i -  cates quite c l e a r l y where h i s i n t e l l e c t u a l sympathies l i e , " i s a much misused word and has come to have a very feminine and anaemic connotation i n America.  There have been innumer-  1. Our Business C i v i l i z a t i o n . P. 151. 2. Ibid.  P. 169.  able d e f i n i t i o n s , but we may quote one of Matthew Arnold's as being as suggestive as any f o r our purpose.  He speaks of c u l -  ture as 'a harmonious expansion of a l l the powers which make the beauty and worth of human nature.  1  This i s f a r removed  from g i v i n g the degree of Bachelor of Arts to a student who has learned how to truss and dress poultry or has compassed the mysteries of how to s e l l r e a l estate and run an apartment house. To avoid being branded as an utter reactionary, I must confess that the preceding paragraphs present only one side of the case.  Broad and progressive educational f a c i l i -  t i e s are not only desirable, but inevitable, i f we are ever to shake o f f the f e t t e r s of ignorance and prejudice.  But we  have sunk t o a deadly l e v e l of mediocrity, the very thing that Arnold most dreaded.  The half-humorous prophecy he made of an  age where 'everyone has some cultures, and superiorities are discountenanced' has been f u l f i l l e d only too p a i n f u l l y . People have been taught to read, but not to think.  An enor-  mously widened reading public, primarily desirous of amusement and entertainment, has resulted i n a corresponding deluge of effervescent and t r i v i a l l i t e r a t u r e .  The c r i t i c a l  standards Arnold t r i e d to affirm have f a l l e n before the onslaughts of 'democracy', and the reading public docilely accepts the h y s t e r i c a l superlatives of half-fledged reviewers. A r o t t e n f a b r i c of sexual monstrosities, held together by the mere suspicion of a p l o t , must not be condemned i f you would 1. Our Business C i v i l i z a t i o n .  P. 169.  avoid being c a l l e d V i c t o r i a n .  And i f a mass of i l l - a s s o r t e d  and t r i v i a l thought, dressed i n bad spelling and no punctuation f a i l s to impress you as a masterpiece inaugurating a new era, you are contemptuously  consigned to the limbo of i n t e l l e c t u a l  Babbitry. There are reasons f o r this laxness, of course.  The  novel, l e s s of a demand on the i n t e l l e c t than poetry, has become the form of l i t e r a t u r e , the outcome of a natural, steady growth since the days of F i e l d i n g .  With the excellent and  a r t i s t i c examples that are a part of our inheritance, including  such modern and congenial writers as Hardy, Conrad and  Stevenson, to mention only a few, one might expect some d i s crimination on the part of the general reader.  Such writers  as these, a f t e r a l l , are included i n our educational c u r r i cula.  But either because they are inadequately taught, or  because the average mind i s incapable (0 blasphemy against Demos I) of d i f f e r e n t i a t i n g between good and bad, the great majority who  'go through college without having college go  through them' seem to f a l l a victim to every l i t e r a r y charlatan  who  can persuade a publisher to forget h i s waste-basket.  It would be i d l e to pretend that splendid books have not been written i n recent years, books whose very proximity prevents an estimate of t h e i r permanence.  From Hamsun's Growth of the  S o i l to A l l e n ' s Anthony Adverse, novels have been produced whose q u a l i t i e s might well breed optimism i n the prophet.  A  large number of novelists, however, would do well to ponder Arnold's reply to an admirer who  asked why he had not written  a novel.  