Glass y /L C.J.V ,s / Rnnk ^ crizK cm L) ri-m^z^cL- . 'Z/iy^/ccy^^ Daniel ^ppletorl & C°".2O0, Broadway JHnttd. bvlllrr-Mn. S:JVIt. JOHN MILTON LIFE AND TIMES, RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL OPINIONS: AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING ANIMADVERSIONS UPON DR. JOHNSON's LIFE OF MILTON, ETC., ETC. BY JOSEPH IVIMEY, AUTHOR OF THE " HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH BAPTISTS," &C. &C. " My ventralion for our great countryman is equal to what I feel for the Grecian."— Cwjjer. " In point of sublimity, Homer cannot be compa-ed with Mi\ion."—Bobert Hall. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON & CO., 200, BROADWAY. AND FOR SALE BY BOOKSELLERS GENERALLY THROUGHOUT THE UNITED STATES. M DCCC XXXIII. SLEIGHT & VAN NOKDEN, PRINT. PREFACE' The former biographers of MiXTON have exhibited him principally in his character as a poetj but have obscured his features as a patriot, a protestant, and non-conformist. The writer has attempted to give an accurate and full- length portrait, in all those respects, of this most em- inent of our countrymen. For the purpose of accom- plishing this design, he has made considerable extracts from the prose writings of Milton, by which, in a good degree, he appears as his own biographer. In reference to the character of those works, he takes the liberty of quoting the sentiments of the present Bishop of Chester, who says : — " There is much reason for regretting, that the prose works of Milton, where, in the midst of much that is coarse and intemperate, passages of such redeeming beauty occur, should be in the hands of so few readers, IV TREFACE. considering the advantages which might be derived to our literature from the study of their original and nervous eloquence."* The prejudice which has existed against Milton's prose works, on account of his republican and dissent- ing principles, fully accounts for their having been so little known ; but it is hoped that such feelings are rapidly subsiding, if they are not as yet become quite ex- tinct. On this subject, the highly respectable writer just quoted, says in the same preface : " But in happier times, when it is less difficult to make allowance for the efferv^escence caused by the heat of conflicting politics, and when the judgment is no longer influenced by the animosities of party, the taste of the age may be safely and profitably recalled to those trea- tises of Milton, which were not written to serve a tem- porary purpose." Correct as were these remarks eight years since, the writer considers them to be much more applicable to the present time, when the principles of civil and religious liberty which Milton so powerfully advocated, have been approved by a majority of our legislature, obtained the sanction of so large t portion of our united empire, and produced such an astonishing reform in our representa- tive body. * Preface to Treatise of Christian Doctrine, PREFACE. The unceremonious manner in which Milton has treated the episcopal bench will probably be disliked by some readers, as unnecessarily severe, and extremely un- courteous. Let such persons, however, recollect the unconstitutional and persecuting practices of Laud and some of his brethren in the Star.chamber, and their ser- vile compliances in supporting arbitrary power in Charles I., and they may perhaps be inclined to moderate their censures, if not to change their opinion. As to the determined efforts of Milton to prevail with the Parliament to abolish tithes, and to leave the estab- lished clergy to depend for support upon the voluntary contributions of their respective parishoners, his reason- ing has a better prospect of being regarded at the pre- sent than at any former period since his treatises were published. It may probably too give weight to his re- commendations, that Ms remarks applied to Presbyterian, and not to Episcopal " hirelings." His objection was to the system of tithes, because he considered it directly op- posed to the genius of Christianity, and as being injurious to the spiritual interests of the nation. An earnest desire that the religious and political senti- ments of Milton should be justly appreciated, led the writer to undertake this work ; and also that his Chris- tian integrity, manifested under all the changes through which he passed from 1640 to 1674, on account of the extraordinary revolutions of that period, should be held VI PREFACE. up as an example worthy of univers^ imitation. It will however be found, that the veneration which he enter- tains for the character of Milton, has not led him to overlook his faults, nor to palliate his errors. Another reason which prevailed with the writer was, that the Lives of Milton have usually been so large and expensive, that they have been placed out of the reach of the generality of readers ; he therefore hopes that a small volume, comprising every thing of import- ance respecting this noble-minded and gigantic man, will not be unacceptable nor unprofitable to the bulk of his countrymen. The writer cannot anticipate that the sentiments stated in his work will be universally acceptable ; but if they be approved by that large body of Britons who contend for liberty as their birth-right, and especially by Protes- tant Dissenters, it is as much as he can expect. It is a little singular, that no writer of the latter class has ever published the life of this early and powerful defender of their principles, notwithstanding it is to his powerful ad- vocacy that they are indebted, more than to any other writer, for all the civil and religious privileges which they now enjoy. From his Memoirs having been written by Churchmen, who must have necessarily disapproved of his opinions, it is not wonderful that he should have been charged with employing " coarse and intemperate," <' rude and insulting language." Let the reader how- PREFACE. Vll ever recollect the period at which his treatises were written, when polemics where not remarkably nice in their selection of epithets ; and let him consider too the extreme importance of the subjects of which they treat — ■ the welfare of the church of Christ, and the deliverance of the nation from civil and religious tyranny — and he may probably be inclined to judge more favourably of the strong and caustic terms which he has sometimes employed for the purpose of satirizing and exposing gross impositions and oppressive corruptions. His blunt and biting style exposed him to great opposition and reproach ; but he evidently indulged self-gratulation, from the reflection that he had always accustomed him- self to what he called "this just ond honest manner of speaking." The following beautiful description of Truth is a specimen : — In his ^'Areopagitica," published 1644, he says : "Truth, indeed, came once into the world with her Divine Master, and was a perfect shape, most glorious to look upon ; but when he ascended, and his apostles after him were laid asleep then strait arose a wicked race of Deceivers, who,as that story goes of that wicked Typhon with his conspirators, how thej dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends of Truth, such as durst appear imitating the careful search which Isis made for the man- gled body of Osiris, went up and down, gathering up every viu \j^. PREFACE. limb still as tbev could find them. We have not vet found them all, Lords and Commons, nor ever shall do till her Master's second coming. He shall bring together every joint and member, and shall mould them into an immortE^l feature of loveliness and perfection-" In the " Animadversions upon Johnson's Life of Mil- ton" in the Appendix, there will be found a degree of se- verity merited, the writer thinks, by an author who suf- fered his ultra-toryism and bigotry so to blind his under- standing as to use his pen for distorting the features of a character which he was incapable of delineating. The writer would not have considered these remarks to have been required so long after the death of the calumniator, had not the obnoxious work formed part of that standard pubUcation, " The Lives of the British Poets." The amiable poet, Cowper, has justly designated Johnson's Life of Milton as ^^ unmerciful treatment."* Again, " In the last leaf of Murphy's Essay," says Hayley, " on the Life and Genius of Johnson, he wrote the following most deliberate censure : ' Let all that is said against Milton in the conclusion of this book pass undisputed, and Johnson's is a most malignant life of Milton.' "f The writer has also taken the liberty to copy into the * Sketch of the Life of Cowper, prefixed to his posthumous poems, p xxxiii. t Latin and Itahan Poems of Milton, translated by Cowper, Preface and Notes by W. Hayley, Esq. PREFACE. IX Appendix, from the Rev. Mr. Todd's ." Account of Mil- ton," &;c. published in 1828, the Extracts from the Coun- cil Book while Milton was Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and which will throw considerable light upon several events connected with his history. Imploring the blessing of the Great Head of the Church to rest upon this humble effort to subserve His glory, by causing it to promote the cause of truth and righteousness, the writer, with much respect, dedicates it to the rising generation in Britain ; earnestly praying they may prove themselves a superior race to their most distinguished progenitors, whether of genuine patriots, unsophisticated Protestants, or real Christians, and thus contribute towards promoting the prosperity of their country in its highest and most essential interests — a country respecting which in many respects, it might be said, as it is of ancient Israel, "The Lord hath not dealt so with any PEOPLE." J. I. 1, Devonshire Street, Queen Square, Dec. 2lst, 1832. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. 1608—1640 Milton's parents.— Bom in London.— His^tutors.— Incredible ad- vances in learning.— Sent to Cambridge.— Early productions.— Ob- tains a degree.— Leaves the University.— Returns to his father's house.— PubUshes a Latin Elegy. — ^His Comus and Lycidas publish- ed.— Loses his mother.— Resolves to make the tour of Europe.— Intro- duced to persons of distinction.— Visits Rome and Naples.— His Protestant zeal.— Returns to Rome.— Danger from English Jesuits.— Visits Galileo in the Inquisition at Florence.— Arrives at Venice and Geneva. — Returns to England on account of the Civil War.— State of the Church under Laud, and persecution of the Puritans. Page 17—26. CHAPTER II. 1640—1644. Milton's arrival in London.— Commences schoolmaster. — Re- proached on that account. — Vindicated by Toland. — Inconsolable because of the death of Diodati.— ^Writes against the Bishops. — Two Books on the Reformation from Popery .--Prayer to the Trinity in Uni- ity. — Declaration of his motives in writing. — Conduct of the Bishops. — Admiration of the Reformation. — Appeal to the united EngHsh and Scotch nations, — Origin of Antichrist. — Publishes on Prelatical Epis- Xll CONTENTS. copacy against Usher. — Reason of Church Government urged against Prelacy. — Animadversions on a work of Bishop Hall. — Sen- timents respecting Liturgies. — Church corrupted by Constantine. — His opinion of the Fathers — and of Tithes, — A tale of the Head and Wen. — Replies to a Libel. — His contempt for the Bishops. — Re- marks. •> Page 27—50. CHAPTER III. 1644—1648. Smollett's* Account of the origin or the Civil War. — A different Account by Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson. — State of the Prelates. — Origin of Congregational Churches in London. — Notes. — Dispute between the House of Lords and commons respecting the Prelates. — Bish- ops excluded from their seats in Parliament. — Milton publishes his Areopagitica. — Charged with printing scandalous books. — ^Persecu- ting spirit of Presbyterian Assembly. — Eloquent description of the Liberty of the Press. — He is married. — Left by his wife. — Publishes four Tracts on Divorce. — They are reconciled. — Remarks on his con- duct and principles. — Bishop Hall's opinion. — Note. — Milton belong- ed to the Baptist Denomination. — Sonnet. — Death of his father. — Re- \wes his Academy. — Sonnet. — Appointed Latin Secretary. — Satiri- cal Poem addres sed to the Presbyterians. Page 51 — 98. CHAPTER IV. 1648—1653. Presbyterians oppose the execution of the King. — Testimony of Neale. — Mistake corrected, (note) — Milton pubUshes Tenure of Kings and Magistrates after the death of Charles I.— His description of the Presbyterian magistrates, and ministers. — Enemies to liberty of Conscience. — House of Lords voted to be useless. — Office of King voted to be dangerous to liberty. — Council of State. — Milton com- mences the history of England. — Appointed Latin Secretary to the Council. — Publishes his Eiclonocastes. — Eikon Basilike an im- * The writer, by mistake, has in "this Cliapter used the name of Hume instead o( Smollett. CONTENTS. Xm posture. — Milton publishes a reply to the Irish Presbyterians. — Writes a reply to Salmasius. — Publishes his Second Defence. — Re- ply to Peter Du Moulin, who had reproached him on account of his blindness. — Sonnet on his blindness. — Letter on the same subject to Leonard Philarus. — Lines addressed to Cyriac Skinner. — He defends himself against Morus. — Appointed Latin Secretary to the Protector. Page 98— 13i. CHAPTER V. 1653—1660. Oliver Cromwell appointed Lord Pi'otector. — Milton's reason for approving Cromwell's conduct. — Sonnet on his character. — Protec- tor's principles as to liberty of conscience, Note. — Milton's eulogy on his character. — Loss of his two wives. — Sonnet. — Publishes his Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes, and Considerations to remove Hirelings, &c. — Death of Oliver Cromwell. — Publishes on the Ruptures of the Commonwealth ; and the ready and safe way to establish a free Commonwealth. — Letter to General Monk. — Brief Notes upon a Sermon entitled, ' The fear of God and the King.' Page 132—166. CHAPTER VI. 1655—1658. The Duke of Savoy persecutes the Waldenses. — Cromwell's noble conduct. — Milton's Sonnet. — Cromwell's intention to found a Protes- tant Council.— Milton's State Letters: — The Protector to the Prince of Tarentum, to the Duke of Savoy, to the Prince of Transilvania, to the king of the Swedes, to the States of the United Provinces, to the Evangelick States of Switzerland, to the King of France, to Cardinal Mazarine, to the King of Denmark, to the Senators of the City of Geneva, to the Cities of Switzerland, to the King of the Swedes, to the States of the United Provinces, to the King of the Swedes, to the King of Denmark, &c., to the Landgrave of Hesse, to the King of the Swedes, to the heir of Norway, to the Marquis of Branden- 2 XIV CONTENTS. burgh, to the King of France, to the Cities of the Switzers, to Car- dinal Mazarin — Richard, Protector, to the King of the Swedes. — The Parliament to the King of the Swedes, to the King of Denmark. Page 167—117, CHAPTER VII. 1660—1674. Restoration of Charles II. — Milton secretes himself. — ^Sonnet. — Anecdote. — Two of his works burnt. — Secured by act of Oblivion. — Exemplifies the Character of Abdiel. — Marries his third wife. — Re- moves to Chalfont. — Thomas Elhvood and Paradise Lost. — Extracts from that inimitable Poem. — Anecdote of Milton. — Anecdote of the Duke of York. — Paradise Regained. — Samson Agonistes. — Letter to Peter Heimbach. — His Treatise on True Religion. — Andrew Marvell. — Respect shown to Milton. — His death and funeral. — His person and character. — His will.— His widow and daughters. — Original Letter of Mr. George Vertue. — Monuments. — Treatise of Christian Doctrine. — Extracts. — Remarks. — List of works. Page 21S, APPENDIX. Animadversions on Dr. Johnson's Life of Milton.— Proclamation against Milton. — Extracts from Council Book respecting Milton. Page 267—300. LIFE OF MILTON. CHAPTER L 1608—1740. This most extraordinary man, this prince of English poets, this consistent champion of civil and religious liberty, was the son of John Milton and Sarah Caston ; they had two other children, Anna, who married Edward Philips ; and Christopher, bred to the common law. Mr. John Milton was born in Bread-street, in the city af London, December 9, 1608,* descended of an ancient family of that name at Milton, near Abingdon, in Oxford, shire, Where it had been a long time settled as appears from the monument still to be seen in the church of Mil- ton ; till one of the family having taken the unfortunate side in the contest between the houses of York and Lan- caster, was sequestered of all his estate, except what he held by his wife. The poet's grandfather, whose name also was John Milton, was under ranger, or keeper, of the forest of Shotover, near Horton, in Oxfordshire, he being a zealous papist. His father was a polite man, a gi-eat master of music, and, by profession, a scrivener, in which calling, through his diligence and honesty, he got a competent estate in a short time ; for he was disinherited ♦ "The 20th day of December, 1608, was baptisedJohn.the son of John Mylton, Bcrivener."