1. Alaric at Rome, [(4)].
  2. Bacchanalia, or the New Age, [(114)].
  3. Balder Dead, [(52)], [(53)].
  4. Byron, Poetry of, ed. Arnold, [(185)].
  5. Celtic Literature, On the Study of, [(66)], [(104)] et seq.
  6. Church of Brou, The, [(38)].
  7. Consolation, [(28)].
  8. Cromwell, [(8)], [(9)].
  9. Culture and Anarchy, [(128)] et seq.
  10. Discourses in America, [(195)].
  11. Dover Beach, [(112)].
  12. Empedocles on Etna, [(23)].
  13. Essays in Criticism, [(83)] et seq., [(123)].
  14. Eton, A French, [(79)] et seq.
  15. Farewell, A, [(27)].
  16. Forsaken Merman, The, [(19)].
  17. French Eton, A, [(79)] et seq.
  18. Friend, To a, sonnet, [(15)].
  19. Friendship’s Garland, [(148)].
  20. God and the Bible, [(137)].
  21. Heine’s Grave, [(115)].
  22. Homer, On Translating, [(66)].
  23. In Utrumque Paratus, [(20)].
  24. Irish Essays, [(151)].
  25. Isolation, [(31)].
  26. Johnson’s Lives of the Poets, ed. Arnold, [(169)].
  27. Last Essays on Church and Religion, [(137)], [(142)].
  28. Letters, [(1)], [(15)] et seq., [(214)].
  29. Lines written by a Death-bed, [(32)].
  30. Literature and Dogma, [(131)] et seq.
  31. Longing, [(30)].
  32. Marguerite, To, [(31)].
  33. Memorial Verses, [(26)].
  34. Merman, The Forsaken, [(19)].
  35. Merope, [(60)].
  36. Mixed Essays, [(168)] et seq.
  37. Modern Sappho, The, [(17)].
  38. Mycerinus, [(13)].
  39. New Sirens, The, [(17)].
  40. Obermann, [(53)].
  41. On the Rhine, [(29)].
  42. On the Study of Celtic Literature, [(66)], [(104)] et seq.
  43. On the Terrace at Berne, [(16)].
  44. On Translating Homer, [(66)].
  45. Preface, the, to the ‘Poems’ of 1853. [(33)] et seq.
  46. Prose Passages, [(166)].
  47. Renan, Arnold’s relations with, [(101)].
  48. Requiescat, [(39)].
  49. Resignation, [(20)], [(185)].
  50. Rugby Chapel, [(115)].
  51. Sainte-Beuve, [(59)], [(203)].
  52. Scholar-Gipsy, The, [(5)], [(40)] et seq.
  53. Schools and Universities on the Continent, [(116)].
  54. Selected Poems, [(184)].
  55. Shairp, Principal, lines on Arnold by, [(5)].
  56. Shakespeare, Sonnet to, [(15)].
  57. Sick King in Bokhara, [(15)].
  58. Sohrab and Rustum, [(37)], [(51)], [(52)].
  59. Southey, use of rhymeless metre by, [(11)].
  60. St Brandan, [(111)].
  61. St Paul and Protestantism, [(130)] et seq.
  62. Stagirius, [(19)].
  63. Strayed Reveller, The, [(10)] et seq.
  64. Summer Night, A, [(26)].
  65. Switzerland, [(16)].
  66. Tennyson, influence of, on Arnold, [(19)].
  67. Thyrsis, [(111)].
  68. To Fausta, [(19)].
  69. To Marguerite, [(31)].
  70. To my Friends who Ridiculed a Tender Leave-taking, [(16)], [(27)].
  71. Tristram and Iseult, [(24)], [(25)].
  72. Voice, The, [(19)].
  73. Ward’s English Poets, Arnold’s Introduction to, [(189)].
  74. Westminster Abbey, [(207)], [(220)], [(228)].
  75. Wordsworth, Poems of, ed. Arnold, [(185)].

The End.

Printed by William Blackwood and Sons.

[ Footnote 1: ] Mr Arthur Galton’s Matthew Arnold (London, 1897) adds a few pleasant notes, chiefly about dachshunds.

[ Footnote 2: ] It is impossible, in dealing with them, to be too grateful to Mr. T.B. Smart’s Bibliography of Matthew Arnold (London, 1892), a most craftsmanlike piece of work.

[ Footnote 3: ] The editor glosses this variously spelt and etymologically puzzling word “landing-stage.” But unless I mistake, a “kempshott,” “campshed,” or “campshedding” is not a landing-stage (though it helps to make one) so much as a river-wall of stakes and planks, put to guard the bank against floods, the wash of barges, &c.

[ Footnote 4: ] Glen Desseray and other Poems. By John Campbell Shairp, London, 1888. P. 218.

[ Footnote 5: ] This statement may seem too sweeping, especially as there is neither room nor occasion for justifying it fully. Let us only indicate, as among the heads of such a justification, the following sins of English criticism between 1840-1860,—the slow and reluctant acceptance even of Tennyson, even of Thackeray; the obstinate refusal to give Browning, even after Bells and Pomegranates, a fair hearing; the recalcitrance to Carlyle among the elder, and Mr Ruskin among the younger, innovators in prose; the rejection of a book of erratic genius like Lavengro; the ignoring of work of such combined intrinsic beauty and historic importance as The Defence of Guenevere and FitzGerald’s Omar Khayyam. For a sort of quintessence of literary Philistinism, see the advice of Richard Ford (himself no Philistine) to George Borrow, in Professor Knapp’s Life of the latter, i. 387.

[ Footnote 6: ] This “undertone,” as Mr Shairp calls it.

[ Footnote 7: ] “What, then, are the situations, from the representation of which, though accurate, no poetical enjoyment can be derived? They are those in which the suffering finds no vent in action; in which a continuous state of mental distress is prolonged, unrelieved by incident, hope, or resistance; in which there is everything to be endured, nothing to be done. In such situations there is inevitably something morbid, in the description of them something monotonous. When they occur in actual life, they are painful, not tragic; the representation of them in poetry is painful also.”