His .answer was to the effect that the genius of the  Arnolds did not l i e i n that direction, or he would have written one long before. The decided tone of disapproval i n some of my remarks may  convey the impression that I regard contemporary trends i n  l i t e r a t u r e as e s s e n t i a l l y unsound.  Far from that, I believe  that experiments i n both form and content are not only natural but commendable, i f l i t e r a t u r e i s to interpret l i f e  faithfully.  But  trivial  the tendency to regard any theme, no matter how  disagreeable, as being i t s own  or  j u s t i f i c a t i o n m i l i t a t e s , I am  sure, against t r u t h and permanence i n l i t e r a t u r e .  The Art for  Art's Sake theory has been responsible f o r some degenerate and d i s t o r t e d views among writers, and while I do not  maintain  that a novel or a poem should co ntain a 'message', I f e e l that Arnold's broad a p p l i c a t i o n of the word 'moral' embodies a truth the profundity of which i s not f u l l y appreciated.  In support  of this idea, I s h a l l quote from E. J. O'Brien's introduction to  his l a t e s t c o l l e c t i o n of short stories.  After discussing  Sherwood Anderson and Ernest Hemingway as the most promising creators of the American short story he says:  ."It i s the  a r t i s t ' s function to illuminate to the best of h i s a b i l i t y a l l the dark places and to help us to l i v e i n the l i g h t of our day.  He may  new  also a s s i s t us to select what i s valuable i n the  materials with whieh we have to work, and insofar as he succeeds i n t h i s attempt h i s work w i l l be a valuable c r i t i c i s m of l i f e i n Matthew Arnold's sense of the word." 1. Best Short Stories of 1933.  1  Intro. P.  xviii.  Focussing our attention upon the l a s t decade, we might adduce an added reason f o r the f a i l u r e of the novel to f i n d i t s a r t i s t i c feet.  Although an obstacle operative only within re-  cent years i t has been, I f e e l , an important one.  The novel  has been regarded as a form of entertainment, a mental anodyne, forced to compete with the movies, the radio, and the popular magazine f o r a place i n the f i c k l e regard of the public. C r i t i c a l standards have become sympathetically lax, and the r e s u l t has been that writers of some genius, with a genuine experience and a sensitive imagination, have often been comp e l l e d to watch their brain-children grow up i n the comparat i v e i s o l a t i o n of popular neglect.  The weakness for superfi-  c i a l i t i e s i s apparent i n the abuse of the word 'clever'. Everything i n p r i n t , i f i t i s readable, is. clever.  The reading  public has caught the word from the reviewers, and i s slow to l e t i t go.  University graduates, supposedly g i f t e d with at  least a vocabulary, use the word to describe everything from Precious Bane to The Brave lew World, and from Caravan to the l a t e s t short story i n l i b e r t y .  Galsworthy's Much of i t i_s  merely clever, and some of i t does not deserve even that s u p e r f i c i a l praise, but by a l l means l e t us discriminate, and t r y to give praise where praise i s due.  This monotonous, i f  kindly, lack of discrimination was a b^te-noir to Arnold, who would probably have ceased c r i t i c a l work altogether had he v i s u a l i z e d i t s twentieth century development. Having painted a canvas of almost uniform gloom, i t i s high time that I put forward the p o s s i b i l i t y of a note of hope.  Not  i n the s p i r i t of the Dawnist - for I should then suff < :er the humiliating experience of being classed with Arnold by Mr.  Hugh Kingsmill - but i n a s p i r i t of sincere conviction that a . s l i g h t change f o r the better i s coming about.  The conditions  I have been describing are the result, to some extent, of the era of i n f l a t e d prosperity which, followed the war and culminated four years ago.  