— Extract from the Registry of All-hallows, Bread- street, 3 18 LIFE OF MILTON. by his bigoted parents for embracing the Protestant reli- gion, and abjuring the popish idolatry. He lived at the sign of the Spread Eagle, (the armorial bearings of the family,) in Bread-street. Of his mother, it is said, "she was a woman of incomparable virtue and goodness." John Milton was destined to be a scholar : and partly under domestic tutors, (whereof one was Thomas Young,* to whom the first of his familiar letters is inscribed; and afterwards, Dr. Gill, the chief master of Paul's School, to whom, likewise, the fifth of the same letters is inscribed,) he made an incredible progress in the knowledge of words and thingSjhis diligence and inclination outstripping the care of his instructors ; and after he was twelve years of age, such was his insatiable thirst for learning, that he seldom went to bed before midnight. Being thus initiated into several tongues, and having not slightly tasted the inex- pressible sweets of philosophy, he was sent, at the age of fifteen, to Christ's College, in Cambridge to pursue more arduous and solid studies. In the same year he gave several proofs of his early genius for poetry. His first essay was to translate some psalms into English verse, whereof the 114th thus com- mences : " When the bless'd seed of Terah's faithful son, After long- toil their liberty had won ; And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land, Led by the strencjth of the Almighty's hand ; Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, His praise and glory was in Israel known." In his seventeenth year, he wrote a handsome copy of verses on a child of his sister, who had died of a consump- tion. In this year also he composed a Latin Elegy on the * He was afterwards chaplain to the English merchants at Hamburgh. His pupil dedicated a poem to him. Aubrey calls him "a Puritan in Es- sex, who cutt his hair short." LIFE OF MILTO5I. 19 death of the Bishop of Winchester, and another on that of the Bishop of Ely ; and about the same time he com- posed his fine poem on the Gunpowder Treason Plot. Of these juvenile productions Marohof* says: " That Mil- ton's writings show him to have been a man from his childhood ; and that these poems are exceedingly above the ordinary capacity of that age." He spent seven years at Cambridge, " where he lived with great reputation, and was generally beloved. But having obtained the degree of Master of Arts, in 1632, and performed his exercises with much applause, he left the university ; for he aimed not at any of those learned professions that require a longer stay in that place." Some of his academic performances are still extant among his occasional poems, and at the end of his familiar let- ters. He.was now twenty-four years of age. From this Y time till 1537 he lived at his father's house, at Horton, near Colebrook, in Buckinghamshire : here he had full oppDrtunity to peruse all the Greek and Latin writers. He was not, however, so much in love with solitude but that he frequently visited London for the purpose of pur- chasing books, and to meet his old friends from the uni- versity ; or to learn something new in the mathematics, or in music, in which he extraordinarily delighted. It was during this period that he wrote, while in London, the Latin Elegy to his intimate friend Chahles Diodati, wherein were some verses which expressed his preference of the pleasures of London to the drudgery of the univer- sity. " It was on this account," says Toland, " that some persons, no less ignorant than malicious, afterwards took a handle to assert, that he was either expell-ed for some misdemeanour from Cambridge, or that he left it in dis- content, because he obtained no preferment ; or that he ♦ In his Polyhistar JUUeraturius. 20 LIFE OF MILON. spent his time in London with lewd women, or at the play-houses ; but," he adds, " the falsity of this story, we shall in due place demonstrate." His first work of consequence was written and enacted in 1634. This was his " Comus," entitled " A Maske, presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634, on Michaelmass night, before the Right Honourable John, Earl of Bridgewater, Viscount Brackly, Lord President of Wells, and one of his Majesty's most honourable Privy Counsell."* In the year 1637 he wrote the inimitable poem called " Lyci- das," of which the manuscript is still preserved inthe Egyptian Library, Trinity College, Cambridge. The death of his mother happened about this time, so that he felt himself at liberty to carry into effect his fa- vourite object ; and having obtained his father's consent, he resolved to make the tour of Europe. His reason for wishing to travel in foreign countries, is quaintly ex- pressed by Toland, to have been a persuasion, " that he could not better discern the pre-eminence or defect3 of his own country, than by observing the customs and institutions of others; and that the study of never so many books, without the advantages of conversation, serves either to render a man a stupid fool, or an insuf- ferable pedant." In 1638, he went to France, accompanied by a servant, but by no tutor : " For," says his biographer, " such as still need a pedagogue are not fit to go abroad : and those who are able to make a right use of their travels, ought to be the free masters of their own actions, their good qualifications being sufficient to introduce them into all places, and to present them to the most deserving per- sons." *"Londu7i: printed fur Humphrey Robinson, at the sign of the Three Pi^eoiis, in Paul's Church Yard.— 1637." LIFE OF MILTON. 21 It affords full proof of the high respectability of the character of Miltox, that he was favoured with an ele- gant letter of direction and advice from the famous Sir Henry Wotton, who was a long time ambassador from James the First to the Republic of Venice. When he arrived at Paris, he was most kindly received by the Eng- lish ambassador, Lord Scudamore, who recommended him to the famous Groxius, who was then ambassador to the French Court, from Christina, Queen of Sweden. From France he proceeded to Italy, where, after having passed through many noted places, he came at length to Florence : " A city, for the politeness of the language, and the civility of the inhabitants, he always after infi- nitely admired." In this city he staid about two months, and was daily assisting at those learned conferences which they held in their private academies, according to the laudable custom of Italy, both for the improvement of letters, and the maintaining of friendship. " During this time he contracted an intimate acquaintance with several ingenious men : " most of whom," says Toland, " have since made a noise in the world, and deserve a mention in this place ; I mean Gaddi, Dati, Frescobaldi, Fran- cini, Bonmattei, Coltellino, Chimentelli, and seve- ral others. With these he kept up a constant corres- pondence, particularly with Carolo Dati, a nobleman of Florence, to whom he wrote the tenth of his familiar letters." From Florence he went next to Rome, where he resided two months, and witnessed the miserable remains of that once famous city, the mistress of the world. "And," says Toland, " deservedly so ; being then not only the fairest place under heaven, but, until the ambition of a few persons had corrupted her equal government, she extended liberty and learning as far as the glory of her 3* 22 LIFE OF MILTON. name and the terror of her arms. Here, no doubt," re- marks his biographer, " all the examples which he had read of the virtue, eloquence, wisdom, and valour of her ancient citizens, occurred to his mind ; and must have oppressed his generous soul with grief, when he saw Rome, the chief seat of the most exquisite tyranny, exer- cised by effeminate priests, not governing the world by the opinion formed of their justice, or power, being afraid of their courage, (for to these qualities they are known and sworn enemies), but deluding men with unaccounta- ble fables, and terrifying them by imaginary fears; filling -their heads with superstition, and filling their own pockets with the money of their credulous votaries." At Rome, Milton made the acquaintance of several eminently learned men, as the celebrated Lucas Hol- STENius, the hbrarian of the Vatican, who showed him great politeness, and permitted him to read all the Greek authors under his care. This gentleman presented him to Cardinal Barberini, who, at an entertainment of mu- sic performed at the Cardinal's expense, sought him out in the crowd, and gave him a kind invitation to visit him. He likewise commenced a friendship with the poet, Gio- vanni Salsilli. Having departed from Rome, he went to Naples, and was introduced by his fellow-traveller, a hermit, to Gio- VANNi Battista Manso, Marquis o-f Villa, a person most nobly descended, who accompanied Milton round the city, showing him all the remarkable places in it, and visited him often at his lodging. He also composed a Latin distich, which he addressed to Milton r " Ut 7ncns forma, decor, fades, mos ; si pietas sic, Noil Anghis, vcrum, lierclc, Angelus ipse fores." " Did yovir piety equal your talents, form, countenance, grace, and manners,— you were not so much an Englishman, by Hercules, as an angel. LIFE OF MILTON. 23 The exception, in regard to his piety, relates to Milton being a Protestant, and to the courage with which he had avowed, and doubtless defended, his principles. The marquis, indeed, told him, " he would have done him many other good offices, had he been more reserved in matters of religion" From this very brief mention of the frankness and courage of our Protestant poet, we may safely infer that his mind was at this time well informed as to the all-important principles of Protestantism, and that he felt a detestation of the idolatroui^principles and superstitious practices of the Antichristian Church of Rome. It is fair to infer also, that his courageous con- duct, even in the city upon seven hills, where Antichrist was seated in all4his glory, and where his flattering, cringing sycophants were shouting, " who is like unto the Beast ?" arose from his heart having been renewed by the Holy Spirit of God ; for one can scarcely conceive it possible that any other principle than that of the fear of God having been put into his heart, could have pro- duced such fearless confidence and such dauntless zeal/ In return for the many favours which Milton had re- ceived from a person of Manso's rank, he presented him, at his departure from Naples, notwithstanding the cautious scruples by which this kindness was qualified, with an in- comparable Latin eclogue, entitled Mansus ; which is extant among his occasional pieces. He had intended, and was making preparations to pass over into Sicily and Greece, when he wa s rec alled by the sad news of a civil war beginning at home ; and " deem- ing it a thing," says his nephew Philips, " unworthy of him to be diverting himself in security abroad, when his countrymen were contending with an insidious monarch for their liberty, he resolved to give up his further travels, 24 LIFE OF MILTOPT. and, with his noble compatriots, to jeopard his life on the high places of the field." Before returning to England, however, he made up his mind again to visit Rome, though he was advised by some merchants to the contrary ; for they had learned from their correspondents, that the English Jesuits were framing plots against him, on account of the great freedom he used in his conversations on the subject of religion. He therefore resolved not to commence any disputes with the Papists, but w^s determined, whatever might happen, not to dissemble his sentiments. He went again to the city of Antichrist, and continued there two months, neither conceahng his name, nor declining to defend openly the truth, under the Pope's eye, when any thought fit to attack him ; and notwithstanding his danger, he returned safely to his friends at Florence. Toland remarks, in connexion with the above statement : " I forgot all this while to mention, that he paid a visit to Galileo, then an old man, and a prisoner in the Inquisition, for thinking contrary in astronomy, than pleased the Dominican and Franciscan friars." Having spent two months more in Florence, and visited Lucca, Bononia, and Ferrara^ he arrived in safety at Venice. Here he spent one month ; and shipping off all the books which he had collected in his travels, he came through Verona, Milan, crossed the Alps, and proceeded by the lake Leman to Geneva. In this city he contracted an intimate acquaintance with Giovanni Diodati, a noted professor of divinity, and became well known to several other eminent men ; particularly to the celebrated critic and antiquary, Ezekiel Spanhemius, to whom he wrote the seventeenth of his familiar letters. So leaving Ge- neva, and passing again through France, after one year and three months' travels, he returned safely to England, LIFE OF MILTON. 25 arriving at home about the time that king Charles the First made his second expedition against the Scotch. The reader will have observed the proofs of the high- minded Protestant, which have been briefly stated, in the conduct of this noble youth — for he was scarcely more, being now only thirty-two years of age; — and if the reader is well acquainted with the state of society at that time, as regarded the Established Church of England when XawcZ* was persecuting the Puritans with such re- lentless and unheard-of cruelties, for da'ring to refuse worshipping the golden image of episcopacy which the king had set up ; — if he is acquainted, too, with the nu- merous instances in which this Arminian prelate sympa- thised with Popery ; and how fast the Church of England was going back towards Rome, both in her ceremonies and the new exposition of her articles ; — if he know, also, how tyrannical were the decisions of the star-chamber and high-commission courts, in reference to any thing which approached to the assertion of either civil or reli- gious liberty, he will then form some conception of the danger into which Milton voluntarily ran, by returning at such a time to his beloved native country ; indicating ♦"Laud's superstition," says Mr. Wilson, Appendix 517, "however offensive to common sense, was tolerable, when named with his cruelties. These chill the blood with horror. No man, possessed of the common sympathies of human nature, can read the sufTerings of Prynne, Lilburn, Burton, Bastwick, and Leighton, without being satisfied that the monster's heart was steeled against every feeling of Immanity. These severities occasioned numbers to leave the kingdom, until the king ordered that none should depart without the permission of this miscreant." This witness is true ; and to this I add, what proved to be the most marvellous providence, that Laud prevented Oliver Cromwell, John Hampden, and other patriots, from going to America, to which they had made up their minds, and had actually embarked, in order to transport themselves, but an order of council prevented them. The excellent Dr. Owen, too, would have gone, but for the same prevention. 26 LIFE OF MILTON. a spirit similar to that displayed by the brave men who perished at Thermopylae and Marathon ; or, like the few noble citizens of Calais, who devoted themselves to perish, in order to save their fellows from destruction ! This was indeed to manifest the true Protestant, and the true pa- triot. Courage and philanthropy indeed ! which nothing short of " being valiant for the truth," even when fallen to the earth, and trampled beneath the feet of contemp- tuous men, could sustain : which the votaries of high church, with their half papistical dogmas, flitting in the sun of courtly prosperity, could no more have displayed, than they could have emulated his powerful intellect ; to have even attempted which, would only have manifested their folly, and exposed themselves in their spleen to the fate of Esop's " Proud Frogs." LIFE OP MILTON. 27 CHAPTER II. 1640—1644. Arriving in London, as soon as he had receiving the congratulations of his friends and acquaintances, he hired a handsome lodging in St. Bride's Court, Fleet Street, at the house of Mr. Russel, a tailor, which might be an asylum for himself and a safe depository for his library, in those uncertain and troublesome time. He soon after removed to Aldersgate-street, at the end of the passage, where he also commenced his work of tuition.* Whilst *Toland is very angry that some persons, " mean tutors in a university," m order to reproach Milton, had called him a schoolmaster. Not to inter- rupt the course of my narrative, I throw the vindication of Milton, by his biographer, into a note: — "But to return to his lodgings, where we had left him. I'here, both to be used in the reading of the best authors, and to discharge his duty to his sister's sons, that were partly committed to his tuition, he undertook the care of their education, and instructed them in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and other oriental dialects : likewise in several parts of the mathematics, in cosmography, history, and some modern lan- guages, as French and Italian. Some gentlemen of his intimate friends, and to whom he could deny nothing, prevailed on him to impart the same benefits of learning to their sons ; especially since the trouble [of teaching the Latin] was no more with many than with few. He that well knew the greatest persons in all ages to have been delighted with teaching others the principles of knowledge and virtue, easily complied ; nor was his suc- cess unanswerable to the opinion which is generally entertained of his ca- pacity. And not content to acquaint his disciples with those books that are commonly used in the schools, whereof several, no doubt, are excellent in their kind, though others are as trivial or impertinent, he made them, like- wise, read in Latin the ancient authors concerning husbandry : as Cato^ Varro, Columella, and Palladius ; also Cornelius Celsus the physician ; Pliny's Natural History ; the architecture of Vitruvius ; the stratagems of Frontinus ; and the philosophical poets, Lucretius and Manilius. To the usual Greek books, as Homer and Hesiod, he added Aratus, Dionysius Perigetes, Oppian, Quintus Calaber, Apollonius Rhodius, Plutarch, Xenophon, JElian's Tactics, and the stratagems of Polycenus. It was 28 LIFE OF MILTON. absent from England, his dearest friend and school-fellow, Charles Diodati, had been removed by death ; and for a long time he continued inconsolable on that account. This even is commemorated by him in an eclogue, in the most pathetic strains that affectionate sorrow could sug- gest. The state of the nation at this time he thus describes : " On my return from my travels, I found all mouths open against the Bishops ; some complaining of their vices, and others quarrelling with the very order : and thinking, from such beginnings, a way might be opened to true liberty, I hastily engaged in the dispute, as well to rescue my fellow.citizens from slavery, as to help the Puritan ministers, who were inferior to the Bishops in learning."