be solely a character study; instead, it should scrutinize its dramatic execution. Eliot deems the play an "artistic failure" due to its "inexpressible" core emotion, arguing that Shakespeare grappled with a challenge beyond even his formidable talent.

The ensuing essays critique Elizabethan and Jacobean playwrights. Eliot praises Ben Jonson as an exceptional poet "of the surface," whose characters, though lacking Shakespeare's "inner life," seamlessly integrate into Jonson's crafted universe. Jonson's "fine sense of form" and deliberate philosophy render his work profoundly rewarding, albeit demanding significant effort to fully appreciate.

Thomas Middleton, in stark contrast, is perceived by Eliot as lacking a "point of view" or "personality," yet he excels in capturing the "permanent human impulse" that Eliot deems crucial. Meanwhile, Thomas Heywood, noted by Eliot as possessing "no imaginative humor," finds his success within the "drama of common life," likened to soap operas. Heywood's creations, Eliot argues, pale when set against the dazzling beauty of Shakespeare's verse and drama.

Cyril Tourneur, often credited with penning only two plays, emerges as a dramatist par excellence akin to Middleton. A detailed examination of Tourneur's works uncovers that The Revenger's Tragedy, despite being an "isolated masterpiece" of seemingly superior craftsmanship than The Atheist's Tragedy, was actually written before, as evidenced by the "immaturity" of its grim moral vision, according to Eliot.

John Ford, on the other hand, despite moments of striking and singular style in blank verse, is said to lack a cohesive "purpose" in his plays. Eliot asserts that Ford misses the "soul of the poet," an essence Eliot believes is indispensable to the great masters.

Eliot underscores the necessity of understanding Elizabethan writers within a broad scholarly framework. He describes Philip Massinger as a poet endowed with "exceptionally superior... literary talent," favoring a style that anticipates the Restoration. However, Eliot critiques Massinger for possessing a "paltry imagination" and lacking the ability to capture human emotion as his predecessors did.

Section 4

The ensuing essay delves into The Divine Comedy, crafted by the medieval Italian poet Dante Alighieri. This monumental poem is divided into three segments: Inferno ("Hell"), Purgatorio ("Purgatory"), and Paradiso ("Heaven"), documenting Dante's journey from the infernal depths, through the cleansing trials of purgatory, to the celestial heights where he beholds God. Eliot extols Dante as the most "universal" poet since antiquity, attributing this to his vivid imagination and the unifying Christian philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas that permeated his era.

Eliot examines Dante's intricate use of allegory, where nearly every element symbolizes a concept within the Christian philosophical realm. While one can appreciate the poem without grasping these symbols, Eliot suggests a deeper exploration of their meanings enriches understanding. He asserts that through allegory, Dante navigates the "complete scale of the depths and heights of human emotion." Eliot concludes by reflecting on Dante's early work, Vita Nuova ("New Life"), which explicates a significant symbol in the Divine Comedy: Beatrice, whom Dante cherishes first as a mortal woman, then as an embodiment of divine virtue.

Section 5

In "The Metaphysical Poets," Eliot argues that the diversity and "permanent value" of these poets defy the constraints of their collective title. Although their works sometimes feature "metaphysical conceits"—elaborate metaphors extended to remarkable lengths—it is the depth of feeling in their verses that surpasses that of modern poets. Eliot notes their quest to "find the verbal equivalent for states of mind and feeling."

An essay on Andrew Marvell expands on Eliot's admiration for seventeenth-century poetry (pre-Charles II Restoration). While Marvell may not rank among the greatest poets, his generation's "wit" and equilibrium between jest and earnestness shine in his best work. The "precious and needed and apparently extinct" qualities in "minor" poets like Marvell reveal to Eliot the poetic superiority of the era.

In "John Dryden," Eliot posits that appreciation for this eighteenth-century poet waned due to the poor taste of the nineteenth century, which dismissed Dryden's themes. Though Eliot concedes Dryden lacks "insight," he lauds Dryden's expansive range, sharp wit, and lyrical brilliance, deeming him an enjoyable, influential, and significant poet.