I do not propose to discuss economic  theories - i t merely seems to me that we have been victims, even more than were Arnold's fellow-Victorians, of the tendency to worship machinery.  And by machinery I mean two  things - wealth and speed.  Four years ago everyone had a  job; everyone had money; everyone had a car and a radio, and could a f f o r d the n e c e s s i t i e s which had formerly been luxuries. Consequently the sole c r i t e r i o n of success was wealth, no matter  how acquired, and the tempo of l i f e was regulated by the  d o l l a r sign.  Home became a place to snatch a few hours' sleep  between the night club, show, or bridge game of the evening before,, and the morning trek to an eight-hour grind on the tread-mill.  Speed became the craving; to l i v e meant to cram  every conceivable twenty-four hours.  form of a c t i v i t y , except thinking, into There was no time to read, and besides,  the newspaper and radio kept us up to date, while the cinema supplied the c u l t u r a l influences*  Shakespeare could not com-  pete with the Saturday Evening Post;  the thought formerly  given to the century was now given to the minute; the power of contemplation was l o s t i n the longing f o r a t h r i l l . contrast to Arnold's p r e s c r i p t i o n on - How to l i v e I  What a  My use of the past tense i n the l a s t few sentences does not mean that I consider a l l this to he over. means.  By no  But with the deepening intensity of the depression  period there has been a growing f e e l i n g during the l a s t two or three years that our recent  'prosperity and speed' philosophy  was i n some way defective,  when widespread poverty s e t t l e s on  a people, when they are forced to s i t at home because the decreased  income barely affords the necessities of l i f e ,  then  brains which have long been drugged with the opiate of hectic and allegedly pleasurable a c t i v i t y begin again to function. The process i s often d i f f i c u l t ; and then, too, i t is annoying and sometimes incredible that our i d o l s should be found to possess feet of clay.  Yet the enforced l e i s u r e , combined with  a f e e l i n g that a r a d i c a l change i n our attitude to l i f e i s necessary, has brought many people to a r e a l i z a t i o n that the so-called post-war zest f o r l i v i n g has been p e r i l o u s l y akin to madness.  We are discovering that p e r i o d i c a l s are not the only  sources f o r knowledge and general culture, and there i s other music than that of the dance orchestra, and that human r e l a tions, can mean something subtler and more profound than the s o c i a l amenities of a bridge game.  Circumstances have forced  us to gaze into the mirror of thought, and the r e f l e c t i o n i s far  from f l a t t e r i n g .  A passage from Arnold's preface to  L i t e r a t u r e and Dogma i s singularly appropriate at t h i s juncture, "The plea, that this or that man has no time for culture, w i l l vanish as soon as we desire culture so much that we begin to examine seriously our present  use of our time.  I t has often  been s a i d , and cannot be said too often:  Give to any man the  time that he now wastes, not only on h i s vices (when he has them) , but on useless business, wearisome or deteriorating amusements, t r i v i a l l e t t e r - w r i t i n g , random reading, and he w i l l have plenty of time f o r culture.  'Die Zeit 1st unendlich  lang', says Goethe; and so i t r e a l l y i s . Some of us waste a l l of i t , most of us waste much;  but a l l of us waste some."  1  What a pregnant c r i t i c i s m of our present-day c i v i l i z a t i o n , and how desirable that i t should be taken to heart by a l l of us I It i s , I f e e l , giving pause to many, p a r t i c u l a r l y to those of the younger generation who have the intelligence to p r o f i t by the spectacle of the l a s t ten years or more. These concluding remarks, l e t me hasten to say, make no pretence of being supported either by c r i t i c a l authority or s t a t i s t i c a l data.  