* this greatest sign of a good man in him, and the highest obhgations he could lay upon his friends, without any sordid or mercenary "purposes^ that gave occasion to his adversaries with opprobiously terming him a schoolmaster^ &c. &c. It is humorous to find his high church, pamphlet- eering university opponents, fixing upon such a charge as a matter of re- proach ! One amuses oneself in thinking, how many there might have probably been of these "jolly, plump, well-fed city dogs," whose "master fed them well, and brought the food himself, only on condition of their being tied up a day, and that to make them tame ; and at nighty just to guard the house and keep it from thieves." Who among them, even if they had been qualified, would have undertaken, upon Milton's terms, to have been his assistant 1 If Milton was poor and unknown, he had no "crease in his neck." — See Esop's Fable, No. xix. ♦ In a volume, entitled "Clarendon and Whiilocke compared," published in 1727, the author having repelled (p. 81) the mean and unsupported assertion of Clarendon, who has said, " I am confident there was not, from the beginning of the Parliament, one orthodox or learned man recommended by them (the Assembly) to the Church of England," proceeds to mention some : four of them, who, after the Restoration, accepted of bishopricks — Dr. Seth Ward, Dr. John Gaudin, Dr. John WiJkins, and' Dr. Edward Reignolds; also, Drs. John Conant, Cave, Usher, Gataker, Tuekney, Lightfoot, Wincop, Gouge, Twisse, Manton, Bolton, Pool, Jacomb, and Bates. Of the latter of these the writer (the author of the Critical History LIFE OF MILTON. 29 One of his biographers. Birch, says : " His zeal for liberty in general therefore engaged him in a warm opposition to episcopal authority. He, in the first place, published two books on the Reformation from Popery, which were dedicated to a friend. In the first of these he proved, from the reign of Henry the Eighth, what had all along been the real impediments in the kingdom to a perfect Reformation. These he reduces to two heads ; the^rst, the pop ish ce remonies which had been retained in the Protestant church ; and the second, the power of ordina- tion to the ministry having been confined to diocesian Bishops, to the exclusion of the choice of ministers by the suffrages of the people. ' Our ceremonies,' he says, * are senseless in themselves, and serve for nothing else but either to facilitate our return to Popery, or to hide the defects of better knowledge, and to set off the pomp of prelacy.' As a specimen of his style and manner, I ex- tract a few paragraphs : — " Sir, — Amidst those deep and retired thoughts, which, with every man, Christianly instructed, ought to be most frequent, of God^ and of his miraculous ways and works amongst men, and of our religion arid worJcs, performed to him ; after the story of our Saviour Christ, suffering to of England) remarks : *' Dr. Bates, for learning, eloquence, beauty o. thought, style, and life, is without parallel, except we might compare wit him his fast friend, the Most Reverend Dr. Tillotson, Archbishop of Can- terbury. When such men as these are characterised, as by Lord Clarendon seditious and schismatical, what must we think of those that are, in the same page, perhaps, termed orthodox and pious I Besides the deficiency here as to truth^ how deficient is it in charity! How different from those truly orthodox Fathers and Pastors of our Church, who maintained a brotherly temper with scrupulous Protestants, after the Uniformity Act had made their relig-ion what the Earl makes it — schism and sedition! I was infinitely pleased," adds this writer, "with a certificate, signed as follows : (Calamy, vol. ii. p. 10.) John Tillotson, Benjamin Whitchcock, Kdward Stillingjieet^ Matthew Pool, Thomas Gouge," 4 LIFE OF MILTON. the lowest bent of weakness in the Jiesh, and presently triumphing to the highest pitch o^ glory in the spirit, which drew up his body also, till we, in both, be united to him, in the revelation of his kingdom : I do not know of any thing to take up the whole passion of pity on the one side, and joy on the other, than to consider, first, the foul and sudden corruption, and then, after many a tedious age, the long deferred but much more wonderful and happy reformation of the Church in these latter days." Speak- ing of the Popish corruptions, he thus satirizes them : "They hallowed it, [religion,] they fumed it, they sprinkled it, they bedeck't it, not in robes of pure inno- cency, but of pure linen, with other deformed and fan- tastic dresses, in palls and mitres, gold and guegaws, fetched from AarorCs old warehouse, or the Flamin^s Vestry ; there was the Priest sent to con his motions, and his postures, his Liturgies, and his Lurries, till the soul, by this means of embodying herself, given up justly to fleshly delights, bent her wing apace downward ; and finding the ease she had from her visible and sensuous colleague, the body, in the performance of religious du- ties, her pinions now broken and flagging, shifted off" from herself the labour of high-soaring any more, forgot her heavenly flight, and left the dull and droyling carcass to plod on in the old road, and drudging trade of outward conformity." He thus describes Wicklif 's preaching, " at which," he says, " all the succeeding reformers more effectually lighted their tapers ;" who " was to his countrymen a short blaze, soon dampt and stifl 'd by the Pope and pre- lates for six or seven kings' reigns." To prove that the Reformation owed nothing to the Prelates, he says : " And for the Bishops, they were so far from any such worthy attempts, as that they suffered LIFE OF MILTON. 31 themselves to be the common stiles to countenance, with their prostituted gravities, every politick fetch that was then on foot, as oft as the potent statists pleased to employ them. To bring down the Protector, [Somerset,] Lati- mer was employed to defame him with the people ; who else, 'twas thought, would take ill the innocent man's death, unless the reverend bishop could assure them there was no foul play." "As for the queen herself," (Elizabeth,) he says, " she was made believe, that, by putting down BishopSy her prerogative would be infringed ; and why the Prelates laboured, it should be so thought, ask not them, but ask their bellies. They had found a good tabernacle ; they sate under a spreading vine ; their lot was fallen in a fair inheritance." " To the votaries of antiquity ^^^ he says, " I think I shall have fully answered, if I shall be able to prove out of an- tiquity, first, that if they will conform our Bishops to the purer times, they must mow their feathers, and their pounces, and make but curb-tailed bishops of them ; and we know they hate to be dockt and dipt, as much as to be put down outright. Secondly, that those poorer times were corrupt, and their books corrupted ; save often, thirdly, that the best of those that then wrote, disclaim that any man should repose on them, and send all to the scriptures." " Then flourished the church," says he, " with Con- stantine's wealth ; and therefore were the effects thatToT- lowed : his son Constantius proved a flat Arian, and his nephew Julian an apostate ; and there his race ended. The church, that before, by insensible degrees, walked and impaired, now with large steps, went downhill, decay- ing ; at which time Antichrist began first to put forth his horn, and that saying was common, that former times had 32 LIFE OF MILTON. wooden chalices and golden priests, but they golden chalices and wooden priests. ^^ The second book on Reformation begins thus : — " Sir,— It is a work, good and prudent, to be able to guide one man ;. of larger extended virtue, to order well one house ; but to govern a nation piously and justly, which only is to say happily, is for a spirit of the greatest size and the divinest mettle. " Now for their second conclusion, — That no form of church government is agreeable to Monarchy, hut that of Bishops ; although it fall to pieces of itself, by that which hath bin said ; yet, to give them play, front and rear, it shall be my task to prove that Episcopacy, with that au- thority which it challenges in England, is not only not agreeable, but tending to the destruction of monarchy." As a proof of the pious spirit which he manifested in writing this work, take the following most scriptural prayer ; containing, as the reader will perceive, distinct addresses to each person in the ever blessed Trinity in Unity. "Thou therefore thatsitst in light and glory un- approachable. Parent of angels and men ! Next, Thee I implore. Omnipotent King, Redeemer of that lost rem- nant, whose nature thou didst assume ; ineffable and ever- lasting Love ! And Thou, the Third subsistence of Divine^ Infinitude, Illuminating Spirit, the joy and solace of created things. One tri-personal Godhead, — look upon this, thy poor, and almost spent and expiring church ; leave her not thus a prey to those importunate wolves, that wait and think long, till they devour thy tender flock ; these wild boars that have broken into thy vineyard, and left the prints of iheir polluted hoofs upon the souls of thy servants. O let them not bring about their damned de- signs, that stand now at the entrance of the bottomless pit, expecting the watchword, to let out those dreadful LIFE OF MILTON. 33 locusts and scorpions, to reinvolve us in that pitchy cloud of infernal darkness, where we shall never more see the Sun of thy truth again, never hope for the cheerful dawn, never more hear the bird of morning sing. Be moved with pity at the afflicted state of this our shaken monarchy, that now lies labouring under her throes, and struggling against the grudges of more dreadful calamities." It is gratifying to hear him thus state the purity of his motives in this admirable work. " And herewithal I in- voke the immortal Deity, reveler and judge of hearts, that wherever I have in this book, plainly and roundly (though worthily and truly) laid open the faults of Fathers, Martyrs, or Christian Emperors ; or have otherwise in- veighed against error and superstition, with vehement ex- pressions ; I have done it, neither out of malice, nor lust to speak evil, nor any vain glory, but of mere necessity, to vindicate the spotless truth from an ignominious bon- dage, whose native worth is now become of such low esteem, that she is like to find small credit with us for what she can say, unless she can bring a ticket from Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley ; or prove herself a re- tainer to Constantine, and wear his badge. More toler- able it were for the church of God, that all those names were utterly abolisht, like the Brazen Serpent, than that men's opinions should thus idolize them, and the heavenly truth be thus captivated." As for the Bishops, he says that he denied not but many of them had been good men, though not infallible, nor above all human frailties. He affirmed; however, that, though at the beginning they had renounced the Pope, yet they had hugged the Popedom, and shared the author- ity among themselves, '* by their six bloody Articles, per- secuting the Protestants no slacker than the Pope would have done»" He again states, that, in the reign of Eb- 4* 34 LIFE OF MILTON. WARD the Sixth, they lent themselves as the tools of the semi-popish king's ministers, to accomplish every politic fetch that was then on foot. If a toleration for mass were to be begged of the king for bis sister Mary, lest Charles the Fifth should be angry, who but the grave prelates Cranmer and Ridley, should be sent to extort it from the young king ? But out of the mouth of that godly and royal child, Christ himself returned such an awful repulse to those killing and time-serving prelates, that after much bold importunity, they went their way, not without sham© and tears. "And when tlie Lord Sudley, Admiral of England, and the Protector's brother, was- wrongfully to lose his life, no man could be found fitter than Latimer to divulge, in his sermon, the forged accusations laid to his charge, thereby to defame him with the people. Cran- mer, one of king Henry's executors, and the other Bish- ops did, to gratify the ambition of a traytor, consent to exclude from the succession, not only Mary, the Papist, but also Elizabeth, the Protestant, though before declar- ed by themselves the lawful issue of their late master." Speaking of the reign of Elizabeth,, he stilL imputes the obstructions of a further Reformation to the Bishops, and then proceeds to prove from antiquity, that, in the primitive church, elections to ecclesiastical offices be- longed to the people. " But," he added, " in those early: ages, after the Apostles' days, even if they favoured epis- copacy, it would not much concern the age in which we live ; because, since the best times were speediiy infec- ted, the best men of those times were fouLy tainted, and the best writings of those men dangerously adulterated ;" all which propositions he labours to prove at large, and in his own strong and powerful style. In contemplating the glorious event of the Reformation, he expresses himself with perfect rapture. " How the LIFE OF MILTON. 35 bright and glorious Reformation (by divine power,) shone through the black and settled night o^ignorance and Anti- christian tyranny ; methinks a sovereign and reviving joy must needs rush into the bosom of him that reads or hears, and the sweet odour imbueth his soul with the fragrancy of heaven. Then was the sacred Bible brought out of the dusty corners, where profane falsehood and neglect had thrown it ; the schools opened ; divine and human learning raked out of the embers of forgotten tongues ; princes and cities trooping apace to the new-erected banner of salvation ; the martyrs with the irresistible might of weak' ness, shaking the powers of darkness, and scoraing the fiery rage of the old red dragon." He thus continues his discourse of prelatical episcopa- cy, and displays iis politics, which he contended had always been opposed to liberty. He traces its history Trom its most remote origin, and proves, that as it existed in England particularly, it was so far from being, as they commonly allege, the only form of church discipline agreeable to monarchy, that the most mortal diseases and convulsions of the government had always proceeded from the craft or pride of the Bishops ! He then boldly encou- rages the English and the Scotch, united by " the solemn league and covenant," to pursue the contest for liberty in Church and State, which they had so nobly begun. " Go on both, hand in hand, O nations, never to be dis- united. Be the praise and heroic song of all posterity — Merit this ; but seek only virtue, not to extend your limits ; for what need you win a fading triumphant laurel out of the tears of wretched men, but to settle the pure worship of God in his church, and justice in the state ? Then shall the hardest difficulties smooth out themselves before you ; envy shall sink to hell ; craft and malice be con- founded, whether it be homebred mischief, or outlandish 36 LIFE OF MILTON. cunning ; yea, other nations will then covet to serve you ; for lordship and victory are but the passes of justice and virtue. Commit securely to true wisdom the vanquishing and unusing of craft and subtilty, which are but her two renegades. Join your invincible might to do worthy and godlike deeds, and then he that wishes to break your un- ion, a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all generations." Alas ! how bitterly must Milton have lamented the dis- union which soon after took place between these nations, and the oceans of noble blood which flowed of whole hecatombs, (chiefly Scotch,) from the victims offered to appease mutual pride and jealousy, craft and treachery ! With one other short extract I will conclude this article : — " The sour leven of human traditions," he says, " mixt in one putrified mass with the poisonous dross of hypo- crisy in the hearts of Prelates, that lie basking in the sun. ny warmth of wealth and promotion, is the serpent's egg, that will hatch an Antichrist wheresover, and ingender the same monster as big or little as the lump is which breeds him. If the splendour of gold and silver begin to lord it once again in the Church o^ England, we shall see Anti- christ shortly wallow here, though his chief kennel be at Rome. Believe me, Sir, right truly it may be said, that Antichrist is Mammon'' s son." In 1641, certain of the Presbyterian ministers published a treatise against Episcopacy ,^ the title Smectymnuus, con- sisting of the initial letters of their names.* A Bishop having condescended to answer it, Milton says : " I sup- pose myself to be not less able to write for truth, than others for their pro^i or unjust power *^^ He therefore un- dertook to answer the lordly prelate, and published his ♦This was a quarto worlc, and was written by Stephen Marshall, Ed- mund Calamy, Thomas Young, Matthew Newcomen, and VVilh'am Spur- stow. LIFE OF MILTON. 