The truth of this sentence will be questioned by few. English criticism for years past has been at the lowest ebb; it observes no system, it rests on no principles, it lays down no rules. It was at first sight startling to see the Saturday Review not long ago contending that the prevailing fault of our criticism was too great leniency. But, doubtless, the remark was true. Those who love to disparage the critic's craft are always telling us how much easier it is to blame than to praise. It may be so, if whether the praise or the blame is well founded be held a thing of no account: On the other hand, vaguely to praise implies infinitely less trouble than to censure according to sound principles, and to justify censure by argument and example. A flagrant instance, now some years old, of the commonness and worthlessness of critical praise, has lately been again brought before the public. Moved by we know not what sudden impulse, Professor Aytoun has written to the newspapers denying that commendatory expressions with regard to Festus, which have been printed with his name attached, were really written by him. It had, we told, been too hastily assumed that Mr. Aytoun was the writer of an article in Blackwood's Magazine, in which the said expressions did appear; and he is therefore free from the reproach of having praised over-much; but then, in the same list of" opinions of the press," there were extracts from the best periodicals in the country (though without the names of the writers), extolling the merits of Festus in language which would have required some mortification if applied to Paradise Lost. What can be the causes of all this evil? Mr. Arnold suggests the following:

are

"For, what is at present the bane of criticism in this country? It is that practical considerations cling to it and stifle it; it subserves interests not its own; our organs of criticism are organs of men and parties having practical ends to serve, and with them those practical ends are the first thing and the play of mind the second; so much play of mind as is compatible with the prosecution of those practical ends is all that is wanted. An organ like the Revue des Deux Mondes, having for its main function to understand and utter the best that is known and thought in the world, existing, it may be said, as just an organ for

a free play of the mind, we have not; but we have the Edinburgh Review, existing as an organ of the old Whigs, and for as much play of mind as may suit its being that; we have the Quarterly Review, existing as an organ of the Tories, and for as much play of mind as may suit its being that; we have the British Quarterly Review, existing as an organ of the political Dissenters, and for as much play of mind as may suit its being that; we have the Times, existing as an organ of the common, satisfied, well-to-do Englishman, and for as much play of mind as may suit its being that. And so on through all the various fractions, political and religious, of our society; every fraction has, as such, its organ of criticism, but the notion of combining all fractions in the common pleasure of a free disinterested play of mind meets with no famore scope, and to forget the pressure of vor. Directly this play of mind wants to have practical considerations a little, it is checked, it is made to feel the chain; we saw this the other day in the extinction, so much to be regretted, of the Home and Foreign Review; perhaps in no organ of criticism in this country was there so much knowledge, so much play of mind; but these could not save it; the Dublin Review subordinates play of m nd to the practical business of English and Irish Catholicism, and lives. It must needs be that men should at in sects and parties, that each of these sects and parties should have its organ, and should make this organ subbe well, too, that there should be a criticism, serve the interests of its action; but it would

not the minister of these interests, not their their enemy, but absolutely and entirely independent of them. No other criticism will ever attain any real authority or make any real way towards its end-the creating a current of true and fresh ideas.”

Other influences are also at work, some of slighter force than the above, others more deeply-rooted and more powerful. Good-nature, a dislike of trouble, the arts of puffery, all tend to pervert criticism; but worst of all is the indecision and want of fixed principles among critics, who, aimed at, have, of course, no sound basis uncertain as to what should be really on which to rest their judgments. And what incalculable mischief is hereby done to literature? Writers reject only too gladly the authority of judges who speak with hesitating lips, and give themselves over to all manner of lawlessness. a novel or a poem should be a work of art, framed according to certain artistic rules, seems an idea never present to their minds. They strive indeed after effect, but it is not legitimate effect; it is i

That

the effect of "fine passages," so misplaced, so at variance with artistic excellence, that things which might have been beauties become deformities brought out into strong relief. To such writers the merit of a poem like Dora, or a novel like Tom Jones is an utter mystery. We need not dwell on this theme. Unhappily there is little need to convince the world of the shortcomings of English literature at the present time.

and the artistic completeness of the whole. It is very idle, therefore, to assail such an art as being nothing beyond an unkindly love of fault-finding. On the contrary, it has its origin in a love of truth, and its real aim is to discover and foster excellence, though, as a means to this end, it may be sometimes necessary to expose pretence and incompetence. To be impatient of the restraints of criticism, to disparage it, to rail at it, to affect an unreal independence of its judgments, are certain signs of weakness in an author.

