In April, 1865, he was sent abroad for eight months to make further reports on the Continental Schools. He did not like the Italians and believed them incapable of self-government. He thought them "no more civilized by their refinement alone than the English by their energy alone."
Matthew Arnold was a good type of the modern prophet, but his prophecies were not always justified by events: as he thought the new realm of Italy was only a fair-weather kingdom, so he declared that the French would easily defeat the Germans. What he saw in Germany was for the most part unattractive millions inconceivably ugly and speaking a hideous language. His dislike for America and Americans, as standing for the opposite of all his ideals, almost reached contempt. He himself denied that he had contempt for unintellectual people. But his expressions made people think so. He once wrote to his wife: "I am much struck with the utter unfitness of women for teachers or lecturers." These prejudices, which have to be taken into consideration, for the world judged him by them, misjudged him by them, were the defects of his qualities.
They never influenced his warmth of heart, his loyal affection for friends of every race, whether Italians, Germans, or Americans! Few, except his intimates, knew how constantly he went about doing good: looking after the interests of employés and school teachers. Once it was his duty as inspector sharply to criticise a certain school: the school-master, nevertheless, remarked of him that he was "always gentle and patient with the children."
His tenderness to his own children, his thought for their comfort, his beautiful affection for his dear old mother, to whom he wrote long letters no matter how busy he was, find in his letters their unaffected affecting record. Once he expresses his delight at receiving a box of Manila cheroots, not for himself, for he did not smoke, but to send to his brother, "dear old Tom," who had too few creature comforts. He tells his mother his daily occupations:—
Writing letters before breakfast, working at his Club or at the rooms of the School Society six or seven hours, then at home till midnight, with perhaps an hour's recreation—botanizing in summer, skating in winter—every moment full. It was his ambition to use the years from forty till fifty with poetry, but he did not escape the fatal drudgery.
This year appeared his "Essays in Criticism," eight of the nine being articles reprinted from various reviews. These calm,