37 work of Prelatical Episcopacy. "In this work," says Toland, " he proves against the famous Usher, (for he would not readily engage a meaner adversary,) that Dio* cesan Episcopacy, or a superior order to the common ministry, cannot be deduced from the Apostolical times> by the force of such testimonies as are alleged to that purpose. Now, Usher's chief talents lying in much read- ing, and being a great editor, and admirer of old writings^ Milton shows the insufficiency, inconveniency, and im- piety of this method, to establish any part of Christianity ; and blames those persons, who cannot think any doubt resolved, or any doctrine confirmed, unless they run to that indigested heap and fry of authors, which they call antiquity." " Whatsoever either time," he says, " or the heedless hand of blind chance has drawn down to this present, in her huge drag-net, whether fish or sea- weed, shells or shrubs, unpicked, unchosen — these are the fathers." And so he chides the good bishop Usher, " for divulging useless treatises, stuffed with the specious names of Ignatius and Polycarpus, with fragments of old martyrologies and legends, to distract and stagger the multitude of credulous readers." His next performance on the same subject, and chiefly directed against Usher's " Origin of Episcopacy,''^ was entitled, "The reason of Church-government urged against Prelacy, in two books." " The eloquence is masculine," says Toland, " the method is natural, and the sentiments are free." Another eminent Bishop, Dr. Joseph Hall, of Norwich, having written against Smectymnuus, Milton published ^^ Animadversions^' on his book. In a very unceremoni- ous manner, he thus attacks his respectable opponent : " We know where the shoe wrings you ; you fret, and are galled at the quick ; and oh ! what a death to the prelates 38 LIFE OF MILTON. to be thus unvizarded ; to have your periwigs plucked off, that cover your baldness ; your inside nakedness thrown open to public view. The Romans had a time every year, when their slaves might speak their minds ; 'twere hard if the free-born people of England, with whom the voice of truth, for these many years, even against the proverb, hath not been heard but in corners, after all your monkish prohibitions, and expurgatorious indexes your gags, and sniffles, your proud Imprimaturs, not to be obtained but with the shallow services, but not shallow hand of some mercenary, narrow-souled, and illiterate chaplain ; when liberty of speaking, than which nothing is more sweet to man, was girded and straight-laced, almost to a broken-winded Tizzick ; if now, at a good time, — our time of Parliament, the very Jubilee and resurrection of the state, — if now the corrected, the ag- grieved, and long persecuted truth could not be suffered [to] speak ; and though she burst out with some efficacy of words, could not be excused, after such an injurious strangle of silence,, nor void the censure of libelling, 'twere hard, 'twere something pinching, in a kingdom of free spirits." The " Remonstrant" had said, " If in time you shall see wooden chalices and wooden priests, thank your- selves." Milton answers, " It had been happy for this land, if your priests had been but only wooden : all England knows they have been to this island not wood, but worm- wood, that have infected the third part of our waters, like the apostate starrre in the revelation, that many souls have died of their bitternesse ; and if you mean by wooden, illiterate or contemptible, there was no want of that sort among you, and their number increasing daily, as their laziness, their tavern-hunting, their neglect of all sound LIFE OF MILTON. 39 literature, and their liking of doltish and monastical school- men daily increast." To the reasons which are alleged by Episcopalians, for the liturgy being founded upon the acts of councils ; and in order to give his opinion of free, or extempore prayer, he thus expresses himself: — " Let the grave councils put their books upon their shelves again, and string them hard, lest their various and jangling opinions put their leaves into a flutter. I do not intend, this hot season, to lead you a course through the wide and dusty champain of the councils ; but I shall take counsel of that which counselled them — reason ! And though I know there is an obsolete reprehension now at your tongue's end, yet I shall be bold to say, that reason is the gift of God in one man as well as a thousand. By that which we have tasted already of their cisterns, we may find that reason was the only thing, and not any divine command, that moved them to enjoin the set forms of a liturgy. First, lest any thing in general might be missed in their public prayers, through ignorance or want of care, contrary to the faith ; — and next, lest the Arians and Pelagians, in particular, should infect the people by their hymns and forms of prayer. But, by the good leave of these ancient fathers, this was no solid prevention of spreading heresy, to debar the ministers of God of their noblest talent — prayer in their congregations ; unless they had forbid the use of all sermons and lectures too, but such as was ready made to their hands, like our homilies : or else, he that was heretically disposed, had as fair an opportunity of infecting in his discourse as in his prayer or hymn. As insufficiently, and to say truth, as imprudently did they provide, by their contrived liturgies, lest any thing should be prayed through ignorance or want of care in the min- isters ; for if they were careless and ignorant in their 46 LIFE OF MILTON, prayers, certainly they would be more careless in watch- ing over their flock ; and what prescription could reach to bound them in both these ? What if reason now illus- trated by the word of God, shall be able to produce a better preventive than these councils have left us against heresy, ignorance, or want of care in the ministry, to wit, that such wisdom and diligence be used in the education of those that would be ministers, and such a spirit and serious examination to be undergone before their admis- sion, as St» Paid to Timothy sets down at large ; and then they need not carry such an unworthy suspicion over the preachers of God's word, as to tutor their unsoundness with the a, b, c, of a liturgy, or to diet their ignorance and want of care with the limited draught of a matin and evening-song drink." He gives another hard hit at the contents of the liturgy : " To contend that it is fantastical, if not senseless, in some places, were a copious argument, especially in the responses. For such alternatives as are there used, must be by several persons ; but the minister and the people cannot so sever their interests as to sustain several per- sons, he being the only mouth of the whole body which he represents. And if the people pray, he being silent, or they ask one thing, and he another, it either changes the property, making the priest the people, and the people the priest by turns, or else makes two persons repre- sentative where there should be but one ; which, if there were nothing else, must be a strange quaintness in ordi- nary prayer. It has, indeed, been pretended to be more ancient than the mass, but so little proved, that whereas other corrupt liturgies have had such a seeming antiquity that their publishers have ventured to ascribe them either to St. Peter, St. James, St. Mark, or at least to Chrysostome or Basil, ours has never been able to find LIFE OF MILTON. 41 neither age or author allowable, on whom to father those things which therein is least offensive, except the two creeds." Considering that Censtantine corrupted religion, he says : — " Of his Arianism we heard ; and for the rest, a pretty scantling of his knowledge may be taken, by his deferring to be baptized so many years, a thing not unu- sual, and repugnant to the tenor of Scripture, Philip knowing nothing that should hinder the Eunuch to be baptized [immediately] after the profession of his belief J'^ He quotes Dante, in his 19th Canto of Inferna, to prove that even men professing the Roman faith, had charged Constantino with having marred every thing in the church : — " Ah ! Constantine, of how much ill the catise, Not thy conversion, but those rich domains, That the first wealthy Pope secured of thee." — p. 27. He published another work in this year, entitled "Reason of Church Government urged against Prelaty ;" which he commences by proving, that " the Church Government is prescribed in the Gospel, and that to say otherwise is unsound." He takes up the hackneyed argument of churchmen, who contend that church discipline is not platformed in the Bible, but is left to the discretion of men." To the first of these statements he answers : " If we could imagine that he [Christ] left it at random, without his providence and gracious ordering, who is he so arrogant, so presumptuous, that durst dispose and guide the living ark of the Holy Ghost, though he should find it wandering in the fields o^ Bethshemish, without the con- stant warrant of some high calling 1 But no profane in- solence can parallel that which our prelates dare avouch, to drive outrageously, and shelter the holy ark of the 5 42 LIFE OF MILTON. church, not borne upon their shoulders with pains and labour in the word, but drawn with rude oxen, their offi- cials and their own brute inventions. Let them make shews of reforming while they will, so long as the church is mounted upon the prelatical cart, and not as it ought, between the hands of the ministers, it will but shake and totter ; and he that sets to his hand, though with a good intent, to hinder the shogging of it, in this unlawful wag- gonry wherein he rides, let him beware it be not fatal to him as it was to Uzza." In reply to quotations from the Fathers, he speaks most contemptuously. He calls them, " those more ancient than trusty Fathers, whose custom and fond opinion, weak principles, and the neglect of sounder knowledge, have exalted so high, as to have gained them a blind reverence, whose books in bigness and number are endless and im- measurable ; I cannot think that either God or nature, either divine or human wisdom, did mean they should ever be a rule or reliance to us, in the decision of any weighty or positive doctrines ; for certainly every rule and instrument of necessary knowledge that God has given us, ought to be so in proportion as may be wielded and managed by the life of man, without penning him up from the duties of human society. But he that shall bind himself to make antiquity his rule, if he reads but part, (besides the difficulty of the choice,) his rule is deficient and utterly unsatisfying. For there may be other writers of another mind, which he has not seen ; and if he under- takes all, the length of man's life cannot extend to give him a full and requisite knowledge of what was done in antiquity. Go, therefore, and use all your art, apply your sledges, your levers, and your iron crows, to heave your mighty Polyphemus of antiquity, to the delusion of novices and unexperienced Christians." LIFE OF MILTON. 43 " But if any shall strive to set up his Ephod and Tera- phim of antiquity against the brightness and perfection of the gospel, let him fear lest he and his Baal be turned into Bosheth. And thus much may suffice to shew that the pretended Episcopacy cannot be deduced from the apostolical times." Nor was he friendly to the system of ministers being paid from tythes and other church revenues, which the Puritans, who now possessed the livings, could prove to be jure Divino with infinite ease ! not excelled in their conclusive arguments even by their predecessors, whether Episcopalians or Papists. " The present ecclesiastical revenues" he says, " were not at first the effects of just policy or wholesome laws, but of the superstitious devo- tion of princes and great men who knew no better; or of the base importunity of begging friars, haunting and ha- rassing the death-beds of men departing this life, in a blind and wretched condition of hope to merit heaven, for the building of churches, cloysters, and convents ; the black revenues of purgatory, the price of abused and murdered souls, the damned simony of Trentals, and the hire of indulgencies to commit mortal sin." Before concluding my extracts from this work, I intro- duce the following humourous satire of those who shouted, " No bishop ! No king !" in a letter to a friend. <' Sir, — Can mischief be nearer hand, than when bishops shall openly affirm that * No bishop f No king /* A trim paradox, and they may know where they have been begging for it. I will fetch you the twin brother to it out of the Jesuit's cell ; they, feeling the axe of God's reformation, hewing at the old and rotten trunk of Pa- pacy, and finding the Spaniard their surest friend and safest refuge, to soothe him up in his dream of a fifth 44 LIFE OF MILTON, monarchy, and withal to uphold the decrepit Papalty, have invented this super-politick aphorism, as one terms it, * One Pope and one king I' " The little ado which I find in undertaking these pleasant sophisms, puts me into the mind to tell you a tale before I proceed further, and Menenius Agrippa speed us. *' A TALE OF THE HEAD AND THE WEN. " Upon a time the body summoned all the members to meet in the guild for the common good, (as ^sop's Chronicles draw many stranger accidents;) the head by right takes the first seat, and next to it a huge and mon- strous werij little less. than the head itself, growing to it by a narrow excrescency. The members arranged began to ask one another what he was that took place next their chief: none could resolve, whereat the wen, though unwieldy, with much ado gets up, and bespeaks the as- sembly to this purpose ; — that as in place he was second to the headj so by due of merit ; that he was to it an ornament, and strength, and of special near relation ; and that if the head should fail, none were fitter than himself to slip into his place ; therefore he thought it for the honour of the body, that such dignities and rich endow- ments should be deemed him, as did adorn and set out the noblest members. To this was answered, that it should be consulted. There was a wise and learned philosopher sent for, that knew all the charters, laws, and tenures of the body ; on him it is imposed by all, as chief counsellor,, to examine and discuss the claim and petition of right put in by the wen ; who soon hearing the matter, and wondering at the boldness of such a swoln tumour ; 'Wilt thou, (quoth he,) that art but a bottle of vitious and hardened excrements, contend with the lawlul and free- LIFE OF MILTON. 45 born members, whose certain number is set by ancient and unimpeachable statute ? Head thou art none, though thou receive this huge substance from it. What offices bearest thou? What good canst thou show done by thee to the common v/eal 1 The wen, not easily dasht, replies, that his office was his glory ; for as oft as the soul would retire out of the head, from over the steaming vapours of the lower parts to divine contemplations, with him she found the purest and quickest retreat, as being most re- mote from soil and disturbance. *Lourdan,' quoth the philosopher, ' thy folly is as great as thy filth ; know that all the faculties of the soul are confined of old to their several vessels and ventricles, from which they cannot part without the dissolution of the whole body ; and that thou containest no good thing in thee, but a heap of hard and loathsome uncleanness, and art to the head a foul disfigurement and burden. When I have cut thee off and opened thee, as by the help of these implements I will do, ail men shall know." Some minister, said by Milton to be a son of Bishop Hall, in writing against his Animadversions on Bishop Usher's book, had called it " a scurrilous libel ;" and not content with this, had treated the author with the greatest contempt, using defaming language and personal reflec- tions. In his reply entitled, ^^ Modest confutation of a slanderous and scandalous Libel, by John 31ilton, gent." he proves himself to have been a match for his antagonist even in scurrility and calling hard names. Speaking of the university men, he says, " What with truanting and debauchery, what with false grounds, and the weakness of natural faculties in many of them (it being a maxim with some men to send the simplest of their sons thither,) perhaps there would be found among them as many un- solid and corrupted judgments, both in doctriae and life, 5* 46 LIFE OF MILTON. as in any other two corporations of the like bigness. This is undoubted, that if any capenter, smith, or weaver, were such a bungler in his trade, as the greater number of them are in their profession, he would starve for any custom : and should he exercise his manufacture as little as they do their talents, he would forget his art : or, should he mistake his tools as they do theirs, he would mar all the work he took in hand. How few among them that know how to write or speak in a pure stile, much less to distinguish the ideas and various kinds of stile. In Latin barbarous, and oft not without solecisms, declaim- ing in rugged and miscellaneous gear, blown together by the four winds ; and in their choice preferring the gay rankness of AruLEius, Arnobius, or any modern Fus- tianist, before the native Latinisms of Cicero. In the Greek tongue most of them unlettered, or unentered to any sound proficiency in those Aitic masters of wisdom or eloquence. In the Hebrew text, except it be some few of them, their letters are utterly uncircumcised. No less are they out of the way in philosophy, pestering their lieads with the sapless dotages of old Pan's and Sola. mancaJ'^ His antagonist had meanly insinuated that Milton's early rising was for sensual pursuits. In reply, he says : " My morning haunts are, where they should be, at home ; not sleeping or concocting the surfeits of an irregular feast, but up and stirring ; in winter often before the sound of any bell awakens men to labour or devotion ; in summer as oft as the bird that first rouses, or not much tardier, to read good authors, or cause them to be read till the attention is weary, or the memory have its full fraught. Then, with useful and generous labour, preserving the body's health and hardiness,, to render a lightsome, clear, and not a lumpish, obedience of the LIFE OF MILTON. 