For this dismal saturnalia of sensation novels and spasmodic poetry, our socalled criticism is in no small degree responsible. The vagaries of half-educated To prove all this, and illustrate it, and writers have had no control; the taste exemplify it, has been the aim of much of half-educated readers has had no di- of Mr.. Arnold's writing. His first separection. How much evil has thence re-rate prose publication was, we think, the sulted, no man can tell; things are at a lectures on translating Homer, which he sad pass when the watchers prove to be delivered as Professor of Poetry at Oxthemselves in need of watching. Nay, ford. The originality, the fearlessness, our critics do more than negative mis- we regret to add the occasional arrogance chief. They are strenuous in the propa- of tone which marked these lectures, gation of evil. One critic like Mr.gained for them much attention. George Gilfillan can do infinitely more harm to literature than any number of spasmodic poets. For he is the prime source of mischief: it is who calls those poets into their fief but harmful

existence.

"But, of the two, less dangerous is the offence, To tire our patience, than mislead our sense." Are these things irremediable? Is criticism nothing but mere opinion resting on no more certain basis than caprice? and must literature therefore for ever wander without control, without a

.

not

guide? Surely, no. Criticism may
yet have become what Dr. Johnson
would have it to be, a science; but it
is, when rightly understood, an intelligi-
ble and certain art. The laws which it
lays down are not arbitrary; they are
generalized from the practice of the mas-
ters of literature, and come to us ap-
proved by experience, and invested with
the weight of authority. Criticism con-
cerns itself both with form and matter,
applying to these certain definite tests.
It inquires, in the first place, whether
the language, the illustrations, the meta-
phors are correct, and in good taste; in
the second place, whether they are rich
and beautiful; and, in the third place,
it rises to a study of the characters,
takes in the nature of the subject, looks
to the due subordination of the parts,

But

as they were fully noticed in the North British Review* at the time of their publication, we can not do more than allude to them now. In the present volume he has collected together essays, ranging over a great variety of subjects, but all of them in the strictest sense, critical. In the first of these, called The Functions of Criticism at the Present Time, he not only explains those functions, but also vindicates their dignity and utility. Mr. Arnold must tell us himself what, and of what sort, is the criticism he upholds and would endeavor to practice:

mean

"But stop, some one will say; all this talk is of no practical use to us whatever; this criticism of yours is not what we have in our minds when we speak of criticism; when we critics and criticism of the current English speak of critics and criticism, we literature of the day; when you offer to tell criticism its function, it is to this criticism that we expect you to address yourself. I am sorry for it, for I am afraid I must disappoint these expectations. I am bound by my own definition of criticism: a disinterested endeavor to learn and propagate the best that is known and thought in the world. How much of current English Literature comes into this best that is known and thought in the world? Not very much, I fear; certainly less, at this moment, than of the current literature of France or Germany. Well, then,

* No. lxxii, May, 1862.

am I to alter my definition of criticism, in
order to meet the requirements of a number
of practising English critics, who, after all,
would be making criticism lend itself just to
one of those alien practical considerations,
which, I have said, are so fatal to it. One
may say, indeed, to those who have to deal
with the mass,so much better disregarded,
-of current English literature, that they may
at all events endeavor, in dealing with this,
to try it, so far as they can, by the standard
of the best that is known and thought in the
world; one may say, that to get anywhere
near this standard, every critic should try
and possess one great literature, at least, be-
sides his own; and the more unlike his own,
the better. But, after all, the criticism I am
really concerned with, the criticism which
alone can help us for the future, the criticism
which throughout Europe, is at the present day
meant, when so much stress is laid on the
importance of criticism and the critical spirit,
-is a criticism which regards Europe as
being, for intellectual and spiritual purposes,
one great confederation, bound to a joint
action and working to a common result; and
whose members have, for their proper outfit,
a knowledge of Greck, Roman, and Eastern
antiquity, and of one another. Special, local,
and temporary advantages being put out of
account, that modern nation will in the intel-
lectual and spiritual sphere make most pro-
gress, which most thoroughly carries out this
programme.
And what is that but saying
that we too, all of us, as individuals, the more

