Books: Lives of the Poets: Waller, Milton, Cowley
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Samuel Johnson >> Lives of the Poets: Waller, Milton, Cowley
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That Salmasius was, from the appearance of Milton's book, treated
with neglect, there is not much proof; but to a man, so long
accustomed to admiration, a little praise of his antagonist would be
sufficiently offensive, and might incline him to leave Sweden, from
which however he was dismissed, not with any mark of contempt, but
with a train of attendants scarce less than regal.
He prepared a reply, which, left as it was imperfect, was published
by his son in the year of the Restoration. In the beginning, being
probably most in pain for his Latinity, he endeavours to defend his
use of the word persona; but, if I remember right, he misses a
better authority than any that he has found, that of Juvenal in his
fourth satire:
- Quid agis cum dira et foedior omni
Crimine persona est?
As Salmasius reproached Milton with losing his eyes in the quarrel,
Milton delighted himself with the belief that he had shortened
Salmasius's life, and both perhaps with more malignity than reason.
Salmasius died at the Spa, Sept. 3, 1653; and, as controvertists are
commonly said to be killed by their last dispute, Milton was
flattered with the credit of destroying him.
Cromwell had now dismissed the parliament by the authority of which
he had destroyed monarchy, and commenced monarch himself, under the
title of Protector, but with kingly and more than kingly power.
That his authority was lawful, never was pretended; he himself
founded his right only in necessity; but Milton, having now tasted
the honey of public employment, would not return to hunger and
philosophy, but, continuing to exercise his office under a manifest
usurpation, betrayed to his power that liberty which he had
defended. Nothing can be more just than that rebellion should end
in slavery; that he, who had justified the murder of his king, for
some acts which seemed to him unlawful, should now sell his
services, and his flatteries, to a tyrant, of whom it was evident
that he could do nothing lawful.
He had now been blind for some years; but his vigour of intellect
was such, that he was not disabled to discharge his office of Latin
secretary, or continue his controversies. His mind was too eager to
be diverted, and too strong to be subdued.
About this time his first wife died in childbed, having left him
three daughters. As he probably did not much love her, he did not
long continue the appearance of lamenting her; but after a short
time married Catharine, the daughter of one Captain Woodcock, of
Hackney, a woman doubtless educated in opinions like his own. She
died, within a year, of childbirth, or some distemper that followed
it; and her husband honoured her memory with a poor sonnet.
The first reply to Milton's "Defensio Populi" was published in 1651,
called "Apologia pro Rege et Populo Anglicano, contra Johannis
Polypragmatici (alias Miltoni) defensionem destructivam Regis et
Populi." Of this the author was not known; but Milton and his
nephew Philips, under whose name he published an answer so much
corrected by him, that it might be called his own, imputed it to
Bramhal; and, knowing him no friend to regicides, thought themselves
at liberty to treat him as if they had known what they only
suspected.
Next year appeared "Regii Sanguinis clamor ad Coelum." Of this the
author was Peter du Moulin, who was afterwards prebendary of
Canterbury; but Morus, or More, a French minister, having the care
of its publication, was treated as the writer by Milton, in his
"Defensio Secunda," and overwhelmed by such violence of invective,
that he began to shrink under the tempest, and gave his persecutors
the means of knowing the true author. Du Moulin was now in great
danger; but Milton's pride operated against his malignity; and both
he and his friends were more willing that Du Moulin should escape
than that he should be convicted of mistake.
In this second Defence he shows that his eloquence is not merely
satirical; the rudeness of his invective is equalled by the
grossness of his flattery, Deserimur, Cromuelle tu solus superes, ad
te summa nostrarum rerum, rediit, in te solo consistit, insuperabili
tuae virtuti cedimus cuncti, nemine vel obloquente, nisi qui
aequales inaequalis ipse honores sibi quaerit, aut digniori
concessos invidet, aut non intelligit nihil esse in societate
hominum magis vel Deo gratum, vel rationi consentaneum, esse in
civitate nihil aequius, nihil utilius, quam potiri rerum
dignissimum. Eum te agnoscunt omnes, Cromuelle, ea tu civis
maximus, et gloriosissimus, dux publici consilii, exercituum
fortissimorum imperator, pater patriae gessisti. Sic tu spontanea
bonorum omnium et animitus missa voce salutaris.