47 mind, for the cause of religion and our country^ s liberty, when it shall require firm hearts in sound bodies, to stand and cover their stations, rather than see the ruin of our Protestation, [P7'otestajitis7n,^ and the inforcement of a slavish life.^^ He thus castigates collegians who were theatrical per- formers. " There, while they acted and overacted, among other young scholars, I was a spectator : they thought themselves gallant men, and I thought them fools ; they made sport, and I laughed ; they mispronounced, and I misliked ; and to make up the Atticism, they were out, and I hist," He had to answer the charge of lewdness and sensual- ity from his reverend accuser ! " These means, together with a certain niceness of nature, an honest haughtiness and self-esteem, either of what I was or what I might be, (which let envy call pride,) and lastly, a burning modesty, all uniting their natural aid together, kept me still above those low descents of mind, beneath which he must de- ject and plunge himself, that can agree to salvable and unlawful prostitution." — "If I should tell you what I learnt of chastity and love, (I mean that which is truly so,) whose charming cup is only virtue, which she bears in her hand to those who are worthy ; the rest are cheat- ed with a thick, intoxicating potion, which a certain sor- ceress, the abuser of love's name, carries about : and if I were to tell you how the first and chiefest office of love begins and ends in the soul, producing those happy twins of the divine generation, knowledge and virtue, with such abstracted sublimities as these, it might be worth your listening, readers." His most reverend antagonist indulged in the following advice to Milton's acquaintances ; that is, if they were genuine Christians. " You that love Christ," said he, 48 LIFE OF MILTON. " and know this miscreant wretch, stone him to deaths lest you smart for his impunity." The following retort is too much in the stile of " rendering railing for railing ;"" though it is probable Milton thought it to be " answer- ing a fool according to his folly, lest he should be wise in his own conceit." " There be those in the world, and I among those, who nothing admire the idol of a bishop- rick ; and hold that it wants so much to be a blessing, as that I deem it the merest, the falsest, the most unfortunate gift of fortune ; and were the punishment and misery of being a bishop to be terminated only in the person, and did not extend to the affliction of the whole diocese, if I could wish any thing in the bitterness of my soul to an enemy, I should wish him the bigge&t and the fattest bishoprick." On this prayer his biographer quaintly remarks : " If Milton had been such a saint as never missed a favour- able answer to his prayers, I question not, but at this rate, more had coveted to be his enemies than his friends." " Another mark of Milton's goodwill to the bishops," says Toland, " was this unpardonable simile : — ' A bi- shop's foot, that has all its toes, (maugre the gout,) and a linen sock over it, is the aptest emblem of the prelate himself; who being a pluralist, may under one surplice hide four benefices, besides the great metropolitan toe which sends such a foul stench to heaven.' In another place, he calls their princely revenues the 'gulfs and whirlpools of benefices, but the dry pits of all sound doc- trine.' And again, ' Bishops or presbyters we know, and deacons we know, but what are chaplins ? In state, per- haps, they may be listed among the upper serving men of some great household, and be admi>tted to some such place as may stile them the servers or yeomen-ushers LIFE Of MILTON. 49 of devotion, where the master is too rusty or too rich to say his own prayers, or to bless his own table.' " His sarcasms upon the worldly-minded ministers were not confined to Episcopalians ; the Puritans, who had succeeded them in the parish livings, and, it should ap- pear, in many instances, to their covetous and libidinous practices, came in for their full share. " Oh, ye minis- ters," says he, " read here what work he makes among your gallipots, your balms, and your cordials ; and not only your sweet sippets in widow's houses, but the huge goblets, wherewith he charges you to have devoured houses and all. Cry him up for a saint in your pulpits^ while he cries you down for Atheists in hell." All these elaborate works must have been written in little more than a year after his return, and when he was but little more than thirty-three years of age. The judicious reader will have perceived, that Milton's objections to the Episcopal Church of England, were founded upon the dissenting arguments af the sufficiency of the Scriptures alone, and the rightof private judgment, in opposition to her acknowledged foundation, being the Creeds of the first four general councils, in addition to the Scriptures ; and the Antichristian principle of the right of the civil magistrate to adopt rites and ceremonies, and enforce them by civil pains and penalties, upon the observance of those whose consciences would not allow them to obey any thing in religion, but what was taught them in the oracles of God. It is fair to admit, that another circumstance which roused his mighty choler was adventitious to the order of bishops, but which, with many of that order, was an in- tegral part of their office : this was their being employed as civil officers, having to manage many of the affiiirs of government, at least in so far as related to what they 50 LIFE OF MILTON. called religious delinquencies. The decisions and sen. tences of bishops, in the Star Chamber, from which there was no appeal, were the most galling oppression, the most cruel tyranny ; and even the Canons, which had been adopted by them in their last Convocation, in 1640, had roared hoarse thunder, and sent forth more than fire and smoke against the almost only honest men, at that time, in the kingdom, the Puritans and Sectaries : the Anabaptists, Brownists, Separatists, Familists, &;c. &;c. Nor should it be overlooked, that though the blunt and strait-forward caustic style in which he attacked the pre- lates must have been highly diverting to those Puritans, both in church and state, who had begun to throw off their prelatical chains, yet the sentiments would be very far from meeting their approbation ; because, though the Puritans were opposed to Episcopacy, they yet had no objection to \\\e 'principle of an establishment, the spiritual supremacy of the monarch ; and much less to any tithes provided for the support of the priesthood ; nor, I might add, to what was, above all, exposed by Milton, the right of the established sect to withhold toleration, and to pun- ish, with fines and imprisonments, and even with death, those who would not submit their consciences to the dic- tation of the magistrate, LIFE OF MILTON. 51 CHAPTER III. 1644—1648. At this time a most dreadful civil war raged in the nation, which was began in the year 1640. The historian Hume, speaking of the meeting of parliament at that period, says : " The parliament, at meeting, (the 13th of April, 1640,) was unusually numerous. Every member looked upon this conjunction as a national crisis. The king in his speech represented the necessity of a supply to main- tain his troops, and of means to expel the Scottish rebels, that the nation in general might be free from its fears, and the northern counties disburdened of such trouble- some guests, whom they were obliged to maintain. The commons having, at the king's recommendation, filled their chair with William Lenthal, a lawyer of some rep- utation, established a committee of elections. Then they resolved that, on certain days of every week, there should be a committee of the whole house, to deliberate upon the state of religion, the grievances, the courts of justice, commerce, and the affairs of Ireland. Fanaticism, with all its levelling principles, had now overspread the land. Even those leaders of the commons who had assumed a puritanical severity in their words and actions, to work the more effectually on the minds of the populace, were gradually infected with that enthusiasm which at first they had only feigned : many became real religionists, while others imbibed a large portion of puritanism, with- out laying aside their hypocrisy. The members were generally bent upon an alteration in the government. A few moderate men sought only to ascertain the liberties of the nation : others resolved to humble and diminish 52 LIFE OF MILTON> the royal prerogative ; and there was a more violent party, that extended their views to an utter extirpation of the hierarchy and monarchical government ; but these at first carefully concealed their designs under the profession of rigid Presbyterians, and were afterwards known by the name of Independents. Religion was become a uni» versal fashion. The most eloquent speakers in the house introduced a kind of holy cant and jargon into their speeches, and all their allusions being scriptural, stamped them with an air of prophecy or inspiration."* Vol. vii. p. 169. London edition. 1759. A distinguished female writer, of sound constitutional principles and of heart-felt piety, Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson, gives the following account of the state of the nation at this period : — " The king had upon his heart the dealings both in England and Scotland with his mother, and har- boured a secret desire of revenge upon the godly in both nations, yet had not courage enough to assert his resent- ment like a prince, but employed a wicked cunning he was master of, and called king-craft, to undermine what he durst not openly oppose — the true religion : this was fenced with the liberty of the people, and so linked to- gether, that 'twas impossible to make them slaves, till they were brought to be idolaters of royalty and glorious lust , and as impossible to make them adore these gods, while they continued loyall to the government of Jesus Christ. The payment of civill obedience to the king and the laws of the land satisfied not ; if any durst dispute his impositions in the worship of God, he was presently reckon'd among the seditious and disturbers of the public ♦The reader, by bearing in his mind that Hume was a Tory in politics and an infidel in religion, will know how to appreciate this description, so far as it relates to the Puritans : he seems to have totally forgotten that it is not the prerogative of any man to search the hearts of other men. LIFE OF MILTON. 53 peace, and accordingly persecuted ; if any were grieved at the dishonour of the kingdom, or the griping of the poore, or the unjust oppressions of the subiect, by a thousand ways, invented to maintain the riotts of the courtier and the swarms of needy Scots the king had brought in to devoure Hke locusts the plenty of this land, he was a Puritane : if any, out of mere morallity and civill honesty, discountenanced the abominations of those days, he was a Puritane, however he conformed to their superstitious worship : if any showed favour to any godly, honest person, kept them company, relieved them in want, or protected them against violent or uniust oppres- sion, he was a Puritane : if any gentleman in his country maintained the good laws of the land, or stood up for any public interest, for good order or government, he was a Puritane : in short, all that crostthe viewes of the needie courtiers, the proud, encroaching priests, the theevish proiectors, the lewd nobillity and gentrie, whoever was zealous for God's glory or worship, could not endure blasphemous oaths, ribbald conversation, prophane scoffs, sabbath-breach, derision of the word of God, and the like ; whoever could endure a sermon, modest habitt, or con- versation, or something good, all these were Puritanes ; and if Puritanes, then enemies to the king and his gov- ernment, seditious factions, hypocrites, ambitious dis- turbers of the public peace, and finally, the pest of the kingdom. Such false logick did the children of darkness use, to argue with against the hated children of light, whom they branded besides as an illiterate, morose, dis- contented, melanchoUy, crazed sort of men, not fit for humane conversation : as such, they not only made them the sport of the pulpitt, which was become but a more solemn sort of stage ; but every stage, and every table, and every pupett-play, belcht forth profane scoffs upon 6 64 LIFE OF MILTON. them ; the drunkards made them their songs ; all fidlers and mimicks learned to abuse them, as finding it a most gamefull way of fooling. Thus the two factions in those dayes grew up to great heigths and enmities, one against the other ; whilst the Papist wanted not industry and subtilty to blow the coals betweene them, and was so successeful, that unless the mercy of God confounde them by their own imaginations, we may iustly feare they will at last obtane their full wish."* In order to give the reader a view of the condition of the Prelates at this period, it must be stated, that on the 15th of December, 1640, a petition was presented to the House of Commons against the Popish ceremonies in the Church ; and on the 22nd the House resolved : — " That the Clergy, in a synod or convocation, hath no power to make laws, canons, or constitutions,! to bind either Laity or Clergy, without the Parliament ; and that the canons, made by the late convocation, are against the fundamental laws of this realm, the King's prerogative, propriety of the subject, the rights of Parliament, and do tend to fac- * Memoirs of Colonel Hutchinson, written by his widow, Lucy, vol. i. p. 121-124. t From one of these condemned Canons, (No. 5,) I extract the follow- ing : — " That all those proceedings and penalties, which are mentioned in the aforesaid Canon against Popish miscreants, as far as they shall be applicable, shall stand in full force and vigor against all Anabaptists, BrownistSy Separatists^ FainilistSy or other sect or sects, person and per- sons, whatsoever, who do, or shall either obstinately refuse, or ordinarily, not having a lawful impediment, (that is, for the space of a month,) neglect to repair lo their Parish Churches or Chapels, where they inhabit, for the purpose of hearing divine service established, and receiving of the holy communion, according to law, &c. &c. &c." The penalty, excommuni- cation for the first offence. The 7ih Article, entitled " A Declaration con- cerning some Rites and Ceremonies," is, in so far as it relates to the Conmunion Table, &c. &c. the grossest popery. — See Constitutions and Canoii^, agreed to by the King, 1640, p. 21, 22, Sparrow^s Collections. LIFE OF MILTON. 55 tioa and sedition."* (Clarendon and Whitlocke com- pared, p. 57.) We learn from Hume, that on the 13th of February, two days after the execution of the persecuting Arch- bishop Laud, the House of Commons ordered a bill to be brought in for abolishing superstition. On the 1st of ♦The Dissenters from the EstabUshed Church had for many years had separate congregations, or churches, in London, though doubtless as pri- vate as possible. The first was a General or Arminian Baptist Church, in 1611. The Independents had founded a church in 1616. The Presby- terians had had separate congregations, from 1572, though their ministers still kept their parishes. But now that the parliament had put an end to the persecuting power of the bishops, the sects made no attempt to hide themselves, but met publicly at various places. The honest Thomas Fuller, in his Church History says, but not with his usual pious feeling and good temper, " oa Jan. 18, 1641, happened the first fruits of Anabaptistical in- solence, when eighty of that sect, meeting at a house in St. Saviour's, Southwarlf, preached that the statute in the 35th of Elizabeth, for the administration of common prayer, was no good law, because made by bishops; that the king cannot make a good law, because not perfectly regenerate ; and that he was only to be obeyed in civil matters. Being brought before the Lords, they confessed the articles, but no penalty was inflicted on them." The reader who is curious enough to know all about this matter, should consult, as I have done, the Journals of the House of Lords of that period. He will find that the Lords treated the six or seven men who were brought before them for having dared to preach against the king's supremacy, in spiritual matters, with great respect ; enquired where they assembled ; and intimated they would come and hear them. Accordingly, the next Lord's Day, three or four of the peers, to the great astonishment of many, went to " Deadman's Place, in Southwark ;" — three or four of the peers attend their religious worship ! — "The people went on in their usual method, having two sermons, in both of which they treated of those principles for which they had been accused ; founding their discourses upon the words of our Saviour, ' All power is given unto me, bothin heaven and inearth, ff'c' After this, they received the Lord's Supper, and then made a collection for the poor, to which the peers contributed liberally with them. At their de- parture they signified their satisfaction as to what they had heard and seen, and their inclination to come again ; but this made so much noise, that they durst not venture a second time."— (/riwey's History of the English Baptists, vol. i, p. 153, 1.54.) 