THE AUGUST FIELDS. gI 
“In simple states of culture the feeling for Nature may 
appear hearty and subtile and have the charm of un- 
conscious simplicity,” continues Biese, “but the perfect 
development into true manhood which is built on the 
foundations of a higher culture makes man susceptible 
to the plastic power of Nature. In different stages of 
culture Nature will make different impressions upon 
” 
men. 
Long ago Sophocles, thinking of the gentle An- 
tigone, stood by the blue A®gean and heard the grating 
roar of the pebbles which the waves, driven by blasts 
from the Thracian coasts, drew back and flung at their 
return up the high strand, and there came into his mind 
the thought of the turbid ebb and flow of human mis- 
ery that creeps to generations far. Matthew Arnold, 
thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the old Greek 
culture modified by the powerful influences of the best 
modern training and thought, has looked from his 
window at Dover out over the straits to the cliffs near 
at hand and the gleaming light on the French coast, 
and to his mind has come a picture of the Sea of Faith 
once at the full but now 
“Retreating to the breath 
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear 
And naked shingles of the world.” 
While he can say his special thanks are due to Soph- 
ocles 