Caesar, when he assumed the perpetual dictatorship, had not more
servile or more elegant flattery. A translation may show its
servility; but its elegance is less attainable. Having exposed the
unskilfulness or selfishness of the former government, "We were
left," says Milton, "to ourselves: the whole national interest fell
into our hands, and subsists only in your abilities. To your
virtue, overpowering and resistless, every man gives way, except
some who, without equal qualifications, aspire to equal honours, who
envy the distinctions of merit greater than their own, or who have
yet to learn, that in the coalition of human society nothing is more
pleasing to God, or more agreeable to reason, than that the highest
mind should have the sovereign power. Such, sir, are you by general
confession; such are the things achieved by you, the greatest and
most glorious of our countrymen, the director of our public
councils, the leader of unconquered armies, the father of your
country; for by that title doss every good man hail you with sincere
and voluntary praise."
Next year, having defended all that wanted defence, he found leisure
to defend himself. He undertook his own vindication against More,
whom he declares in his title to be justly called the author of the
"Regii Sanguinis Clamor." In this there is no want of vehemence nor
eloquence, nor does he forget his wonted wit. Morus es? an Momus?
an uterque idem est? He then remembers that Morus is Latin for a
mulberry-tree, and hints at the known transformation:
- Poma alba ferebat
Quae post nigra tulit Morus.
With this piece ended his controversies; and he from this time gave
himself up to his private studies and his civil employment.
As secretary to the Protector he is supposed to have written the
Declaration of the reasons for a war with Spain. His agency was
considered as of great importance; for, when a treaty with Sweden
was artfully suspended, the delay was publicly imputed to Mr.
Milton's indisposition; and the Swedish agent was provoked to
express his wonder that only one man in England could write Latin,
and that man blind.
Being now forty-seven years old, and seeing himself disencumbered
from external interruptions, he seems to have recollected his former
purposes, and to have resumed three great works which he had planned
for his future employment--an epic poem, the history of his country,
and a dictionary of the Latin tongue.
To collect a dictionary seems a work of all others least practicable
in a state of blindness, because it depends upon perpetual and
minute inspection and collation. Nor would Milton probably have
begun it, after he had lost his eyes; but, having had it always
before him, he continued it, says Philips, "almost to his dying day;
but the papers were so discomposed and deficient, that they could
not be fitted for the press." The compilers of the Latin
dictionary, printed at Cambridge, had the use of those collections
in three folios; but what was their fate afterwards is not known.
To compile a history from various authors, when they can only be
consulted by other eyes, is not easy, nor possible, but with more
skilful and attentive help than can be commonly obtained; and it was
probably the difficulty of consulting and comparing that stopped
Milton's narrative at the Conquest--a period at which affairs were
not very intricate, nor authors very numerous.
For the subject of his epic poem, after much deliberation, long
choosing, and beginning late, he fixed upon "Paradise Lost," a
design so comprehensive, that it could be justified only by success.
He had once designed to celebrate King Arthur, as he hints in his
verses to Mansus; but "Arthur was reserved," says Fenton, "to
another destiny."
It appears, by some sketches of poetical projects left in
manuscript, and to be seen in a library at Cambridge, that he had
digested his thoughts on this subject into one of those wild dramas
which were anciently called Mysteries; and Philips had seen what he
terms part of a tragedy, beginning with the first ten lines of
Satan's address to the Sun. These mysteries consist of allegorical
persons, such as Justice, Mercy, Faith. Of the tragedy or mystery
of "Paradise Lost" there are two plans
The Persons. The Persons.
Michael. Moses.
Chorus of Angels. Divine Justice, Wisdom
Heavenly Love. Heavenly Love.
Lucifer. The Evening Star, Hesperus.
Adam, } with the Serpent Chorus of Angels.
Eve, } Lucifer.
Conscience. Adam.
Death. Eve.
Labour, } Conscience.
Sickness, } Labour, }
Discontent, } Mutes. Sickness, }
Ignorance, } Discontent, } Mutes
with others;} Ignorance, }
Faith. Fear, }
Hope. Death, }
Charity. Faith.
Hope.
Charity.
PARADISE LOST.
The Persons.