56 LIFE ON MILTOPT. March, a committee was established to prepare reasons for depriving ecclesiastics of all secular en:plo3'ments. At lengih a bill for excluding ecclesiastics from all secu- lar employments passed the House of Commons, and was sent up to the Lords among whom it met with great opposition. — The Commons immediately brought in an- other bill for the total abolition of episcopacy. — Then the Lords gave them to understand, they were ready to con- cur with the first bill, excepting the clause which deprived bishops of their seats in parliament. The Commons presented nine reasons for excluding bishops from parlia- ment. On the 7th of June, the Peers voted, ' That the bishops should be maintained in their right to sit in par- liament.' — On the 15th, the lower House passed a vote, importing, ' That all deans, chapters, archdeacons, pre- bendaries, chanters, canons, and their officers, should be totally suppressed, and their revenues employed for the encouragement of study, science, and other pious uses ; that the King should be indemnified for his rents, first fruits, and other rights ; and that a convenient subsistence should be assigned to those who should be thus deprived of their livings, provided they were not delinquents.' Twelve prelates, meeting at the house of the archbishop of York, subscribed a protest, which was presented to the Lords and the King, importing, * That, as they had an incontestable right to vote in parliament, they were ready to do their duty, if not prevented by force and violence ; that they abhorred all opinions tending to the advance- ment of popery ; that, as they had been insulted, and their lives endangered by the fury of the populace, they could no longer repair to the House of Peers, unless measures should be taken for their personal safety ; and therefore they protested against all laws, votes, and reso- lutions that should be made in their absence.' — The LIFE OF MILTON. 57 Lords no sooner received this protest, (which was, in effect, an effort to dissolve or suspend the parliament,) than they demanded a conference with the Commons, who, having taken it into consideration, resolved to accuse the bishops of high treason, for having attempted to sub- vert the fundamental laws and the very essence of par- liament. This resolution was immediately executed, and the twelve bishops were committed to prison. The king passed the bill to exclude the bishops from their seats it parliament ; soon after, the two houses, in 1643, signed "the Solemn League and Covenant," which bound the two kingdoms to the extirpation of po- pery and prelacy.* — {Hume's History, vol. vii.) From this period may be dated the establishment, in- crease, and prosperity of the Independent and Baptist Churches. f Considering how much Milton had contributed towards this consummation — the abolition of Diocesan Episcopacy — the event of "the extirpation of prelacy" must have afforded him exuberant joy ; because, with his senti- * That the proceedings of the Parliament, in putting out the bishops, gave great pleasure to the country, is evident from many circumstances ; one may be mentioned : — In the Journal of the House of Lords, 22d April^ 1642, there is an entry from "the knights, &c. &c. of the county of Corn- wall," in which it is said, "That they heartily praise GckI, and thank you, for your happy conjunction with the House of Gammons, in casting out bishops for sitting and voting among you." t The Baptists, who held the principles afterwards called Calvinistic, and had, from the time of Wickliffe, been mixed up with the Lollards and Sacramentarians, formed themselves, in the year 1633, into a separate church. Their beginning was very small ; but they soon abundantly in- creased. Mr. William Kiffin, who joined them in 1638, and who became, from his character and influence, the father of the denomination, gives the following simple account of their origin. " There was a congregation of Protestant dissenters of the Independent persuasion in London, gathered in the year 1616, of which Mr. Henry Jacob was their first pastor j and after a* 58 LILE OF MILTOJT. merits, as expressed in his several treatises against the prelates, he considered, as the parliament appears to have done, that popery and prelacy were identical, or at least so closely united, that in death they could not be divided ! The pious bishop, Joseph Hall, who was one of the pro- testors^ calls the treatment they received from the Com- mons " hard measure !" It might have been so to him and a few others, who were devoted Christian ministers of the Gospel ; but as to most of them, they were any thing rather than Christian bishops ! — Cruel persecutor's of the godly dissenters, and base sycophants to the king and his oppressive ministers; and who, like Ahab, as to the votes which they gave in parliament, " sold them- selves to work iniquity ;" the non-resisting and passive obedient tools of arbitrary power ; the ready helpers to execute any oppressive measures to grind the people to powder; mean satellites and cringing hypocrites lo those him succeeded Mr. John Lathrop, who was their minister in 1633. In this society several persons, finding that tlie congregtttion kept not to its first prin- ciples of separation ; and being also convinced that baptism was- not to be administered to infants, but to such as professed faith in Christ, desired that they might be dismissed from that communion, and allowed to form a dis- tinct congregation, tx\ such order as was most agreeable to their own' sen- timents. "The church considering they were now grown very numerous, and so more than could in those times of persecution conveniently meet together; and beheving also that those persons acted from a principle of conscience, and not fi-om obstinacy, agreed trr allow them the liberty they desired, and that they should be constituted a distinct church ; which was performed SepLl2, 1633. And as they believed that baptism was not rightly ad/- Tninistered to in/ants, so they looked upon the baptism which they had at that age as invalid, whereupon j7iost all of them received a new bap- tism, [by being immersed m water on a personal profession of repentance and faith.] Their minister was Mr. John Spilsbury. What number there were is uncertain, because in the mentio-ning of about twenty men and women, it is added, 'with divers of others.' " — Hist, of Eng. Bap. vol. i. p. 138.— 1811. LIFE OF MIITON4 59 who were above them ; haughty tyrants, and bloody op- pressors to those whom they could ensnare by their et cetcera oath, or get within the purlieus of the High Com- mission Court? And was it wonderful that every British heart, and especially the hearts of Protestant dissenters, rejoiced when these tyrants, who had oppressed them for nearly a century, fell into disgrace, and were pronounced, as to their temporal and spiritual dignity, to be public nuisances? However " hard the measure," no impartial and honest Briton but what will say that it was strictly just. And what English heart now, but will raise a prayer to God — who hears the prayer of the humble, and who is always ready to help the cppressed, and to con- found the oppressor — •' So let all thine enemies perish, oh, God! hut let them that love thee he as the sun when hegoeth forth in his might P^ Judges, v. 31. We are now arrived at the year 1644, and find our hero again employed as the defender of the liberties of his countrymen. The work which he published he en- titled, " Areopagitica, or an Oration to the Parliament of England for the Liberty of unlicensed Printing." It is not improbable but the following circumstances, recorded in the Journals of the House of Lords for 1644, produced that extraordinary display of mind. "Ordered, that the gentleman-usher attending this house, shall repair to the Lord Mayor of London, and the master and wardens of the Stationers' Company, to let them know, that this House expects a speedy account of them, what they have done in finding out the author, printer, or publisher of the scandalous libel." " The wardens of the Stationers' Company gave the house an account, 'that they had used their best endeav- ours to find out the printer and author of the scandalous libel ; but they cannot yet make any discovery thereof, 60 LIFE OF MILTON. the letter being so common a letter ;' and further com- plained of the frequent printing of scandalous books, by divers, as Hezekia Woodward and John Milton." *' Hereupon it is ordered, that it be referred to Mr. Jus- tice Bacon, to examine the said Woodwa7'd and Milton, and such others as the master and wardens of the Sta- tioners' Company shall give information of concerning the printing of books and pamphlets ; and to examine also what they know concerning the libel, who was the author, printer and publisher of it. And the gentleman-usher shall attach the parties, and bring them before the judges ; and the Stationers are to be present at their examination, and give evidence against them." On June 31, "Mr. Justice Bacon informed the house of some paper which Ezeckiell Woodward confessed he made. Hereupon it is ordered he shall be released, giving his own bond to appear before this house when he shall be summoned." It does not appear that Milton was brought up. The length to which the Presbyterians carried their zeal to suppress libels, may be judged of from the follow- ing entry in the Journals, the 12th of July, 1644. " A book entitled Comfort for Believers about their Sins and Troubles, by John Archer, M. A. sometime preacher at Lombard. street." The assembly denounced it as blas- phemous ; and the Lords ordered it to be burnt by the hands of the common hangman, and all the copies of it to be called in. It was necessary, that before any book could be printed, it should receive the imprimatur of some person author- ised by the government ; and subject of course to be de- prived, by the same power, of any emolument which he might derive from his office. The object proposed by Milton was, to procure the most entire liberty of the LIFE OP MILTON, 61 press, subject to a liability to prosecution, should that lib- erty be employed for licentious or injurious practices^ such as blasphemy, or libel, or immorality ; and if the printer or publisher were found guilty^ to be punished with a specified fine. In this his immortal work, even more so than by his exposures of prelatical rank in the church, he greatly served the cause of rational, restrained liberty : because, if the pi-ess be free, we dare bishops, or any others, to be oppressive. In those he lops off the branches, and re- moves the excrescences of arbitrary power ; but in this he lays the axe to the root of the tree : — in those he cor- rected the diseases of the body politic ; in this he infuses new blood into the system, by which he at once hurled oppression to the ground, and introduced the means of producing 'political strength and beauty, and preserving civil and religious life and liberty. It is in this work that he introduces Galileo, and his hard and cruel fate. He says : " There it was, [Italy] that I found and visited the famous Galileo, grown old a prisoner to the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licenccrs thought. And though I knew that England was then groaning loudest under the pre- latical yoke, nevertheless I took it for a pledge of future happiness, that other nations were so persuaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my hope, that those worthies who were then breathing in her air, should be her leaders to such a deliverance as shall never be forgotten by any revolution of time that this world hath to finish." He first proves that the ancient Republics of Greece and Italy never prohibited any but immoral, defamatory, or atheistical publications. Nor did they judge of those crimes, by inferences or inuendoes ; as, for instance, they never suppressed the writings of the Epicureans, which 62 LIFE OF MILTON. denied the doctrine of Providence and a future state, if they did not publish their formal doubts or denials of the existence of a Deity. Yet he argued, that it was beyond contradiction, that those nations maintained an excellent government, distributing public and private justice, and abounding in all knowledge and virtue, infinitely above those who have been, in modern times, the purgers, cor- rupters or executioners of books ! The Roman Emperors, he states, were tyrants ; and none but tyrants would imitate their conduct, or think of quoting them as examples. He remarks, in respect to the primitive Christians, that tliey observed no uniformity in regard to this subject. At first they encouraged the reading of all the heathen writers, but prohibited those which were heretical among themselves ; afterwards they contended for the propriety of confuting the books of heretics, and suppressing the heathen works, even if ihey did not relate to religion ; as he mentions a Carihagenian council, about A. D. 400, when even the bishops were prohibited from reading the works of the heathen writers. He shows, that had that infamous and barbarous resolution been thoroughly exe- cuted, as it was, to a considerable degree, to what a depth of meanness it would have reduced the world, depriving it of so many inimitable historians, orators, philosophers, and poets ; the repositories of inestimable treasures, con- sisting of warlike and heroic deeds, the best and wisest rules of government, the most perfect rules and examples of eloquence and politeness, and such divine lectures of wisdom and virtue, that the loss of Cicero's works alone, or those of Livy, could not be repaired by all the fathers of the church. He proceeds to show, that where, in pro- cess of time, the clergy were exalted even above the chief ^lagistrate himself, they burnt and destroyed every thing LIFE OF MILTON, 63 which did not favour their power or superstition ; and laid a restraint upon reading, as well as upon writing, without excepting the very Bible. Nor did they stop in their course till the inquisition reduced this abominable practice to the perfection of an art, by expurgatory indexes and licensing. He then shows, that all the consequences of such tyranny had been produced in England, such as de- priving men of their natural liberty, stifling their parts, introducing of ignorance, engrossing all advantages to one party, and the like ; and that all these objections had been made by the Presbyterians against the prelates be- fore the civil wars ; but now, finding themselves in the bishop's pulpits, and possessed of their power, ihey exer- cised the same authority, and even with more intolerable rigour and severity. Then, after having given the history of the origin, progress, and mischief of licensing, he proves, that if we regard the reasons usually alleged, to prohibit the publishing of any books besides, on the sub- jects he first excepted, such as the fear of wresting, or mistaking their meaning, then we must be prohibited from reading the Bible, the Fathers, or almost any other sort of books. He then, in the second place, shows that the ends proposed by licensing the press, could not by that means be attained. In the third place he contends, that no man is fit to be a licenser, nor in any one single facul- ty, unless he is universally learned, or a better scholar than all the authors whose labours he is to licence ; and that admitting these things to be possible, which he did not grant, he would neither find strength nor time enough to peruse all books ; and should he use deputies, he was most likely to have ingorant, lazy, and mercenary fellows. He then points out the various discouragements which follow to all literature, and any new discoveries which is the pretence, in popish countries, and even to the not re- ^4 I-IFE OF MILTON. printing of the ancient authors in any language, and comes to the conclusion, that licensing is both unjust in itself, and dishonourable to a free government. He ex- poses this practice with all the felicity of language, by a number of different representations. " A man," says he, « may be an heretic in the truth ; and if he believes only because his pastor says so, or the ' Assembly' so deter- mines, without knowing any other reason, though his behef be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy. There is not any burden that some would glad- lier put off to another, than the charge and care of their religion. Who knows not that there be some Protestants who live in as arrant implicit faith as any lay papist of Loretto ? A wealthy man, addicted to his pleasures and his profits, finds religion to be a traffic so entangled, and of so many piddling accounts, that of all mysteries he cannot bear to keep a stock going upon that trade ; what does he therefore, but resolves to give over toiling, and to find out some factor, to whose care and credit he may commit the whole management of his religious affairs, and that he must be some divine of note and estimation! To him he adheres, resigns the whole warehouse of his religion, with all the locks and keys, into his custody, and indeed makes the very person of that man his reli- gion, esteem his associating with him a sufficient evidence and commendation of his own piety ; so that a man may say his religion is now no more within himself, but is be- come a dividual moveable, and goes and comes near him as that good man frequents the house. He entertains him, gives him gifts, feasts him, lodges him ; his religion comes home at night, prays, is liberally supped, and sumptuously laid to sleep; rises, and is saluted, and (after the mamlsy, or some well-spiced beverage, and better breakfasted than he whose morning appetite would LIFE OF MILTON. 