They are rather the f r u i t of random observa-  tions culled by, i n Arnold's words, an 'unsystematic person'. But l e t me o f f e r one i l l u s t r a t i o n of the change i n outlook I have mentioned.  The formation of study groups, f o r the avowed  purpose of i n t e l l i g e n t enlightenment by means of reading and discussion, has become i n the l a s t two or three years a widespread movement.  One such group, the b i r t h of which I had the  p r i v i l e g e of attending, has f o r i t s aims the study of social and economic conditions, based upon the works of the most r e l i able writers of past and present.  In t h i s way the members  hope to obtain a broad and i n t e l l i g e n t perspective of the basic  1. l i t e r a t u r e and Dogma.  P.xxxiv.  operations c o n t r o l l i n g the function and development of society, and to apply these ideas i n a constructive way ditions.  to present con-  They have no p a r t i c u l a r creed, no p o l i t i c a l preju-  dice - they merely wish to educate themselves to a saner and more trustworthy'citizenship than has been demonstrated by preceding generations, and to aid i n placing society upon a sound and enlightened foundation.  Is this not i n keeping with  Arnold's exhortation to 'see things as they r e a l l y are', to study  'the best that has been thought and said i n the world',  and to proceed sanely, without blind devotion to machinery? The movement may  come to naught, but i t i s growing apace at  the time of writing, and the leaders hope to establish a unity with s i m i l a r groups i n England.  Such movements may  accomplish  much, f o r the i n d i v i d u a l i f not d i r e c t l y for society, and deserve praise as a valiant e f f o r t to break the self-imposed chains of a complacent and subservient mediocrity. These indications of an i n t e l l e c t u a l awakening I choose to regard as at least a hopeful sign.  In the s p i r i t u a l  sphere, the r e l i g i o u s disintegration that Arnold sought to prevent has, and perhaps inevitably, grown apace with the years.  The m u l t i p l i c i t y of sects, and the dissension within  bodies l i k e the Church of England seem to discourage a l l idea of a u n i f i e d f a i t h , no matter how should be thought-provoking,  l i b e r a l i n creed.  But i t  i f not convincing, to hear what a  popular magazine has to say on the subject, as a result of a r e l i g i o u s survey conducted  i n eight countries during the l a s t  year by a group of prominent authors and journalists including  Arnold Toynbee, Andre Maurois. and F. Yeats-Brown.  Their gen-  e r a l com l u s i o n i s that r e l i g i o n , since the debacle of a few years ago, has strengthened i t s hold, and that many people are leaning towards an i n s t i t u t i o n a l r e l i g i o n of an international character.  In France, indeed, Maurois declares that even i n  the decade from 1920  to 1930  ground l o s t from 1880 on England may now  r e l i g i o n regained much of the  on, while a comment i n Toynbee's a r t i c l e  s t r i k e the reader as s i g n i f i c a n t .  "There i s  a great cause which r e l i g i o n does stand for i n a growing  number of English minds.  This cause i s the salvation of  society - which neither business nor government seems able to save - by touching,  once more, the deeper springs i n human  nature and making them work i n accord towards a s p i r i t u a l and therefore genuine solution of our besetting p o l i t i c a l economic problems."  