are free in their choice of a business? That

gerous wayfaring, and take its chance Safety, according to Mr. Arnold, lies in this only, that criticism must "maintain its independence of the practical spirit and its aims." It must abandon altogether the sphere of practical life, and rest content with discovering and impressing on the world adequate ideas, trusting that those ideas will bring forth their fruit in a fitting, though it may be a distant season. Such a work may be slow and obscure, but it is not the less the only proper work of criticism. Now this is a striking thought, but we doubt whether it be a sound one. It seems to rest on a confusion between the direct and the indirect influence of the critical spirit on the affairs of life. The indirect influence is exerted, of course, through literature. It is in this sense that Mr. Arnold upholds the justice of Goethe's claim to have been "the liberator" of the Germans, because he taught the German poets that men must live from within outwards, placing the standard inside the man instead of outside him,-a doctrine, as Mr. Arnold says, "absolutely fatal to all routine thinking." All this, to be sure, had not much effect on the political life of Germany, has not even yet had much effect in that direction; whence Heine's impetuous attacks on Goethe, "come to be eighty years old doing this, and minister, and in good con"I conclude with what I said at the begin- dition; poor German people! that is thy ning: to have the sense of creative activity is greatest man." But whether such influthe great happiness and the great proof of be-ence of criticism be really important, or ing alive, and it is not denied to criticism to have it; but then criticism must be sincere, simple, flexible, ardent, ever widening its knowledge. Then it may have, in no contemptible measure, a joyful sense of creative activity; a sense which a man of insight and conscience will prefer to what he might derive from a poor, starved, fragmentary, inadequate creation. And at some epochs no other creation is possible."

thoroughly we carry it out, shall make the

mor progress?

We must not, however, suppose that Mr. Arnold would limit the sphere of criticism to literature alone. On the contrary, he maintains that criticism, being truly an endeavor to see things as they really are, can not be limited in its scope, but must extend its efforts in all things relating to man and human life,-society, politics, religion. He admits, indeed, that where these burning matters are concerned, it is most likely to go astray; nevertheless, it must set out on the dan

all but imperceptible in its working, this at least is clear, that it is an indirect influence. The immediate effect is produced by literature, and we do not gain much towards clearness of thought by running up the chain of causality, and attributing that effect to criticism. But if we do so, we must be careful to note that the word thus used means pure literary criticism only-affecting active life, if at all, slowly and indirectly; and surely to say that such criticism must sever itself from the merely practical, and concern itself with "adequete ideas," though true and valuable doctrine, is not a novel discovery.

On the other hand, when comment or criticism, or whatever we choose to call it, applies itself directly to matters of action, it seems impossible but that it must take a practical turn. Let us test the thing by Mr. Arnold's own instances.

print his two essays on the Bishop's first volume, which appeared some time ago in Macmillan's Magazine, yet he "can not forbear repeating once more, for his benefit and that of his readers, this sentence from my original remarks upon him: There is truth of science and truth of religion; truth of science does not become truth of

When extreme or ill-timed demands for political change are met by dwelling on our present unrivalled happiness," he objects to the answer, not on behalf of the reformers, but in the interests of a correct theory of criticism. But what style of answer does he suggest as in acacordance with his own theory? Why, the somewhat rude one of taking an ag-religion till it is made religious. And I will gravated case of child-murder from the newspapers, and tabling it against the "unrivalled happiness" notion. Now, we say nothing as to the value of this answer, nor pause to inquire how far the fact of child-murders taking place in England from time to time is inconsistent with the position that the people of England as a body enjoy more happiness than the people of any other nation; but we ask, is not this of Mr. Arnold's a most practical answer? It seems to us every whit as practical, though by no means so relevant, as the argument with which Mr. Arnold contrasts it, viz., that, happy as we may be, we should probably be yet happier were the desired political changes to take place. We remember a London paper, of a very unideal and Philistine* character, which had a column, entitled to us that this might be attempted with"Our Civilization," exclusively devoted to the chosen arguments of Mr. Arnold's ideal theory of criticism.

Again, the illustration given by Mr. Arnold of how criticism should approach religious themes, succeeds in keeping quite clear of any practical tendency, but this at the expense both of distinctness and utility. He objects to Bishop Colenso's criticism on the ground that it strengthens the common confusion between science and religion; and though he does not re

add: Let us have all the science there is from the men of science; from the men of religion let us have religion." Now this passage, so far as we understand it, appears to rest upon a very extraordinary misconception. If the truths of science and the truths of religion are to be kept always distinct-the one delivered only by men of science, the other delivered only by men of religion, what are we to make of their seeming opposition? That there is a seeming opposition no one will deny, and must we, then, accept the opposition as inexplicable? Can we make no endeavor to get beyond this seeming? Can criticism do nothing to reconcile? Is the task of showing that there is no real opposition between science and religion too "practical?" It rather seems

out placing any harsh restraints on the free play of thought, and that, if accomplished, it would be the greatest and happiest step ever made in spiritual progression; in a word, criticism might herein exercise not only its appropriate, but its noblest functions. Finally, approaching social questions in the same spirit, Mr. Arnold falls foul of the Divorce Court, because that institution does not accord with the "refreshing and elevating" marriage theory of Catholicism.