Moses, [Greek text], recounting how he assumed his true body; that
it corrupts not, because it is with God in the mount; declares the
like of Enoch and Elijah; besides the purity of the place, that
certain pure winds, dews, and clouds, preserve it from corruption;
whence exhorts to the sight of God; tells they cannot see Adam in
the state of innocence, by reason of their sin.
Justice, }
Mercy, } debating what should become of man, if he fall.
Wisdom, }
Chorus of Angels singing a hymn of the Creation.
ACT II.
Heavenly Love.
Evening Star.
Chorus sing the marriage-song, and describe Paradise.
ACT III.
Lucifer contriving Adam's ruin.
Chorus fears for Adam, and relates Lucifer's rebellion and fall.
ACT IV.
Adam, }
Eve, } fallen.
Conscience cites them to God's examination.
Chorus bewails, and tells the good Adam has lost.
ACT V.
Adam and Eve driven out of Paradise.
-- -- presented by an angel with Labour, Grief, Hatred, }
Envy, War, Famine, Pestilence, Sickness, Discontent, }
Ignorance, Fear, Death } Mutes.
To whom he gives their names. Likewise Winter, Heat, Tempest, etc.
Faith, }
Hope, } comfort him and instruct him.
Charity, }
Chorus briefly concludes.
Such was his first design, which could have produced only an
allegory or mystery. The following sketch seems to have attained
more maturity.
ADAM UNPARADISED.
The angel Gabriel, either descending or entering; showing, since
this globe was created, his frequency as much on earth as in heaven;
describes Paradise. Next the Chorus, showing the reason of his
coming to keep his watch in Paradise, after Lucifer's rebellion, by
command from God; and withal expressing his desire to see and know
more concerning this excellent new creature, man. The angel
Gabriel, as by his name signifying a prince of power, tracing
Paradise with a more free office, passes by the station of the
Chorus, and, desired by them, relates what he knew of man; as the
creation of Eve, with their love and marriage. After this, Lucifer
appears; after his overthrow, bemoans himself, seeks revenge on man.
The Chorus prepare resistance on his first approach. At last, after
discourse of enmity on either side, he departs: whereat the Chorus
sings of the battle and victory in Heaven, against him and his
accomplices: as before, after the first act, was sung a hymn of the
creation. Here again may appear Lucifer, relating and exulting in
what he had done to the destruction of man. Man next, and Eve,
having by this time been seduced by the serpent, appears confusedly
covered with leaves. Conscience in a shape accuses him; Justice
cites him to the place whither Jehovah called for him. In the
meanwhile, the Chorus entertains the stage, and is informed by some
angel the manner of the fall. Here the Chorus bewails Adam's fall;
Adam then and Eve return; accuse one another; but especially Adam
lays the blame to his wife; is stubborn in his offence. Justice
appears, reasons with him, convinces him. The Chorus admonishes
Adam, and bids him beware of Lucifer's example of impenitence. The
angel is sent to banish them out of Paradise; but before causes to
pass before his eyes, in shapes, a mask of all the evils of this
life and world. He is humbled, relents, despairs; at last appears
Mercy, comforts him, promises the Messiah; then calls in Faith,
Hope, and Charity;--instructs him; he repents, gives God the glory,
submits to his penalty. The Chorus briefly concludes. Compare this
with the former draft.
These are very imperfect rudiments of "Paradise Lost;" but it is
pleasant to see great works in their seminal state, pregnant with
latent possibilities of excellence; nor could there be any more
delightful entertainment than to trace their gradual growth and
expansion, and to observe how they are sometimes suddenly advanced
by accidental hints, and sometimes slowly improved by steady
meditation.
Invention is almost the only literary labour which blindness cannot
obstruct, and therefore he naturally solaced his solitude by the
indulgence of his fancy, and the melody of his numbers. He had done
what he knew to be necessarily previous to poetical excellence; he
had made himself acquainted with "seemly arts and affairs;" his
comprehension was extended by various knowledge, and his memory
stored with intellectual treasures. He was skilful in many
languages, and had, by reading and composition, attained the full
mastery of his own. He would have wanted little help from books,
had he retained the power of perusing them.
But while his greater designs were advancing, having now, like many
other authors, caught the love of publication, he amused himself, as
he could, with little productions. He sent to the press (1658) a
manuscript of Raleigh, called "The Cabinet Council;" and next year
gratified his malevolence to the clergy, by a "Treatise of Civil
Power in Ecclesiastical Cases, and the Means of removing Hirelings
out of the Church."