1  and  A s p i r i t u a l and therefore genuine solu-  t i o n , - t h i s has a f a m i l i a r r i n g , and we turn the pages of Arnold's poetry to find the "One  'prophet of culture  mighty wave of thought and  r  visualizing joy,  L i f t i n g mankind again." This theme could be developed i n d e f i n i t e l y , but enough has been said, I think, to show how  remote i s society .  from the universal culture envisaged by Arnold. was  His v i s i o n  no doubt hopelessly Utopian - i n f a c t , he must have r e a l -  ized quite well that he was a star.  advising us to h i t c h our wagons to  But some can achieve h i s culture; a l l could benefit  1. Cosmopolitan.  May.  1933.  P.  43.  "by a consideration o f i t ; and aiming at a star we may at least have the s a t i s f a c t i o n of a r r i v i n g at a planet.  "God", said  Matthew Arnold, "keeps tossing back to the human race i t s f a i l u r e s , and commanding i t to t r y again."  We have f a i l e d dis.  mally enough; perhaps from now on we w i l l gradually endeavour to  1  see things as they r e a l l y are', and perhaps the modern  s p i r i t , a f t e r s u f f i c i e n t chastening, w i l l humbly acknowledge the wisdom of seeking to know 'the best that has been thought and said i n the world'.  BIBLIOGRAPHY.  The .Works of Matthew Arnold. 1.  Culture and Anarchy.  2.  Discourses i n America.  3.  Essays i n C r i t i c i s m .  Smith, Elder. Macmillan.  London.  1906.  London.  1896.  6.  Macmillan. London. 1925. Essays i n C r i t i c i s m . 2nd. Series. Macmillan. London. 1927. Essays L i t e r a r y and C r i t i c a l . Everyman. Dent. London, n.d. French Eton, A. ^acmillan. London. 1892.  7.  God and the B i b l e .  8.  I r i s h Essays.  9.  Last Essays on Church and Religion.  4. 5.  1st. Series.  Smith, Elder.  Smith, Elder.  London.  London.  3rd. Ed*  1897.  1891.  Smith, Elder. London. 1903. Smith, Elder. London. 1873.  10.  Literature and Dogma.  11.  Mixed Essays.  12.  Poems of Matthew Arnold.  13. 14.  St. Paul and Protestantism. Smith, Elder. London. Study of C e l t i c L i t e r a t u r e , The. Everyman. Lent. London, n.d.  Smith, Elder.  London.  Everyman.  C r i t i c a l and Supplementary References: 1.  Adams, J._ Truslow.  2,  Archer,- R.L. ~~  1879.  Dent.  London, n.d,  (Books).  Our Business C i v i l i z a t i o n - Some Aspects of American Culture. Boni. Hew York. 1929. .Secondary Education i n the Nineteenth Century. Cambridge University Press. 1921. (cont'd)  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 3.  Bradley, F.H.  4.  Fronde, J.A.  5.  K i n g s m i l l , H.  6.  Morley, John, Viscount.  7.  O'Brien, E.J.  8.  Paul, H.W,  9.  Re i l l y , J_. J .  (cont'd).  E t h i c a l Studies. Rev. End. Ed. don Press. Oxford, 1927.  Claren-  "Thomas Carlyle" - A History of h i s L i f e in London. Longmans. London. 1884. Matthew Arnold.  Dial.  1928.  Hew York.  "Recollections". 2 Vols. Macmi11an. Hew York. 1917.  The Best Short Stories of 19 3 3 . ton, M i f f l i n . Boston. 1933,  Matthew Arnold,  Macmillan.  Hough1907.  London.  Hewman as a Man of Letters. Hew York. 1925.  Macmillan.  10.  Russell, G.W.E. Letters of Matthew Arnold. Macmillan. London. 189 5 .  E Vols.  11.  Saintsbury, G.  London  12.  Whitridge, A.  Matthew Arnold. and Edinburgh.  Blackwood. 1902.  Unpublished Letters of Matthew Arnold. Yale Press. Hew Haven. 1 9 2 3 .  C r i t i c a l and Supplementary References: ( a)  (Periodicals).  L i s t of Periodicals Used. 1.  Athenaeum.  Vol. 1 .  2.  Bookman.  Vols. 1 6 ,  3.  Century.  Vol. 3 6 .  4.  Contemporary Review.  5.  Edinburgh Review.  6.  Fortnightly Review.  72.  Vols. 6, 2 1 , 2 4 , 4 5 , 4 9 ,  Vols. 1 2 9 , Vol. 1 1 .  53.  168. f  r t f t  „+i^  BIB1I0GRAPHY. 7.  Eraser's Magazine.  8.  L i v i n g Age.  9.  (cont'd). Vols. 82, 88.  Vols. 110, 118, 177, 182, 221. 242, 264. Macmillan's Magazine. Vols. 7, 9, 16, 19.  10.  Nation.  Vols. 27, 29, 46.  (American).  11.  National Review.  12.  Nineteenth Century Review.  13.  Quarterly Review.  14.  S c r i b n e r s Magazine.  Vols. 4, 30.  15.  Westminster Review.  Vols. 80, 145.  V o l . 26. Vols. 39, 93.  Vols. 167, 174.  !  L i s t of Signed A r t i c l e s . Arnold, Matthew. 2.  Arnold, Matthew.  "Dr. Stanley's Lectures on the Jewish Church." .Macmillan. v. 7. p. 327. 1862. "The Bishop and the Philosopher Macmillan. v. 7. p. 241. 1862•  Arnold, Matthew.  "A Word More About Spinoza." Macmillan. v. 9. p. 136. 1863.  4.  Arnold, Matthew.  5«  Austin, A l f r e d .  "On the Modern Element i n L i t e r ature.". Macmillan. v. 19. p. 302. 1868. "Arnold i n h i s Letters." Nationa l , v. 26. p. 471. 1895.  6.  B i r r e l l , Augustine. '" " ~~  3.  Brownell, W.£. "Matthew Arnold." Scribner. v. ~ 30. p. 105. 1901.  8.  Brownell, W.C. ~ "  9-. Burroughs, John.  "Matthew Arnold." Scribner. v. 4. p. 537. 18882  "Arnold's Essays." 29. p. 276. 1879.  Nation,  v.  "Matthew Arnold ' s Criticism." Century, v. 36. p. 185. 1888. (cont'd)  BIBLIOGRAPHY, 10. 1 1 4  Chesterton, G.K. CoLsridge, £.L.  (cont'd)  "Matthew Arnold." Bookman, v. 16. p. 116. 1902, "Matthew Arnold." Living Age. v. 182. p. 771. 1889.  12.  Davies, _J.L.  13.  E l i o t , T.S_.  14.  F i t c h , J.G. "Thomas and Matthew Arnold." Age, v. 221. p. 99. 1899..  15. 16. 17. 18.  "Mr. Arnold's Hew Religion." Contemp. Rev. v. 21. p. 842. 1872. "Arnold and Pater." p. 1. 19 33.  Bookman,  v. 72. Living  Hanigan, D.F. "Matthew Arnold's Letters." Westminster Review, v. 145. p. 40. 189 6. Harrison, Frederic. "Matthew Arnold." 19th. Century, v. 39. p. 433. 189 6. Hewlett, H,G. "The Poetry of Mr. Matthew Arnold," 'Contemporary Review, v. 24. p. 53U, 1873. Hutton, R.H. "Newman and Arnold." Contemp. Rev. ~~ v. 49. p. 327. 1886.  19.  Hirkus, W.  20.  Myers, F.W.H. "Matthew Arnold." L i v . Age. v. ~~ * 177. p. 545. 1888.  21.  Newman, F.W. ~~ "  "On Literature and Dogma." Erasers.' v. 88. p. 114. 1873.  22.  Sadler, M.S.  "Matthew Arnold." p. 366. 1923.  23.  Sidgwick, H. ~ ~  "The Prophet of Culture." v. 16. p. 271. 1867.  24.  Stephen, L e s l i e .  25.  "Culture and Anarchy." v. 11. p. 371. 1869.  Fortnightly.  19th Cent. v. 93. Macmillan.  "Mr. Matthew Arnold and the Church of England." Fraser's v. 82. p. 414. 1870. T r a i l l , H.D. "Neo-Christianity and Mr. Matthew Arnold." Contemp. Rev. v. 45. p. 564. 1884. (cont'd)  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 2 8 6  )  (c out'd)  T r a i l l , H.D. "Matthew Arnold." Contemp. Rev. v. 53. p. 868. 1888.  L i s t of Anonymous A r t i c l e s . 1.  Athenaeum.  2.  Athenaeum.  " I r i s h Essays."  v. 1. p. 337. 1:882.  11.  "Matthew Arnold." v. 1. p. 500. 1888. Edinburgh Review. "Arnold's Works." v. 129. p. ' .486. 1869. Edinburgh Review. "Poetry of Matthew Arnold." v. 168. p. 337. 1888. L i v i n g Age. Arnold's Literature and Dogma." v. " * -110. p. 529. 1871. Living Ag_e. "Arnold's Literature and Dogma." v. 118. p. 39. 1873. L i v i n g Age. "Matthew Arnold." v. 177. p. 433. 1888. L i v i n g Age. "Matthew Arnold and Insularity." v. 242. p. 769. 1904. Living Age. ."Theology of Matthew Arnold." v. 264. p. 349. 1910. i a t i o n . "Matthew Arnold's Poems." v. 27. p. ' 274. 1878. Nation. "Matthew Arnold." v. 46. p. 315. 1888.  12.  Nation.  3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.  13.  "Matthew Arnold's Discomfort." v. 46. p. 294. 1888. •Quarterly Review. "Matthew Arnold." v. 167. p. . 1888. Quarterly Review. "Culture and Anarchy." v. 174. ~ ' p. 339. 1892. Westminster Review. " C r i t i c a l Character, The." ' ~ v. 80. p. 468. 1863. 3 9 8 e  14. 15.  

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