glorious tasks in silence perfecting." To stand apart from fierce explosions like the Revolution was his desire, but he forgot that Nature sometimes works by explosions, relieving by them her over-burdened breast, and that revolutions are in a strict analogy with her volcanic outbursts. Yet Arnold would have disliked Nature's catastrophes and blamed her for them. His work was to be, he hoped, done with patience, trusting his own soul, choosing one clear aim, and confident that in following it sincerely he would best assist the world. It was for that he praised the Duke of Wellington. He had a vision, Arnold thought, of the general law, saw what he could and could not do, and followed the one thing he saw. That made, among all the fret and foam of Europe acting without sight of a clear goal, the splendour of his place in history. But to fulfil this resolve clearness of vision was the great need, that clearness which all his life was Arnold's deep desire. In a noble sonnet, To a Friend, he asked who are they who support his mind in these bad days? They are Homer, whose clear soul though his eyes were blind, saw man and life so well; and, for the inner strength of the soul, Epictetus, whose friendship he had lately won; and, for the just and temperate view of life, Sophocles—
From first youth tested up to extreme old age,
Business could not make dull, nor passion wild;
Who saw life steadily, and saw it whole.
