Matthew Arnold wrote “The Study of Poetry” as an introduction to an 1880 anthology called The English Poets, and in it he refines his answers to what he considered the most important questions facing literary critics and readers: what function does poetry serve in modern society? What kind of poetry is best suited to serve these functions? What distinguishes truly excellent poetry from merely good poetry, and how can readers learn to recognize classic poetry when they see it? Behind Arnold’s questions and the answers he gives to them, readers can discern the central principle that defines his views on culture and society: transcendent excellence does exist, poetry is where it can be found, and people should strive to honor it. In a nutshell, Arnold argues that poetry is a uniquely excellent art form and that, due to its virtues, it has a “high destiny” in human affairs; since this destiny touches on the highest aspirations of human beings, nothing but the highest standards will do, and readers must train themselves to uphold these standards. It is this task that Arnold offers to train readers to develop.
Arnold begins explaining this vital task—learning to discern the excellent qualities in poetry—by distinguishing the true estimate of a poem’s worth (Arnold’s argument assumes that a given poem has a single true worth that can be accurately discerned). The way to find this true estimate is from first identifying two false estimates. The true estimate is called the real estimate, and the false estimates are called the historic estimate and the personal estimate. According to Arnold, the real estimate is the only true determination of a poem’s value; he also insists that the real estimate determines whether or not a poem belongs to the highest echelon of poetry, believing that the only reason to read poetry in the first place is to engage with the greatest works humanity can possibly offer.
The historic estimate of a poem, on the other hand, comes from its importance as a historical object: for example, this estimate is tied to the poem’s place in the development of a language, a poetic movement, or various historical events. Arnold makes it clear that, whatever virtues attach to this historic estimate, it must be distinguished from the real estimate, which is timeless. Likewise, the personal estimate comes from individual tastes and preferences: this estimate is tied to the reader’s likes and dislikes—considerations that Arnold thinks must, like the historic estimate, be divorced from the kind of considerations that go into arriving at the real estimate of a poem. Arnold gives the example of the Scottish poet Robert Burns, whose work tends to be dear to the Scottish but falls short of the highest echelon of greatness in a broader sense.
What, then, decides the real estimate of a poem’s value, and how can a reader arrive at this estimate? In addition to typical poetic virtues such as beauty, rhythm, and inventiveness, Arnold describes an important element that characterizes poems of the highest worth and that readers must learn to recognize. He calls this element high seriousness. Arnold traces his concept of high seriousness to Aristotle, who valued poetry over history for its “higher truth and a higher seriousness.” Arnold is somewhat vague about what this high seriousness consists of, but it is clear from an example he gives from Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy that it involves treating the most important matters—such as fate and free will—with the gravity of a poet who really appreciates the significance of such themes.
Arnold’s term for the way a poet approaches such things is criticism of life. The criticism of life in the work of a humorous poet like Chaucer or a prosaic poet like Dryden, Arnold argues, does not have the high seriousness that the work of Dante, Homer, Shakespeare, or Milton has. Indeed, the way to arrive at the real estimate of a poem, Arnold clarifies, is to constantly compare a given poem to the works of these poets, a procedure that Arnold demonstrates in his essay. If it matches the artistic greatness and high seriousness of poetry by Dante, Homer, Shakespeare, and Milton, then it is poetry of the first rank—if not, then it is probably not worth spending much time on, in Arnold’s view.
Arnold closes his essay by returning to the prediction he made in the beginning: poetry’s “high destiny” in human affairs will ensure that it never fades or perishes, and if it seems at times that society turns away from poetry, this is only temporary, since human beings will always return to poetry in times of great need.