William Blake, despite his original brilliance and "considerable understanding of human nature," fails to meet Eliot's criteria for a "first-order poet" due to his absence of a "framework of traditional ideas." In his essay on Blake, Eliot critiques Blake's "visionary" philosophy as being too incomplete and "remote from the world," deficient in an appreciation of tradition.

"Swinburne As Poet" briefly contrasts Swinburne's works with poetry imbued with more substance and significance. Though Eliot acknowledges Swinburne's linguistic prowess, he criticizes Swinburne's meaning as "merely the hallucination of meaning," existing solely within language, devoid of genuine human emotion.

Section 6

In "Lancelot Andrewes" and "John Bramhall," Eliot discusses two prominent seventeenth-century bishops of the Church of England. He observes that Bishop Andrewes, although his writings are dense and not "entertaining," crafted some of the "finest prose" in English, owing to his unwavering dedication to his theological subjects.

Bishop Bramhall, Eliot contends, is insufficiently recognized for his "mastery" of logical reasoning. The essay juxtaposes Bramhall's work with that of Thomas Hobbes, revealing that the Bishop embodies the "historical sense," "philosophical basis," and necessary "middle way" of argumentation that Hobbes lacks.

"Thoughts after Lambeth" expands on Eliot's perspectives regarding contemporary schisms within the Church of England by analyzing the 1930 Lambeth Conference Report. This decennial gathering serves as the principal platform for Anglican Church leaders. Despite the report's occasional "verbiage," Eliot notes, the conference signified "an important stage" towards the reunification of Christian sects. Ultimately, it succeeded in clarifying the Church of England's theological stance amid intense division and controversy.

Section 7

The final segment of Selected Essays, 1917-1932 delves into the realm of nineteenth-century luminaries, beginning with an insightful exploration of Baudelaire. To truly grasp the essence of this pivotal French poet, Eliot seeks to "affirm the importance of Baudelaire's prose works." Through these writings, Baudelaire reveals both a keen "sense of his age" and the "inner disorder" that plagued his era. This duality emerges through his poetry, which, while boasting an exceptional "superficial form," struggles with a lack of inner cohesion.

Victorian Voices

Following this, two essays cast a discerning eye on Walter Pater and Francis Herbert Bradley, comparing them to Matthew Arnold, the illustrious critic renowned for his reflections on literature and society. In "Arnold and Pater," it is argued that Pater's "art for art's sake" theory — which champions the notion that art need not adhere to external standards — aligns with Arnold's own philosophical musings. Yet, both philosophies, in Eliot's eyes, represent "the degradation of philosophy and religion," as they exchange theological ideals for cultural ones.

Eliot continues by asserting that Bradley's prose shares thematic links with Arnold's work. However, unlike Pater, Bradley is a meticulous philosophical thinker who succeeds in providing a coherent foundation for Arnold's philosophical endeavors, where Arnold himself fell short.

Performers and Prose

A succinct essay extols the renowned actress Marie Lloyd, noting her "understanding of the people and sympathy with them." The subsequent piece, "Wilkie Collins and Dickens," highlights the significance of compelling drama and sophisticated characterization. While Collins may not have crafted characters with the same intrigue and depth as Dickens, he was undeniably a virtuoso of melodramatic storytelling.

Exploring Humanism

The subsequent essays unfold Eliot's perspective on "humanism," a philosophy that venerates the classics. In "Second Thoughts About Humanism," Eliot clarifies his endorsement of what he deems "pure humanism," which promotes "breadth, tolerance, equilibrium and sanity." However, he contests the version of humanism associated with his former professor, Irving Babbitt, arguing that it fails by inadequately dismissing the role of religion.

In "Charles Whibley," Eliot lauds his contemporary as a masterful journalist, whose writing captures "life" with the vitality of natural speech. Whibley stands as a critic of note, armed with extensive literary acumen and "personal gusto and curiosity."