"SWEETNESS AND LIGHT."

Press, Volume LVIII, Issue 17645, 23 December 1922, Page 11

"SWEETNESS AND LIGHT."

lIATTHEW ARNOLD'S CENTENARY WBITTE-V FOR "iHK PBESS.")

(By CYUAXO.')

"Ton aro a f° rtl . rante man," said njsraeli in l" 3 a 8 e > to Matthew Ar-'-The young men read you ; they ' E longer read me. And yon hav e in- ' ""jted phrases which everybody quotes a s 'Philistinism' and 'Sweetjwd Light.'" It is suspected 4hat the number 01 young men who read Sjatihew Arnold to-day is all too few, i t it -is lai'£ er than the number who lead Disraeli- The compliment of the (totesmwi-novelist was well deserved, was a «v'nt phrase-maker. He invented neither ''Sweetness and Light" . ("Philistinebut he gave them a nor * . , i ♦ T se! f application and a much wider currency. ' The definition of poetry as "Cn'ticisii hfe," the division of the Jaglish people into Barbarians, Philistines, and Populace-, "the young lions 0 { the 'Daily Telegraph' "; the tribute Sophocles as one who eaw life steadily and saw it whole; the description of England, as "the weary Titan"; / these and other phrases and sayings have passed into the language, to be used by many who are unaware of their origin. He has never been, and never will • be 8 popular poet, as Tennyson is pmrolar, but there are lines of his that jre among the common equipment of journalists, publicists, and moralists. quatrain about the East boffin" low before the blast and heeding not the thunder of the legions; the haunting description of faith contending with mystery—_gjj]l nursing the unconquerable hope, . Still clutching tha inviolable shade, the melancholy cannot kindle when we will • . ,The fire which in the heart resides, the .marvelious flash-light thrown on Bjrim'6, egotism —"the pageant of his bleeding heart' ; —these have appealed to. innumerable readers whose acquaintance ntli'the body of his work is of the (lightest. Could Arnold revisit us to- . foy, that soul of his—at once gracious, jmniftAT, .urbane, melancho.ly, sceptical, and deeply religious, would be touched ; strewn through the written ; Bnd'!'apoken language of the time so K 'ninth of his own handiwork. It would! lie moved still more when hj& realised. ;• , the extent to winch his ideas of culture f md morals had Bhaped the thoughts and feelings-of the best of his countrymen. Arnold's position aa a man of letters ; is unique. In modern English literature no man takes so high.a doubly - irrt as poet and prose-writer. He is a : classic in both media, yet for thirty- • fire years he was a*busy, public ser- • «mt. : He was born on Christmas Eve, v IW2, son of the famous Dr. Arnold, of < "■ Riigby.' ■'At Oxford he won the Newdi- - ate with an undistinguished poem, and published hia hrst-voiuhie of verse at , (he age of twenty-seven. Two years ifierwards he Avas appointed to an inspectorship of schools, a .post that he fcld?for thirty-five years. The duties an .inspector of scnoods are exacting. ' mams content'to take things • : 'he oannot escai>e' the drudgery . Matthew Arno.d was (■' gave to his task ' flgjest that was ra trim. A zealot . ls!sdtioational his conception i extended far heyond the . of inspection. He wrote i with great care, investigated o>otu£tal methods for the, benefit. of ; iuSjOjf® country, and generally was an - v gMUsiastic propagandisti - It is not to i wondered at that he had nfuch less tims -to devote to poetry than' many oi p jibe great nanies m English' literature. IjfvrlJennyson and Browning, the foreinost feVkis Contemp6raries, had, nothing else do, Arnold wrote m the leisure of |v fousy life. - Though he for twenty .fyears after the publication ; of "New Pi/Eoeiaa" m»1867, he wrote ■ little' in that turn The muse of i. ifg. unstress, and 'aa a , generaL v rwle g grfeat poets''have to hve laborious' days &■, V^y fe £iat flight of poetay but he Was g poet That he would |s*«; been greater had he devoted ma life to poetry can hardly he ques- ; but we may doubt wnether the feWrld : would' have benefitted in the genlesulf: itg gain in poetry would been its.loss in criticism and the to education and culture. If s'lfjJjß JMrld had had to choose, from the beganaig Jwfayew Arnold as poet • and : as essayist, moralist. «nd isduMl?ational reformer, Knowing that the one the other, it might, in its prehave chosen the poetj but as it pamM.iras to pbtamibotji in-rich : .Arnold,' the' Hellenic hand in hand:with iome of qualities of that Puritanism wlO?/ esu '^ s ,n Dissenting middle fcsggrq ß attacked with'. such" earnest Steeped in thb"classics, iie all questions of culture to ;the of the Greeks. He worthe Greeks' sense of beauty, slggSfii ioxe of order, theirlucidifcy, their curios ity, their, tact , in-all i.taste. In. this . .respect Arnold afFord an inter- ; ®P n trast. Swinburne may be. . ve got drank on Qreok beauty, il&CsuJP'J 1 a ? a in his verse rings It#i fren2 y °f the Bacchanal. ; Arn-; of excess. He knew Rgjj? Greeks put restraint and selfthe cardinal virtues; and and upbringing gave, Ws towards austerity,, Si ardin l° ve with the romantie Swinhurne'a ecstasy may - ?9 re satisfying than Arnold's he will find that thatIt ? a better travelling companion tit j tbs narrower sense of Mrfi l' ™ the wider jneaning mmself employs in his famous Wordsworth. Arnold's poetry is into practice nis own ''the noble and "profound of ideas to life is the most of poetic greatness." His OX6 high things of life, approaches with the eye of the PikSvL j® intellect of a philosopher, ifaftu™ 6 deep melancholy of a man who r ®J'Ki° n J but cannot accept is deeply impressed with °f. tears in, mortal things," in the larger hope is faint! 5 "l ßsß^'Blll . bis intellectualWith austerity—limits his audiJgimarily and almost entirely, he °f the cultured man. Bnt |C are few, they are fit, tlie , o x«rts in them is pro- ' lasting,- and through tnem Permeates to the ,. As is by no means flnwless. ®?P re ssing high thought ] simplicity,, dignity and M , The .poet who WII- teuoh xts how to dare, our breaet to 'steel; its .to .b&st—wbo will make ua f«el? destiny. . fearlessly—--9 bim, will put it by? T ' wbnderfur"curtain"/ : /Jiß calls it) .to '"Sohwhere the flow ■ of; river." unmindful of death /is used-to produce

