sion of what classical poetry had achieved. To help make life bearable, poetry, in
Arnold's view, must bring joy. As he says in the 1853 preface to his Poems, it must
'inspirit and rejoice the reader'; it must 'convey a charm, and infuse delight.' Such
a demand does not exclude tragic poetry but does exclude works 'in which suffering
finds no vent in action; in which a continual state of mental distress is prolonged.'
Of Charlotte Bronte's novel Villette (1853) he says witheringly: 'The writer's mind
contains nothing but hunger, rebellion, and rage . . . No fine writing can hide this
thoroughly, and it will be fatal to her in the long run.' Judged by such a standard,
most nineteenth-century poems, including his own long poem Empedocles on Etna
(1852), were unsatisfactory. And when Arnold tried to write poems that would meet
his own requirements?Sohrah and Rustum (1853) or Balder Dead (1855)?he felt
that something was lacking. By the late 1850s he thus found himself at a dead end.
Turning aside to literary criticism enabled him partially to escape the dilemma. In his
prose his melancholy and 'morbid' personality was subordinated to the resolutely
cheerful and purposeful character he had created for himself by an effort of will. Arnold's two volumes of Essays in Criticism (1865, 1888) repeatedly show how
authors as different as Marcus Aurelius, Leo Tolstoy, Homer, and Wordsworth pro
vide the virtues he sought in his reading. Among these virtues was plainness of style.
Although he could on occasion recommend the richness of language of such poets
as John Keats or Tennyson?their 'natural magic,' as he called it?Arnold usually
preferred literature that was unadorned. And beyond stylistic excellences, the prin
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MATTHEW ARNOLD / 135 3
cipal virtue he admired as a critic was the quality of 'high seriousness.' In a world in
which the role of formal religion appeared to be shrinking, Arnold increasingly empha
sized that the poet must be a serious thinker who could offer guidance to his readers.
This belief perhaps caused him to undervalue other qualities in literature: in 'The
Study of Poetry' (1880), for instance, he displays little appreciation for Chaucer's
humor and chooses instead to castigate him for his lack of high seriousness. In 'The Function of Criticism at the Present Time' (1864), Arnold makes clear
that he regarded good literary criticism, like literature itself, as a potent force in
producing what he conceived as a civilized society. From a close study of this essay
one could forecast the third stage of his career: his excursion into the criticism of
society that was to culminate in Culture and Anarchy (1869) and Friendship's Garland
(1871). Arnold's starting point as a critic of society is different from that of Carlyle and
John Ruskin. The older prophets attacked the Victorian middle classes on the grounds
of their materialism, their selfish indifference to the sufferings of the poor?their
immorality, in effect. Arnold argued instead that the 'Philistines,' as he called them,
were not so much wicked as ignorant, narrow-minded, and suffering from the dullness
of their private lives. This novel analysis was reinforced by Arnold's conviction that
the world of the future, both in England and in America, would be a middle-class
world and therefore would be dominated by a class inadequately equipped either to
lead or to enjoy civilized living. To establish this point Arnold employed cajolery, satire, and even quotations from
current newspapers with considerable effect. He also used memorable catch phrases
(such as 'sweetness and light') that sometimes pose an obstacle to understanding the
complexities of his position. His view of civilization, for example, was pared down to
a four-point formula of the four 'powers': conduct, intellect and knowledge, beauty,
and social life and manners. Applying this simple formula to a range of civilizations,
Arnold had a scale by which to judge the virtues as well as the inadequacies of dif
ferent countries. When he turned this instrument on his own country, he usually