Oliver was now dead; Richard constrained to resign; the system of
extemporary government, which had been held together only by force,
naturally fell into fragments when that force was taken away; and
Milton saw himself and his cause in equal danger. But he had still
hope of doing something. He wrote letters, which Toland has
published, to such men as he thought friends to the new
commonwealth; and even in the year of the Restoration he "bated no
jot of heart or hope," but was fantastical enough to think that the
nation, agitated as it was, might be settled by a pamphlet, called
"A Ready and Easy Way to Establish a Free Commonwealth;" which was,
however, enough considered to be both seriously and ludicrously
answered.
The obstinate enthusiasm of the commonwealth-men was very
remarkable. When the king was apparently returning, Harrington,
with a few associates as fantastical as himself, used to meet, with
all the gravity of political importance, to settle an equal
government by rotation; and Milton, kicking when he could strike no
longer, was foolish enough to publish, a few weeks before the
Restoration, Notes upon a Sermon preached by one Griffiths,
entitled, "The Fear of God and the King." To these notes an answer
was written by L'Estrange, in a pamphlet petulantly called "No Blind
Guides."
But whatever Milton could write, or men of greater activity could
do, the king was now about to be restored with the irresistible
approbation of the people, he was therefore no longer secretary, and
was consequently obliged to quit the house which he held by his
office; the importance of his writings, thought it convenient to
seek some shelter, and hid himself for a time in Bartholomew Close,
by West Smithfield.
I cannot but remark a kind of respect, perhaps unconsciously paid to
this great man by his biographers: every house in which he resided
is historically mentioned, as if it were an injury to neglect naming
any place that he honoured by his presence.
The king, with lenity of which the world has had perhaps no other
example, declined to be the judge or avenger of his own or his
father's wrongs; and promised to admit into the Act of Oblivion all
except those whom the Parliament should except; and the Parliament
doomed none to capital punishment but the wretches who had
immediately co-operated in the murder of the king. Milton was
certainly not one of them; he had only justified what they had done.
This justification was indeed sufficiently offensive; and (June 16)
an order was issued to seize Milton's "Defence," and Goodwin's
"Obstructors of Justice," another book of the same tendency, and
burn them by the common hangman. The attorney-general was ordered
to prosecute the authors; but Milton was not seized, nor perhaps
very diligently pursued.
Not long after (August 19) the flutter of innumerable bosoms was
stilled by an Act, which the king, that his mercy might want no
recommendation of elegance, rather called an Act of Oblivion than of
Grace. Goodwin was named, with nineteen more, as incapacitated for
any public trust; but of Milton there was no exception.
Of this tenderness shown to Milton the curiosity of mankind has not
forborne to inquire the reason. Burnet thinks he was forgotten; but
this is another instance which may confirm Dalrymple's observation,
who says, "that whenever Burnet's narrations are examined, he
appears to be mistaken."
Forgotten he was not; for his prosecution was ordered; it must be
therefore by design that he was included in the general oblivion.
He is said to have had friends in the House, such as Marvel,
Morrice, and Sir Thomas Clarges: and undoubtedly a man like him
must have had influence. A very particular story of his escape is
told by Richardson in his Memoirs, which he received from Pope, as
delivered by Betterton, who might have heard it from Davenant. In
the war between the King and Parliament, Davenant was made prisoner
and condemned to die; but was spared at the request of Milton. When
the turn of success brought Milton into the like danger, Davenant
repaid the benefit by appearing in his favour. Here is a
reciprocation of generosity and gratitude so pleasing, that the tale
makes its own way to credit. But if help were wanted, I know not
where to find it. The danger of Davenant is certain from his own
relation; but of his escape there is no account. Betterton's
narration can be traced no higher; it is not known that he hid it
from Davenant. We are told that the benefit exchanged was life for
life; but it seems not certain that Milton's life ever was in
danger. Goodwin, who had committed the same kind of crime, escaped
with incapacitation; and, as exclusion from public trust is a
punishment which the power of Government can commonly inflict
without the help of a particular law, it required no great interest
to exempt Milton from a censure little more than verbal. Something
may be reasonably ascribed to veneration and compassion; to
veneration of his abilities, and compassion for his distresses,
which made it fit to forgive his malice for his learning. He was
now poor and blind; and who would pursue with violence an
illustrious enemy, depressed by fortune and disarmed by nature?