65 have gladly fed on green figs between Bethany and Jeru- salem,) his religion walks abroad at eight, and leaves his kind entertainer in the shop, trading all day without his religion ! *'Nor much better will the consequence be among the clergy themselves. It is no new thing, never heard of before, for a parochial minister v/ho has his reward, and is at his Hercules Pillars in a warm benefice, to be easily inclinable (if he has nothing else to rouse up his studies) to finish his circuit in an English concordance, and a Topic folio. The gatherings and sayings of a sober graduateship, a harmony, and a Catina, treading the con- stant round of certain common doctrinal heads, attended with their uses, motives, marks, and means ; out of which, as out of an alphabet, or scl fa mi, by forming and trans- forming, joining and disjoining variously, a little book- craft, and two hours' meditation, he might furnish him- self unspeakably to the performance of more than a weekly charge of sermoning ; not to reckon up the in- finite helps of interlinearies, breviaries, cynopses, and other loitering gear. But, as for the multitude of ser- mons already printed on every text that is not difficult, he need never fear penury of pulpit provision ; yet if his rear and flanks be not inspected, if his back-door be not secured by the rigid Licenser, but that a bold book may now and then issue forth, and give an assault to some of his old collections in their trenches, it will concern him to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good guard and centinels about his received opinions, to walk round and counter-round with his fellow-inspectors, fearing lest any of his flock be seduced, who also then would be better in- structed, better exercised and disciplined : and Godsend that the fear of this diligence, which must then be used, do not make us effect the laziness of a licensing church." 66 LIFE OF MILTON. The following burst of noble eloquence is perhaps on- rivalled in sublimity of thought and adaptedness of words : " Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks : methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam ; purging and unsealing her long-abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about amazed at what she means*, and in their envious gabble would prognosticate a year of sects and schisms.'* This most energetic appeal, and most poignant satire, produced no effect upon a contracted, presbyterian gov- ernment. That they remained inexorably determined to put chains and locks upon the printing presses, appeared from the following circumstance. The arguments used by Milton, induced one Mabal, a licenser, to oflfer his reasons against licensing, and at his own request he was permitted to give up the office !f ♦It is amusing to read the remarks of Si/mmons on this passage. He says, " the passage should have ended with ' means.' The imagery is spoilt and broken by the concluding words, ' sects and schisms.' " Yes, it might have been more elegant; but then his object in writing it would have been lost : he meant, that " the birds who loved the twilight" should take a hint, that they could not bear that light of truth which led men off from the established church. tThe following history, from a note in the 4th vol. of Blackstone's Com- mentaries, p. 152, (eleventh edition,) shows that Corruption is a monster that will not die easily, when there are paid servants of the state to nourish it, and cherish it, and keep it alive. — "The art of printing, soon after its introduction, was looked upon (as well in England as in other countries) as merely a matter of state, and subject to the coercion of the crown. It was therefore regulated with us by the king's proclamation, prohibitions, charters of privilege, and of license, and finally, by the decrees of the LIFE OF MILTON. 67 In his thirty-fifth year, he entered into the marriage state, at Whitsuntide, 1643, with MARY,the daughter of Richard Powell, of Forest-Hill, near Shotover in Oxfordshire : he was a justice of the peace, and a person of great respect- abihty in that part of the country. Toland says : " But whether it was that this young woman, accustomed to a large jovial family, could not iive in a philosophical retire- ment ; or that she was not perfectly satisfied with the per- son of her husband : or lastly, that because all her rela* tions were all addicted to the royal interest, his democra- tical principles were disagreeable to their humour, (nor is it improbable the father repented of his match, upon the prospect of some success on the king's side, who then had his head-quarters at Oxford)or whatever was the reason, 'tis certain, that after he had enjoyed her company at London for about a month, she was invited by her friends to spend the rest of the summer in the country : to which he con- sented, on condition that she returned at Michaelmas. Yet he saw her not at the time appointed, and after re- couit of star-chamber, which hmitedthe number of printers, and of presses which each should employ, and prohibited new publications, unless pre- viously approved by the proper licensers. On the demolition of this odious jurisdiction ia 1641, the long parliament of Charles I. after their rupture with that prince, assumed the same powers as the star-chamber exercised with respect to the licensing of books.; and in 1643, 1647, 1649, and 1652, (Scobell I. 44, 134; II. 83, 232;) issued their ordinances for that purpose founded principally on the star-chamber decree of 1637. In 1662 was passed the statute 13 and 14 Car. II. c 33, which (with some few altera- tions) was copied from th^i parliamentary ordinances. This act expired in 1679, but was revived by statute 1 Jac. fl. c. 17, and continued till 1692. It was then continued for two years longer by statute 4th W. and JVI. c. 24. But though frequent attempts were made by the government to revive it, in the subsequent part of that reign, (Com. Journ. II. Feb. 1694, 26th Nov. 1695, 22nd Oct. 1696, 9th Feb. 1697, 3lst Jan. 1698,) yet the parliament •resisted it so strongly, that it finally expired, and the press became properly free in 1694, and has ever since so continued." 68 LIFE OF MILTOPf* ceiving several of his letters without sending him any an- swer, she did at length positively refuse to come, dismiss- ing his messenger with contempt." That a man of his high and honourable spirit, should have been incensed at such contemptuous conduct, from so near and endeared a companion as his wife, may be easily conceived, and ought not to be condemned as im- proper resentment : whether all the steps which he took in consequence were alike justifiable, will admit of a seri- ous question, and respecting which there will perhaps be different opinions. As all his attempts to induce his wife to return to his house proved ineffectual, he thought his own reputation and repose demanded that he should declare her to be no longer his wife ! It is said that he endeavoured to make his constrained widowhood, for nearly four years, as easy and cheerful as he could ; to which the sprightly wit and good sense of Lady Margaret Lee,, daughter of the Earl o£ Marlborough, greatly contributed. He frequently visi- ted her ladyship ; and the high esteem he entertained for her, has been well expressed in a sonnet found among his occasional poems. Having taken his firm resolution to repudiate his wife,, and never to receive her back again, he thought it proper pubHcly to attempt a justification of this step, and there- fore published, in the year 1644, his work on the " Doc- trine and Discipline of Divorce. "^ This he dedicated to the Parliament, and the Assembly of Divines at Westmin- ster ; hoping that as they were employed in promoting a general reformation of the kingdom, they might take this subject also of domestic liberty into consideration ; being of opinion that all the hoasied freedom of public judica- tures signified little, if the mean while the husband must be obliged to submit to a kind of servitude in domestic life,, XIFE or MILTON, 69 below the dignity of a man, or, as he expressed it, "a disconsolate household captivity, without refuge or re- demption." His design was to show that there are other sufficient reasons for divorce besides adultery, and that to prohibit any sort of divorce, but such as are excepted by Moses, is unjust, and against the reason of the law. The grand position he maintains is, " That indisposition , unfits ness, and contrary humours, proceeding from any unchange- able cause in nature, hindering, and always likely to hin- der, the main ends and lenejits of conjugal society, that is to say, peace and delight, are greater reasons of divorce than ADULTERY, or natural frigidity, provided there he a mutual consent for separation. ^^ On this book appearing, the clergy in general declaimed against it, charging its author with atheism, heresy, lewd- ness, &c. &c. They daily instigated the Parliament, but in vain, to pass their censure of condemnation upon it ; and at length one of them, on a day of public humiliation, told them that "there was a wicked book abroad, which deserved to be burnt, and that among their other sins they ought to repent : it had not yet been branded with a mark of their displeasure." This, and the opposition to it by some other ministers, led him to publish his Tetrachordon, which also was dedicated to the Parliament. This was an exposition of the four chief passages of Scripture that treat of marriage, viz. Gen. i. 27 : ii. 18, &c.; Deut. xxiv. 1 ; Matt. V. 31, &c.; and Matt. xix. 3, &c. Other pas- sages from the Epistles he also occasionally explains, and then produced the authority of some eminent men who favoured his opinion. The following lines are upon this subject : — " I did but prompt the ag'e to quit their clogs, By the known rules of antient hberty; When strait a barbarous noise environs me, 7* 70 LIFE OF MILTON, Of owls, and cuckoos, asses, apes and dogs : As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs. Railed at Latona'^s twin-born progfny, Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee ; But this is got by casting pearls to hogs, That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, And still revolt when truth would set them free ; License they mean when they cry Liberty : For who loves that, must first be wise and goods, But from that mark how far they roave we see, For all this waste of wealth and loss of blood."" He published yet another piece on this subject, entitled^ "The Judgments of the famous Reformer, Martin Bucer,. touching Divorce, extracted out of the second book of the kingdom of Christ, dedicated to king Edward the Sixth." Bucer exactly agreed with Milton on this subject, though the latter had not seen it till after the publication of his first volume concerning it. The fourth book on the subject of Divorce was his Co- lasterion, a reply to one of his anonymous answerers,. " who," it is said, " added to all the dulness and ignorance imaginable, the greatest degree imaginable of bitterness and malice." It is probable Milton would not have humbled himself to answer this, but for the circumstance of the Rev. J. Caryl, the commentator on the Book of Job, having put to it his imprimateio', adding to it his own condemnation of Milton's opinions. How very angry he was with Mr. Caryl will appear from the following taunt- ing reproach : " Mr. Licenser, you are reputed a man discrete enough, that is, to an ordinary competence in all these : but now your turn is to hear what your own hand has earned you, that when you suffered this nameless hangman to cast into public such a spiteful contumely up. on a name and person deserving of the church and state equally to yourself, and one who has done more to the LIFE OF MILTON. 71 present advancement of your own tribe, than you or many of them have done for themselves ; you forgot to be either honest, religious or discrete. Whatever the state might do concerning it, supposing it were a matter to expect evil from it, I should not doubt to meet among them with wise, and honourable, and knowing men. But as to this brute libel, so much the more impudent and lawless for the abused authority which it bears, I say again, that I abo- minate the censures of rascals and their licensers," To prove himself a firm believer in the maxims which he had produced on this most provoking occasion, he was seriously negociating another marriage with Miss Davis, a young lady of great wit and beauty. This, how- ever, was prevented by a most unexpected occurrence. Being one day at the house of a relation named Black- borough, in St. Martin's Le Grand, whom he often visited, he was extremely surprised to meet his wife there, whom he had never expected to see again. She threw herself at his feet, confessed her fault, and with tears intreated his forgiveness. At first he appeared to be unmoved and inexorable ; but at length the generosity of his temper, and the intercession of some mutual friends, conquered his anger, and a perfect reconciliation took place, with the promise of oblivion of every thing which had happen- ed. As a proof of his having forgiven her and her relations, who it is most probable had been the principal cause of all his domestic troubles, he received his wife's father and mother, and several of her brothers and sisters, into his own house, their political party having declined in influence. This was more than they could have ex- pected from him, as they had doubtless been the occasion of separating "those whom God had joined together," and had thus exposed themselves to a divine malediction : ** Cursed is he that parteih man and wife," Milton 72 LIFE OF MILTON. kindly entertained them until their own affairs were in a better condition. The scene which we have been constrained to survey, is most humiliating and confounding. One is ready to say, Oh ! that oblivion had in kindness cast its mantle over such disgusting details. The champion of a nation's right, the fearless and undaunted assertor of civil and religious liberty, and the successful advocate of the un- shackled press, himself a domestic tyrant ! objecting to the restraint with which God and nature had guarded the marriage union, and refusing to the wife of his bosom, the companion of his life, those equal rights to which with himself she was justly entitled. " Yet she is thy compan- ion, and the wife of thy covenant : and did he not make ONE ?" (Malachi ii. 14.) Milton and his vyife did not, it is evident, understand the principles of the marriage cov- enant : they were not " one ! but two /" Nor did he treat her, so far as it appears, as if she was his " companion,^' but his household slave ! Nor did he fulfil the conditions of the ^^ covenant,'' into which he had voluntarily entered when she consented to become his wife, a covenant of reciprocal duties, and of equal privileges. His biogra. phers say, that Mrs. Milton " refused to return ;" per- haps she was justifiable in that refusul : she might have been treated superciliously and contemptuously by her husband. " He wrote several letters to her which she did not answer." It would have been better had he paid her an affectionate visit. He then sent a servant, doubtless de- manding her from her father, and then " she positively refused to come and dismissed the messenger with con- tempt !" Admitting the supposition to be just, that he had sent his lordly commands, requiring her submission to his authority, she acted rightly and with a becoming LIFE OF MILTON. 73 spirit. He became incensed at this, and resolved, out of regard to his " honor" and " repose," to repudiate her as no longer worthy his confidence or affection. A hus- band who could act with this haughty feeling towards his companion, must have strange notions of what, in such a case, was honourable ; and as seeking repose by such means, was the most imlucky plan he could have adopted, as the sequel abundantly shows. An obedient regard to the directions of the Apostle Paul, (Eph. v. 21 — 25) would have soon settled all this strife, or, more properly speak- ing would have prevented it altogether. In this matter Milton appears like Samson when shorn of his Nazarite locks — become " weak, and as other men." Milton's great strength, like that of Samson, lay in his knowledge of, and obedience to, the principles of re- vealed truth. While he adhered closely to these, he snapped with ease " the green withs," and the " new ropes ;" and when even the " seven locks of his head were woven with a web, however closely fastened, " he went away with both the pin of the beam and the web." He despatched with almost infinite ease all the shophistry, and learning, and opprobrium employed by the bishops and others to bind and afflict him ; Who sino-le combatant Duel'd their armies rank'd in proud array, Himself an army, now an unequal match To save himself against n coward arm'd At one spear's length. O ever failing trust In mortal strength ! And oh ! what not in man Deceivable and vain V* But on this subject of divorce, oh! how weak are his struggles, nerveless his arguments, how pettish his tern* * Samson Agonistes. '74 LIFE OF MILTON. per, how peevish his language! The weakest of his opponents, in this controversy, were his match, more than his equal ; and like Samson too, he does not appear to have been aware that ^'the Lord had departed from himf" That he who had treated the Fathers with such contempt should now have appealed to them ; and even to an apocryphal writer for support ! That so powerful a mind should have rested an argument in relation io positive law j upon the shifting ground o^ expediency ! Oh ! what mer- riment it must have afforded to his enemies to see this mental giant bound with fetters of brass, and grinding in the prison house of Gaza ! And how must he have been annoyed by the noise of the "owls, and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs!" Alas! that he should have been en- tirely ignorant of the ungodly temper which he was him- self manifesting, and of the erroneous and inconsistent principles which he was pleading. Is it not suprising that he could not see his own face in the mirror of his own transparent lines upon this subject? namely, those " That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, And still revolt when truth would make them free ; Licence they mean when they cry Liberty ; For who loves that^ must first be wise and good." CowPER, though a bachelor, understood this subject of " Domestic Duties," better than Milton the married man. In his inimitable little piece, entitled ^' Mutual forbear, ance necessary to the Marriage state ;" he has in fine satire exposed the trifling circumstances which often lead to "jar and tumult and intestine war." He there says, in his own best manner : " Alas ! and is domestic strife, That sorest ill of human life A plague so little to be feared, LIFE OF MILTON. 