h the
follies, sophistries, delusions, which have accumulated in the darkness.
"Lucidity of soul" may be--nay, must be, "sad"; but it is not less
imperative. And the truth which light reveals must not only be sought
earnestly and cherished carefully, but even, when the cause demands it,
championed strenuously. The voices of conflict, the joy of battle, the
"garments rolled in blood," the "burning and fuel of fire" have little
place in Arnold's poetry. But once at any rate he bursts into a strain
so passionate, so combatant, that it is difficult for a disciple to
recognize his voice; and then the motive is a summons to a last charge
for Truth and Light--

They out-talk'd thee, hiss'd thee, tore thee?
Better men fared thus before thee;
Fired their ringing shot and pass'd,
Hotly charged--and sank at last.

Charge once more, then, and be dumb!
Let the victors, when they come,
When the forts of folly fall,
Find thy body by the wall!

But the note of battle, even for what he holds dearest and most sacred,
is not a familiar note in his poetry. He had no natural love of

the throng'd field where winning comes by strife.

His criticism of life sets a higher value on work than on fighting.
"Toil unsevered from tranquillity," "Labour, accomplish'd in repose"--is
his ideal of happiness and duty.

Even the Duke of Wellington--surely an unpromising subject for poetic
eulogy--is praised because he was a worker,

Laborious, persevering, serious, firm.

Nature, again, is called in to teach us the secret of successful labour.
Her forces are incessantly at work, and in that work they are entirely
concentrated--

Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God's other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see.

But those who had the happiness of knowing Arnold in the flesh will feel
that they never so clearly recognize his natural voice as when, by his
criticism of life, he is inculcating the great law of Love. Even in the
swirl of Revolution he clings to his fixed idea of love as duty. After
discussing the rise and fall of dynasties, the crimes of diplomacy, the
characteristic defects of rival nations, and all the stirring topics of
the time, he abruptly concludes his criticism with an appeal to Love.
"Be kind to the neighbours--'this is all we can.'"

And as in his prose, so in his poetry. Love, even