The publication of the "Act of Oblivion" put him in the same
condition with his fellow-subjects. He was, however, upon some
pretence now not known, in the custody of the serjeant in December;
and when he was released, upon his refusal of the fees demanded, he
and the serjeant were called before the House. He was now safe
within the shade of oblivion, and knew himself to be as much out of
the power of a griping officer as any other man. How the question
was determined is not known. Milton would hardly have contended but
that he knew himself to have right on his side.
He then removed to Jewin Street, near Aldersgate Street, and, being
blind and by no means wealthy, wanted a domestic companion and
attendant; and therefore, by the recommendation of Dr. Paget,
married Elizabeth Minshul, of a gentleman's family in Cheshire,
probably without a fortune. All his wives were virgins; for he has
declared that he thought it gross and indelicate to be a second
husband: upon what other principles his choice was made cannot now
be known; but marriage afforded not much of his happiness. The
first wife left him in disgust, and was brought back only by terror;
the second, indeed, seems to have been more a favourite, but her
life was short. The third, as Philips relates, oppressed his
children in his lifetime, and cheated them at his death.
Soon after his marriage, according to an obscure story, he was
offered the continuance of his employment, and, being pressed by his
wife to accept it, answered, "You, like other women, want to ride in
your coach; my wish is to live and die an honest man." If he
considered the Latin secretary as exercising any of the powers of
government, he that had shared authority, either with the Parliament
or Cromwell, might have forborne to talk very loudly of his honesty;
and if he thought the office purely ministerial, he certainly might
have honestly retained it under the King. But this tale has too
little evidence to deserve a disquisition; large offers and sturdy
rejections are among the most common topics of falsehood.
He had so much either of prudence or gratitude, that he forbore to
disturb the new settlement with any of his political or
ecclesiastical opinions, and from this time devoted himself to
poetry and literature. Of his zeal for learning in all its parts,
he gave a proof by publishing, the next year (1661), "Accidence
commenced Grammar;" a little book which has nothing remarkable, but
that its author, who had been lately defending the supreme powers of
his country, and was then writing "Paradise Lost," could descend
from his elevation to rescue children from the perplexity of
grammatical confusion, and the trouble of lessons unnecessarily
repeated.
About this time, Elwood the Quaker, being recommended to him as one
who would read Latin to him for the advantage of his conversation,
attended him every afternoon except on Sundays. Milton, who, in his
letter to Hartlib, had declared, that "to read Latin with an English
mouth is as ill a hearing as Law French," required that Elwood
should learn and practise the Italian pronunciation, which, he said,
was necessary, if he would talk with foreigners. This seems to have
been a task troublesome without use. There is little reason for
preferring the Italian pronunciation to our own, except that it is
more general; and to teach it to an Englishman is only to make him a
foreigner at home. He who travels, if he speaks Latin, may so soon
learn the sounds which every native gives it, that he need make no
provision before his journey; and if strangers visit us, it is their
business to practise such conformity to our modes as they expect
from us in their own countries. Elwood complied with the
directions, and improved himself by his attendance; for he relates,
that Milton, having a curious ear, knew by his voice when he read
what he did not understand, and would stop him, and "open the most
difficult passages."
In a short time he took a house in the Artillery Walk, leading to
Bunhill Fields; the mention of which concludes the register of
Milton's removals and habitations. He lived longer in this place
than any other.
He was now busied by "Paradise Lost." Whence he drew the original
design has been variously conjectured by men who cannot bear to
think themselves ignorant of that which, at last, neither diligence
nor sagacity can discover. Some find the hint in an Italian
tragedy. Voltaire tells a wild and unauthorised story of a farce
seen by Milton in Italy which opened thus: "Let the Rainbow be the
Fiddlestick of the Fiddle of Heaven." It has been already shown,
that the first conception was a tragedy or mystery, not of a
narrative, but a dramatic work which he is supposed to have began to
reduce to its present form about the time (1655) when he finished
his dispute with the defenders of the king.
He long had promised to adorn his native country by some great
performance, while he had yet perhaps no settled design, and was
stimulated only by such expectations as naturally arose from the
survey of his attainments, and the consciousness of his powers.
What he should undertake it was difficult to determine. He was
"long choosing, and began late."
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