the effect of peace after the tragedy, xromtbe same pen came the delicate and fanciful pathos of "The Forsaken iUerman," ana the simple loveliness of -knglisli landscape in '"Thyrsis;" Too quick despairer, wherefore wilt thou go? on^ 1 high Midsummer pomps come S00I 8we?l" ihe mUSk carnations break and Soon shall we have gold-dusted' snapdragon, ) v.'ith iii 9 homely rottdge-smeil. And stocks in flagrant Blow: Hoses that down the alleys shine afar, Atd cpen, jasmine-mufßed lattices. • nd groups under the dreaming garden-trees, Btar° moon . and the white evening-

Assuredly Arnold's fame as a poet rises steacniy, and his value as an interpreter ot t&e jfcthos, the tragedy, the nobility V? i € - bes * ut y increases with the bewildering years. It is when it approaches Arnold's prose that criticism whets its knife. A great deal of what he wrote i>.omoted ?b«Jfp and even bitter controversy, and inflicted wounds that as yet have scarcely healed. He covered a wide range. He preached an undogmatie Christianity, which drew from Gladstone the observation that he combined a sincere devotion to the Christian religion -with a faculty for presenting it in such a form as to be recognisable neither by friend nor foe. He discussed political subjects with distinction. Nothing could be better than his definition of civilisation in the preface to his "Mixed Essays." He was the foremost literary critic of his time, and may be said to have revolutionised this department of literature. He rttacked Ythe Dissenters with all the extraordinary power of his irony for the ultraHebraism of their religion, the narrowness of their culture, and the intensity of their self-satisfaction. "Sweetness and Light' l was his remedy for the ills of society. Some of thie> writing won him permanent enemies. He acquired a reputation for over-fastidiousness and "Superiority" ; in the eyes of manj he was and is another edition of Lord Curzon. The writer-knows men of unusually -wide taste in literature who can hardly discuss Arnold calmly. To them he is the obiectionable apotheosis of the Oxford manner, and they, cannot forgive him for bis treatment of Mr Bottles and his fellows of middleclass Nonconformity. It is true that Arnold had something of the Oxford manner, the objection to which is that it gives'the impression that in the opinion of the, possessor Oxford is the flower and crown of the world, and all people who hav» not been to Oxford are,, rank outsiders. resent this. attitude more than Englishmen. Arnold was undoubtedly restricted in his sympathies by the conditions of his origin and education. His verdict on 'Americun life, that it was uninteresting, might have beem expected from any Oxford man; also his failure to appreciate Lincoln. American life may be this, that, or the other thing, but it is certainly not uninteresting. For an Oxford man of that time, however, Arnold was singularly broad in his j views, wide in his sympathies, and receptive to new ideas. And Oxford, it | may bo added, is not the only homo [ of a too-fastidious intellectua'ism. AH philosophers, _ indeed all highly educated men, are in peril of losing "t'-e common touch." In personal intercourse Arnold was the reverse of the highly superior person that many people have 'imagined him to be. Mr Herbert Paul says in his biography that he "had a good deal of manner, which those who did npt know him mistook for assumption," but "ill reality he was the'most , genial and amiable of men," who "never gave himself airs,- or seemed conscious of any superiority in those about him,"but made'considerate ,poiiteness to "young and old, rich and poor, obscure and eminent,'' his practice. He had a very keen sense of'humour, as indeed nope who has read "Friendship Garland" could possibly doubt, and was - a very lively companion.'Max Beerbohm drew a cartoon of Mrs Humphry Ward, saying to him, "Are you never serious, Uncle Matthew P" Had he lived to see his niece famous, he would have told her wJiat a weakness was her lack'• of humour. Arnold was no prig, but a Christian gentleman, Arnold said hard things about his countrymen, about the material ideals, of the upper class, or barbarians, .. the vulgarity Of the middle-class, . orj Philistines, and the brutality of the lower-class, or populace. He poured the acid of his irony on ignorance, indifference, and insular self-satisfaction. It is complained that ho was too Hard on the middle^class. x No doubt he . was. Mr Paul remarks that but for the victories of .Dissent over' restrictions in freedom of thought Arnold's. own could not have' been published. It is also a fair comment that faults and vices are not coh- ! fined to classes,' but are spread'through the community. Further, it may be hazarded that if Arnold had lived to see England in the Great War, he might, have been inclined to modify some of his strictures and especially those that took the form' of comparison with the virtues of foreign peoples But is it not almost inevitable that the satirist or reformer overstates his caseP That there was