As a child I loved to sit on a jagged rock at high tide with the sea swirling around me and imagine I was far away. For me the sea has always taken on a life of its own. That is why I can relate to Matthew Arnold's use of the sea in this poem as both an image and a metaphor. Initially it is beautiful to look at in the moonlight, but then it starts to sound more hostile with its "grating roar" and promotes a feeling of sadness in its "tremulous cadence".
At this point the "Sea of Faith" rises, symbolic of a time when religion was simple, unpolluted by the doubts brought about by progress and science. Finally, the sea recedes, just as the certainty of religion withdraws itself from the human grasp, leaving only darkness behind. The reader can feel the ebb and flow of the tides as he contemplates the meaning behind these lines.
It is surely ironic that the poet, Matthew Arnold, himself an agnostic, should write a lament to the world's loss of religious faith at a time when science and industry were taking centre stage. Written around 1851, "Dover Beach" was not published until 1867.
This poem consists of five uneven stanzas, into which I have divided the poem for ease of analysis.
"The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
In this first stanza the speaker is depicted standing at a window looking out at the sea. In this introduction he describes the sea in a very positive way. He uses adjectives such as "calm", "fair" and "tranquil" to create a harmonious mood. He seems to be addressing a loved one, whom he begs to "Come to the window, sweet is the night air!" It sounds like a romantic invitation to share the lovely scene: "The sea is calm tonight / The tide is full, the moon lies fair." But that is not the case, as the reader discovers later in the poem.
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Here the speaker describes vividly the crashing waves upon the beach: "Listen! You hear the grating roar/ Of pebbles which the waves draw back." A note of unending sadness accompanies the endless ebb and flow of the waves upon the shore. Arnold refuses to allow nature to bring peace to his troubled mind, instead embracing human misery.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the gean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The speaker then alludes to Sophocles' hearing the "ebb and flow" long ago "on the Aegean." It seems Sophocles, in his looking out over the Aegean sea, shared Arnold's dismal mood in the contemplation of human misery. However, the poet then turns the allusion, saying, "we / Find also in the sound a thought, / Hearing it by this distant northern sea." Arnold has an additional thought, which he will clarify in the fourth stanza.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
What could be sadder, for the believer, than to be an onlooker in the agnostic's struggle herein described by Arnold. Faith, which in a previous age seemed to be so straightforward and all-encompassing, like the sea at full tide, has now, in the poet's perception, been reduced to the rapidly vanishing, outgoing tide. It retreats with a roar, leaving the uncovered pebbles behind. In such a way has Arnold's faith abated.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
Here, then, is Arnold's only remedy for this loss of faith. He seems at first to be addressing his beloved, the one whom, in the first stanza, he invited to join him at the window. On the other hand, he may be imploring all humanity to take this vow of truth. If so, his musings have a far greater universal appeal. The initial invitation then would indicate that he is asking all humanity to notice the negatives and the positives of human activity, and then take truth to "one another" to be a restorative virtue.
The poem illustrates the contrast between hope and reality. While wishing for a peaceful world, it recognizes that this is virtually impossible. Perhaps Arnold is referring to the industrial revolution with which he was a contemporary. This brought about great changes in society, and many were unhappy with their new life. Religion began to be questioned and Darwinism was embraced as a possible alternative. All that was once sacred and accepted was now open to debate.