|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 16
[6] "The Tuxford waiter desponds exactly as you do."--_Sydney Smith
to Jeffrey_.
CHAPTER II.
LIFE FROM 1851-62--SECOND SERIES OF _POEMS_--_MEROPE_--_ON TRANSLATING
HOMER_.
We must now return a little and give some account of Mr Arnold's
actual life, from a period somewhat before that reached at the end of
the last chapter. The account need not be long, for the life, as has
been said, was not in the ordinary sense eventful; but it is
necessary, and can be in this chapter usefully interspersed with an
account of his work, which, for nine of the eleven years we shall
cover, was, though interesting, of much less interest than that of
those immediately before and those immediately succeeding.
One understands at least part of the reason for the gradual drying up
of his poetic vein from a sentence of his in a letter of 1858, when he
and his wife at last took a house in Chester Square: "It will be
something to unpack one's portmanteau for the first time since I was
married, nearly seven years ago." "Something," indeed; and one's only
wonder is how he, and still more Mrs Arnold (especially as they now
had three children), could have endured the other thing so long. There
is no direct information in the _Letters_ as to the reason of
this nomadic existence, the only headquarters of which appear to have
been the residence of Mrs Arnold's father, the judge, in Eaton Place,
with flights to friends' houses and to lodgings at the places of
inspection and others, especially Dover and Brighton. And guesswork is
nowhere more unprofitable than in cases where private matters of
income, taste, and other things are concerned. But it certainly would
appear, though I have no positive information on the subject, that in
the early days of State interference with education "My Lords" managed
matters with an equally sublime disregard of the comfort of their
officials and the probable efficiency of the system.[1]
Till I noticed the statement quoted opposite, I was quite unable to
construct any reasonable theory from such a passage as that in a
letter of December 1852[2] and from others which show us Mr Arnold in
Lincolnshire, in Shropshire, and in the eastern counties. Even with
the elucidation it seems a shockingly bad system. One doubts whether
it be worse for an inspector or for the school inspected by him, that
he should have no opportunity for food from breakfast to four o'clock,
when he staves off death by inviting disease in the shape of the
malefic bun; for him or for certain luckless pupil-teachers that,
after dinner, he should be "in for [them] till ten o'clock." With this
kind of thing when on duty, and no home when off it, a man must begin
to appreciate the Biblical passages about partridges, and the wings of
a dove, and so forth, most heartily and vividly long before seven
years are out, more particularly if he be a man so much given to
domesticity as was Matthew Arnold.
However, it was, no doubt, not so bad as it looks. They say the rack
is not, though probably no one would care to try. There were holidays;
there was a large circle of hospitable family friends, and strangers
were only too anxious to welcome (and perhaps to propitiate) Her
Majesty's Inspector. The agreeable anomalies of the British legal
system (which, let Dickens and other grumblers say what they like,
have made many good people happy and only a few miserable) allowed Mr
Arnold for many years to act (sometimes while simultaneously
inspecting) as his father-in-law's Marshal on circuit, with varied
company and scenery, little or nothing to do, a handsome fee for doing
it, and no worse rose-leaf in the bed than heavy dinners and hot port
wine, even this being alleviated by "the perpetual haunch of venison."
For the rest, there are some pleasing miscellaneous touches in the
letters for these years, and there is a certain liveliness of phrase
in them which disappears in the later. It is pleasant to find Mr
Arnold on his first visit to Cambridge (where, like a good
Wordsworthian, he wanted above all things to see the statue of Newton)
saying what all of us say, "I feel that the Middle Ages, and all their
poetry and impressiveness, are in Oxford and not here." In one letter
--written to his sister "K" (Mrs Forster) as his critical letters
usually are--we find three noteworthy criticisms on contemporaries,
all tinged with that slight want of cordial appreciation which
characterises his criticism of this kind throughout (except, perhaps,
in the case of Browning). The first is on Alexander Smith--it was the
time of the undue ascension of the _Life-Drama_ rocket before its
equally undue fall. "It can do me no good [an odd phrase] to be
irritated with that young man, who certainly has an extraordinary
faculty, although I think he is a phenomenon of a very dubious
character." The second, harsher but more definite, is on
_Villette_. "Why is _Villette_ disagreeable? Because the
writer's mind [it is worth remembering that he had met Charlotte
Bront� at Miss Martineau's] contains nothing but hunger, rebellion,
and rage, and therefore that is all she can in fact put into her book.
No fine writing can hide this thoroughly, and it will be fatal to her
in the long-run." The Fates were kinder: and Miss Bront�'s mind did
contain something besides these ugly things. But it _was_ her
special weakness that her own thoughts and experiences were
insufficiently mingled and tempered by a wider knowledge of life and
literature. The third is on _My Novel_, which he says he has
"read with great pleasure, though Bulwer's nature is by no means a
perfect one either, which makes itself felt in his book; but his gush,
his better humour, his abundant materials, and his mellowed
constructive skill--all these are great things." One would give many
pages of the _Letters_ for that na�f admission that "gush" is "a
great thing."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|