a great _bodv of justification for what Arnold : wro£e is.surely unquestionable, and , unquestioned among: the best elements of the <?ircle3 and classes attacked. It may also be asked; whether all those." who resent his attacks .on the have read , the tribute he pays to' it. in his essay on "British 'Liberalism."" "The Puritan middle- . claTas> "yvith all its faults, is still the ..best* stuff in this nation.. Some have hated, and persecuted it, ma >iy have flattered ' and derided it—flattered it that while they deride. it they may use it; I have believed in it. It is the best stuff in this nation, and in. its success is our best hope for the future. But' to succeed it must be transformed.'' There is no reason why the' Nonconformist of to-day, or any other element'in the community, should not. enjoy the delicious irony of: '/Friendship's Garland." The conversation between' Arminius and the author upon the justices at petty sessions ranks among the immortal English satires. Barely, however, is this book seen in the shops or on the shelves of literary households. • . Among literary, critics Arnold is a giant. Others before him may have excelled him in certain qualities,' but more than any other English writer* ho reduced criticism, and especially the criticism of poetry, to first principles, - and set these out in clear and compelling prose. No one who aspires to be a critic of English literature can afford to ignore "Essays in Criticism,," and he must be a stupid person who does not 'obtain some light and leading.from those volumes. Arnold's judgment was not faultless. That he could not appreciate Tennyson as he deserved was as strange as that he should have denied Thackeray the rank of a great writer. That he was less enthusiastic and wise'than he should have been about Shelley was partly due to the disgust that the Shelley-Godwin-Byron morals induced in a man whose standard of conduct was lofty and life* blameless. All this, however, amounts to ho more than that no critic is per--feet, and it/does not affect the value of the general body of his criticism. Arnold brought to his task a very wide knowledge of literature ancient and modern, /-accurate scholarship, enthusiasm controlled by the true Hellenic spirit, a finely tempered taste, and a prose style at once strong, direct, „subtle,.and eloquent. Professor Dow•den. remarked, oh the absence of melancholy in his prose, and the presence of buoyancy, high spirits, and intellectual confidence- That he could rise to rare heights of beauty in prose as well as in verse is shown bv his famous passage about Oxford, "steeped in sentiment, as she lies, spreading her gard®ns the moonlight, and whispering ,-from her towers the last enchantment - (Continued at foot of next column.) •

of the Middle Age." The great lesson he 'taught as a critic was the necessity for high standards. All criticism is based on comparison, and the main rea- ' son why so much of it is bad is that I the standards are wrong. That is why so many geese are proclaimed as swans, why, for example, every year novels are hailed as masterpieces only to have their little hour and cease to be. Arnold taught us why we should judge poetry by the best poetry, and how so to judge it. If his criticism appears chilly to some who have been reared on writers accustomed to use superlatives more freely, the experience .will do them no harm. Arnold had a bountiful stock of enthusiasm, but he dispensed it with discretion. He taught his countrymen how to discipline enthusiasm through knowledge and tiiste. /» Arnold's teaching in "Essays in Criticism" was part of his message. There, as elsewhere, he inculcated the true culture. To the exclusively Hebraic spirit he opposed the Hellenic. To the materialism of the age he opposed .intellectual, moral, and spiritual ideals. In a time when the wealth pf England was increasing with astonishing rapidity, he challenged the • idea that civilisation consisted of trains, telegraphs, and expanding exports. "You seem to think that you l jive only got to get on to the back of your horse Freedom, or your horse Industry, and to xido away as hard as you can, be sure of coming to the right destination." Where are you going tot What is life forf What are the best things in life f These were questions he asked as educationist, literary critic, ancfmoralist. An ardent reformer, appalled by the inequalities, the selfishness, the stupidity, and the suffering in life, may perhaps be excused for being impatient about "sweetness and light" as a remedy for the ills of the world, but can we of to.-day say with any assurance that Arnold over-rated its importance t Does not the history of man'since his time reinforce the argu- ! ma.nt that political, social, and economics reforms by themselves will never effect a complete cure without the help of culture as Arnold saw culture—something that would make reason and the will of God prevail"? Poet, educationist, critic, reformer—in all these roles Matthew Arnold is needed to-day by a . distracted world. — 1 *