It is interesting to recall that Charles Kingsley praised Culture and Anarchy in a letter which greatly pleased Arnold, as showing “the generous and affectionate side” of Kingsley’s disposition.  And this is his answer to Kingsley’s praise:  “Of my reception by the general public I have, perhaps, no cause to boast; but from the men who lead in literature, from men like you, I have met with nothing but kindness and generosity.  The being thrown so much for the last twenty years with Dissenters, and the observing their great strength and their great impenetrability—­how they seemed to think that in their ’gospel’—­a mere caricature, in truth, of the real Gospel—­they had a secret which enabled them to judge all literature and all art and to keep aloof from modern ideas—­set me on thinking how they might be got at, and on the use of this parallel of Hebraism and Hellenism.  If I was to think only of the Dissenters, or if I were in your position, I should press incessantly for more Hellenism; but, as it is, seeing the tendency of our young poetical litterateur (Swinburne), and, on the other hand, seeing much of Huxley (whom I thoroughly liked and admire, but find very disposed to be tyrannical and unjust), I lean towards Hebraism, and try to prevent the balance from on this side flying up out of sight.”  Dean Church, also, in writing about the book, expressed “his sense of the importance of the distinction between Hellenism and Hebraism.”  “This,” said Arnold, “showed his width of mind”; for “it is a distinction on which more and more will turn, and on dealing wisely with it everything depends.”

I have dwelt at this rather disproportionate length on the structure and teaching of Culture and Anarchy, partly because it was to men who were young in 1869 a landmark in their mental life, and partly because it gives the whole body of Arnold’s political and social teaching.  He pursued this line of thought for twenty years; Friendship’s Garland, with its inimitable fun, appeared in 1871, and was followed by a long series of essays and lectures; but the germ of whatever he subsequently wrote is to be found in Culture and Anarchy.  And from that memorable book what did we learn?

To answer first by negatives, we did not learn to undervalue personal liberty, or to stand aloof from the practical work of citizenship, or to despise Parliamentary effort and its bearing on the better life of England.  To these lessons of a fascinating teacher we closed our ears, charmed he never so wisely.  To answer affirmatively, we learned that our first object must be to attain our own best self, and that only so could we hope to help others.  We learned to discard prepossessions, and try to see things as they really are.  We learned that the Liberty which we worshipped must be conditioned by Authority—­an authority not wielded by rank or bureaucracy, but by the State acting as a whole through its accredited representatives,