Now, if all this merely means, that *This is a German nickname of which Mr. Ar. criticism, being an honest endeavor to nold is very fond, and, as it is hardly possible to get at truth, must keep itself free from write on these Essays without referring to it, we party catch-words, from party considersubjoin his explanation of its meaning: "Philisations, ay, even from party ideas, there tine must have originally meant, in the mind of those who invented the nickname, a strong, dog ged, unenlightened opponent of the chosen people, of the children of the light. The party of change, the would-be remodellers of the old traditional European order, the invokers of reason against custom, the representatives of the modern spirit in every sphere where it is applicable, regarded themselves, with the robust self-confidence natural to reformers, as a chosen people, as children of the light. They regarded their adversaries as humdium people, slaves to routine, enemies to light; stupid and oppressive, but at the same time very

strong."

can hardly be room for dispute. Surely so simple a truth need not have been so elaborated. But if it mean more than this, if it mean that criticism can be applied with profit, or, indeed, can be applied at all to questions of active life, yet in no way concern itself with results, keeping above all practical considerations, then we think Mr. Arnold altogether mistaken, and we are sure that his criticism will be for ever barren. Indeed, his theory breaks down

in his own hands. In the examples he has given him what Pope considers the himself gives, he refutes the self-lauda- rarest quality of the critic, good taste: tory Briton by extracts from newspapers; "In poets, as true genius is but rare, he attacks the Divorce Court on the very practical grounds of its "crowded benches, its reports, its money compensations:" and when he turns to religion, his criticism only ceases to be practical by becoming totally useless, and not a little obscure.

True taste as seldom is the critic's share." But he has much that is higher than mere scholarship, though unfortunately separable, and too often separated from it; he has caught "the secret of antiquity"-has penetrated to the spirit of the ancient writers. The influence of

To say the truth, it is not when deal- Germany seems to have been but slight ing with these weighty matters that Mr. Arnold is at his best. He does not un- upon him; on the other hand, he has a perfect familiarity with French literature derstand them; he does not, we suspect, the literature of criticism par excellence; greatly care to understand them; his insome will say that he surrenders himself terest in them strikes us as being forced. When he passes from confuting Mr. Gallicism is perhaps extreme, and this, too unreservedly to its dominion. His Adderley and Mr. Roebuck to analyzing combined with his devotion to classical the beauties of Maurice de Guérin, he models, may give a certain narrowness carries his readers into a new atmosphere to his judgments; but in these days of of warmth and light. His principles of utter lawlessness, when there is truly no criticism will be found safe guides in the region of the fine arts, though he does not seem to possess the special knowledge required in an art-critic; but literedge required in an art-critic; but literature is the theme he knows best, likes best-where he is, in all respects, most at home. His natural qualifications for the work of literary criticism have been enhanced by assiduous cultivation. No man can be a good critic who does not possess a familiarity with at least one great literature besides his own. And this is especially the case with Englishmen, who, as we have said before, find so little in their own literature which can stimulate or foster the critical spirit.

"By the very nature of things, as England is not all the world, much of the best that is known and thought in the world can not be of English growth, must be foreign; by the nature of things, again, it is just this that we are least likely to know, while English thought is streaming in upon us from all sides, and takes excellent care that we shall not be ignorant of its existence; the English critic, therefore, must dwell much on foreign thought, and with particular heed on any part of it, which, while significant and fruitful in itself, is for any reason, specially likely to escape him."

Mr. Arnold's mind is open to foreign thought from many sources. His scholarship shows itself in the only way in which scholarship can show itself becomingly, i. e., in its results, its influence on the judgment and the style. It

king in Israel, and every man writes as seems good in his own eyes, we welcome any ruler even though his laws be rigid and his rule severe. Coming to his work of criticism with such powers and such resources, he magnifies his office, very naturally, and not, we think, unwhich he tells us what criticism should duly. We have quoted one passage in be, in another and yet more striking passage, he tell us what criticism can do:

the creative. True; but in assenting to this "The critical power is of lower rank than proposition, one or two things are to be kept in mind. It is undeniable that the exercise of a creative power, that a free creative activity, is the true function of man; it is proved to be so by man's finding in it his true happiness. But it is undeniable, also, that men may have the sense of exercising this free creative activity in other ways than in producing great works of literature or art; if it were not so, all but a very few men would be shut out from the true happiness of all men; they may have it in well-doing, they may have it in learning, they may have it even in criticising. This is one thing to be kept in mind. Another is, that the exercise of the creative power in the production of great works of literature or art, however high this exercise of it may rank, is not at all epochs and under all conditions possible; and that therefore labor may be vainly spent in attempting it, which might with more fruit be used in preparing for it, in rendering it possi

ble. This creative power works with elements, with materials; what if it has not those

materials, those elements ready for its use? In that case it must surely wait till they are