'Then let me gaze--till I become In soul, with what I gaze on, wed! To feel the universe my home; To have before my mind--instead 'Of the sick room, the mortal strife, The turmoil for a little breath-- The pure eternal course of life, Not human combatings with death! 'Thus feeling, gazing, let me grow Composed, refresh'd, ennobled, clear-- Then willing let my spirit go To work or wait, elsewhere or here!' To turn from Arnold's poetry to his theological writings--if so grim a name can be given to these productions--from _Rugby Chapel_ to _Literature and Dogma_, from _Obermann_ to _God and the Bible_, from _Empedocles on Etna_ to _St. Paul and Protestantism_, is to descend from the lofty table-lands, 'From the dragon-warder'd fountains Where the springs of knowledge are, From the watchers on the mountains And the bright and morning star,' to the dusty highroad. It cannot, I think, be asserted that either the plan or the style of these books was in keeping with their subjects. It was characteristic of Mr. Arnold, and like his practical turn of mind, to begin _Literature and Dogma_ in the _Cornhill Magazine_. A book rarely shakes off the first draft--_Literature and Dogma_ never did. It is full of repetitions and wearisome recapitulations, well enough in a magazine where each issue is sure to be read by many who will never see another number, but which disfigure a book. The style is likewise too jaunty. Bantering the Trinity is not yet a recognised English pastime. Bishop-baiting is, but this notwithstanding, most readers of _Literature and Dogma_ grew tired of the Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol and of his alleged desire to do something for the honour of the Godhead, long before Mr. Arnold showed any signs of weariness. But making all these abatements, and fully admitting that _Literature and Dogma_ is not likely to prove permanently interesting to the English reader, it must be pronounced a most valuable and useful book, and one to which the professional critics and philosophers never did justice. The object of _Literature and Dogma_ was no less than the restoration of the use of the Bible to the sceptical laity. It was a noble object, and it was in a great measure, as thousands of quiet people could testify, attained. It was not a philosophical treatise. In its own way it was the same kind of thing as many of Cardinal Newman's writings. It started with an assumption, namely, that it is impossible to believe in the miracles recorded in the Old and New Testaments. There is no laborious attempt to distinguish between one miracle and another, or to lighten the burden of faith in any particular. Nor is any serious attempt made to disprove miracles. Mr. Arnold did not write for those who find no difficulty in believing in the first chapter of St. Luke's gospel, or the sixteenth chapter of St. Mark's, but for those who simply cannot believe a word of