75 As to be wantonly incurred, To gratify a fretful passion, On every trivial provocation ? The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear ; And something, every day they live, To pity, and perhaps^/brg-ire." It appears most evident to me, that in regard to his treatment of his wife, Milton was neither " wise nor good ;" and tliat he unconsciously, while pleading with the parliament to grant him " domestic liberty,^^ was seeking a " license'^ to absolve him from the just and equitable restraints of the laws of God and man. And oh ! what a closing scene, when his obstinate wife, rath- er than see her place occupied by another, bathed in tears, falls at the feet of her still inexorable husband, supplicating his forgiveness ! It was well for both parties that " his hair begun to grow again after he had been shaven ; rather that his God had mercifully returned to him, and stirred up the generosity of his nature to forgive his humbled companion, who seems to have at least con- sented to receive forgivenovss upon the condition of being " obliged to accept a kind of servitude at home below the dignity of a woman T^ And this domestic lord received to his bosom a slave, instead of an equal ! At all events, I rejoice that they were again reconciled, and that our English Samson had afterwards sufficient strength, as he evinced in his Defences of the People of England, by re- moving the two pillars of passive obedience and non-re- sistance, to pull down the temple of despotism upon the lords of the Philistines ! The first of the before-named elaborate works, on this most painful and humiliating subject, as has been men- tioned, he dedicated *'To the Parliament of England, with 76 LIFE OF MILTON. the Assembly of Divines at Westminister." He thus commences his appeal : " If it were seriously askt, (and it would be no untimely question, renowned Parliament, select Assembly,) who, of all teachers and masters that ever have taught, halh drawn most disciples after him, both in religion and manners, it might not be untruly an- swered— Custom. Though Virtue be commended for the most persuasive in her theory, and Conscience, as the plain demonstration of the spirit, finds most evincing; yet, whether it be the secret of divine will, or the original blindness we are born in, so it happens, for the most part, that Custo?n still is silently received for the best instructor. You it concerns chiefly, worthies in Parliament, on whom, as on our deliverers, all our grievances and cares, by the merits of your eminence and fortitude are devolved; me it concerns next, having, with much labour and faithful diligence, first found out, or at least, with a fearless and communicative candour, first publisht, to the mamfest o-ood of Christendom, that which, calling to mmd every tiling mortal and immortal, I believe unfainedly to be true. Let not other men think their conscience bound to search continually after truth, to pray for enlightenings from above, to publish what they think they have so at- tained, and debar me from conceiving myself tied by the same duties." Having asserted that the inviolability of marriage had no other law but custotn, he then states, in few words, the arguments of his opponents, founded upon the practice of divorces having been permitted by Moses, though not sanctioned by tae lav. of God. "This," he says, "is the common doctrine, that adulterous and injurious di- vorces were not connived only, but, with eye open, out- law'd of old foi l.ardness of heart. But that opinion, I trust, by this following argument hath been well read, IIPE OF MILTON. 77 *WiU be left for one of the mysteries of an indigent Anti- Christ to farm out incest by, and those his other tributary pollutions. The superstition of the Papist is, touch not, taste not, when God bids both ; and ours is part not, sepa- rate not, when God and charity both permit and command. < Let all your things he done in charity,^ saith St. Paul ; and his Master saith, ' she is the fulfilling of the law ,•' yet now a civil, an indifferent, a somewhat dissuaded law of marriage must be forc't upon us to fulfil, not only without charity, but against her. No place in heaven or earth, except hell, where charity may not enter ; yet marriage, the ordinance of our solace and contentment, the remedy of our loneliness, will not admit now of either charity or mercy to come in, and mediate or pacific the fierceness of this gentle ordinance, the unremedied lowliness of this remedy. Advise ye well, supreme senate, if charity be thus excluded and expulst, how ye will defend the un- tainted honor of your own actions and proceedings. Whatever else ye can enact, will scarce concern a third part of the British name ; but the benefit and good of this your magnanimous example, will easily spread far beyond the banks of Tweed, and the Norman isles. It would not be the first or the second time, since our ancient Druides, by whom this island was the cathedral of phi- losophy in France, left off" their pagan rites, that England hath had this honour vouchsaft from heav'n, to give re- formation to the world. Who was it but our English Constaniine, that baptized the Roman Empire ? Who was it but the Northumbrian Willibrodr and Winfride, of Devon, with their followers, were the first apostles of Germany ? Who but Alcuim and WicJclif, our country- men, opened the eyes of Europe, the one in arts, the other in religion ? Let not England forget her prece- dence of teaching nations how to live. For me, as far 8 78 LIFE OF MILTON. as my part leads me, I have already the greatest gain of assurance and inward satisfaction, to have done in this, nothing unworthy of an honest life, and studies well em- ployed. Willi that event, among the wise and right un- derstanding of men I am secure : but how among the drove of custom and prejudice this will be relisht — by such whose capacity, since their youth run ahead into the easie creek of a system or a medulla, sails there at will, under the blown phisiognomy of their unlaboured rudi- ments — for them, whatever their tast€ will be, I have also surety sufficient, from the entire league there hath always been between formal ignorance and grave obsti- nacy. "I seek not to seduce the simple and illiterate; my errand is to find out the choicest and the learnedest, who have this high gift of wisdom, to answer solidly, or to be convinc't. I crave it from the piety, the learning, and the prudence, which is housed in this place. It might, perhaps, have been more fitly written in another tongue ; and I had done so, but that the esteem I have for my country's judgment, and the love I bear to my native language, to serve it first with what I endeavour, made me speak it thus, ere I assay the verdict of outlandish readers. And perhaps also here I might have ended nameless, but that the address of these lines, chiefly to the Parliament of England, might have seemed ungrateful, not to acknowledge by whose religious care, unwearied watchfulness, courageous and heroick resolutions, I enjoy the peace and studious leisure to remain, the Honourer and Attendant of their noble worth and virtues, — Johx Milton." In the preface he thus fairly states his design : — " This therefore shall be the task and period of this discourse, — to prove, first, that other reasons of divorce, besides LIFE OF MILTON. 79 adultery, were, by the law of Moses, and are yet to be allowed by the christian magistrate, as a piece of justice ; and that the words of Christ are not hereby contraried. Next, that to prohibit absolutely any divorce whatsoever, except those which Moses excepted, is against the reason of the law. Not that license and levity, and an uncon- sented breach of faith should herein be countenanc'd ; but that some conscionable and tender pitty might be had of those, who have, unwarily, and in a thing which they have never practised before, made themselves the bond- men of a luckless and helpless matrimony. This only is desired of them, who are minded to judge hardly of thus maintaining, that they would be still, and hear all oui, nor think it equal to answer deliberate reason with sudden ^ heat and noise ; remembering this, that many truths, now of renowned esteem and credit, had their birth and beginning once from singular and private thoughts ; whiiie the most of men were otherwise possest, and had the fate, at first, to be generally exploded, and exclaimed on by many violent opposers." In the first chapter he lays down this position : " That indisposition, unfitness, or contrariet}'^ of mind, arising from a cause in nature unchangeable, hindering, and ever likely to hinder, the main benefits of conjugal soci- «ty, which are solace and peace, is a greater reason of divorce than natural frigidity, especially if there be no children." In confirmation of this, he quotes, with ap- probation, " what learned Fagius^^ hath said upon this law : — ' The law of God,' says he, ' permitted divorce for the help of humane weakness. For every one that of necessity separates cannot live single. That Christ de- nied divorce to his own, hinders us not ; for what is that to the unregenerate, who hath not attained such perfection ? J-^et not the remedy be despised, that was given to weak- 80 LIFE OF MIlTOSr. ness. And when Christ saith, who marries the divorc''t commits adultery, it is to be understood, ifhe had any^ plot in the divorce/" In the second chapter he says : — "And what this chief end was of creating woman, to be joined with man, his own instituting words declare, and are infallible to inform us what is marriage, and what is no marriage, unless we can think them set there to no purpose. ' It is not good/ said he, ' iJiat man should he alone ; I will maJce him an help meet for him.^ From which words, so plain, less cannot be concluded, than, that in God's intentions, a meet and happy conversation is the chiefest and noblest end of marriage." The inference which he draws from this, is, that the want of a suitable disposition of mind in a wife, yreventing her from being an " help meet/'' is a suffix cient cause, according to the law of Moses, forgiving hei a bill of divorcement, and putting her away. In chapter the third he says : — " but some are ready to object, that the disposition ought seriously to be consid- ered before. But let them know again, that, for all the wariness that can be used, it may befal a discreet man to be mistaken in his choice, and we have plenty of exam- pies. Whereas the sober man may easily chance to meet with a mind, to all other due consideration inacces- sible, and to all the more estimable and superior purposes of matrimony useless, and almost lifeless : and what a solace, what a fit help such a consort would be, through the whole life of a man, is more painful to conjecture than to have experienced." In the fourth chapter he attempts to prove, that, if a man has, by mistake, taken for his wife " a mute and spiritless mate," who cannot, as " a speaking help," be such " a ready and reviving associate in marriage, as shall soothe all the sorrows and casualties of life," he is LIFE OF MILTON. 81 fully justified in putting such an one away, and taking one who is suitable for " the note which now directs him, and the loneliness which leads him still powerfully to seek a fit help, hath not the least grain of a sin in it^ if he be worthy to understand himself." In chapter the fifth, he pursues his argument in showing the temptations to which a man would find himself ex- posed, who having " not neglected that sure entrance which was to be obtained, to the comforts and enjoyments of a contented marriage." — " When he shall find himself bound fast to an uncomplying discord of nature, or as it often happens to an image of earth and fleam, with whom he looked to be the co-partner of a sweet and gladsome society, and sees withal that this bondage is now inevita- ble, though he be almost the strongest christian, he will be ready to despair in virtue, and mutiny against Divine Providence," In chapter the sixth he is quhe metaphorical : — " And of matrimonial love, no doubt but that was chiefly meant, which by the ancient sages was thus parabled : That love, if he be not twin born, yet hath a brother named Anteros ; whom, while he seeks all about, his chance is to meet with many fails and feigning desires that wander singly, up and down in his likeness, &c. — shewing us that love in marriage cannot subsist without being mutual ; and where love cannot be, there can be left of wedlock nothing but the empty husk of an outside matrimony, as undelightful and unpleasing to God, as any other kind of hypocrisie. So far is his command from tying men to the observance of duties, which there is no help for, but they must be dissembled." In thia chapter he gives a fifth reason that an unsuitable disposition in a wife " hinders and disturbs the whole life of a christian." — " Who sees not therefore how much more christianly it would be to 8* 82 LIFE OF MILTOX. break by divorce that which is more broken by undue and forcible keeping, rather than to cover the altar of the Lord with continual tears, so that he regardeth not the offer- ing any more ; rather that this, the whole worship of a christian man's life should languish and fade way beneath the weight of an incurable grief and discouragements. He then shews that the reason which was given for divorcing an " Idolatress,"" which was, " lest his heart should be alienated from the true worship of God," applies with all its force, in the case of an unsuitable disposition in a wife ; " for in the account of God it comes all to one, that the wife looses him a servant, and therefore, by all the united force of the Decalogue, she ought to be disbanderf unless we must set marriage above God and charity, which is a doctrine of devils, no less than forbidding to marry." In the eighth chapter he undertakes to prove (from I Cor. chap, vii.) that " an idolatrous heretick wife ought to be divorced after a convenient time given for conven- ience." " With what a vehemence (he says) Job, the patientest of men, rejected the desperate councils of his wife; and Moses, the meekest, being thoroughly offended with the profane speeches of Zipporah, sent her back to her father ! But if they shall perpetually, at our elbow, seduce us from the true worship of God, or defile and daily scandalize our conscience by their hopeless contin- uance in misbelief, then even, in the due progress of rea- son, and that ever equal proportion which justice proceeds by, it cannot be imagined that this cited place commands less than a total and final separation from such an ad- herent, at least that no force should be used to keep them together ; while we remember that God com- manded Abraham to send away his irreligious wife and son, for the offences which they gave in a pious family : and it may be guest that David for a like cause dis- LIFE OF MILT03\% 83 posed of Michal in such sort, as little differed from dis- mission." In the tenth chapter he undertakes to show, " that Adul- tery is not the greatest breach of Matrimony — that there may be other violations as great." — " I now," says he, " having shewn that disproportion, contrariety, or mean- ness of mind, may justly be divorced, by proving clearly that the prohibition thereof opposes the express end of God's institution," &c. In this chapter he attempts to prove, " that to prohibit divorce sought for natural cases, is against nature." — He says : " And that there is a hidden efficacie of love and hatred in man, as well as in other kinds, not moral, but natural, which though not al- ways in the choice, yet in the success of marriage will ever be most predominant, besides daily experience, the author of Ecdesiasticus, whom wisdom hath set him next to the Bible, acknowledges, xiii. 16. ' A man,' saith he, * will cleave to his like.' " In the eleventh chapter he undertakes to prove, "That sometimes continuance in marriage may be evidently the shortening or endangering of life to either party, both law and divinity concluding that life is to be preferred before marriage, the intended solace of life. In the twelfth chapter, I suspect we have the true causes assigned why Mrs. Milton had left, and refused to return to her disconsolate, solitary husband. " It is most sure," he says, " that some who are not plainly de- fective in body, yet are destitute of all other marriageable gifts, and consequently have not the calling to marry, &;c. Yet it is sure that many such, not of their own desire, hut hy the persuasion of friends, or not knowing themselves, do often enter into wedlock ; where, finding the difference at length between the duties of a married life, and the gifts of a single life, what unfitness of mind, what wearisomeness, what scru- .84 LIFE OP MILTON. pies and doubts to an incredible offence and displeasure are like to follow between^ may soon be imagined ; whom thus to shut up, and immure, and shut up together, the one with a mischosen mate, the other in a mistaken calling, is not a cause which wisdom and tenderness ought to use. As for the customs that some parents and guardians have of forcing marriages, it will be better to say nothing of such savage inhumanity but only thus — that the law which gives not all freedom of divorce to any creature indued with reason so assassinated, is next to cruelty." This supposed case I have no doubt draws back the curtain, and shows us the scene of family discord which, even during the honey-moon, existed in the house at the end of an alley, looking into a garden in Aldersgate Street ! " And like a bird that is hampered, he struggles to get loose." Quoting the words of our Lord, " All men can- not receive this saying, save they to whom it is given : he that is able to receive it, let him receive it. What saying is this which is left to a man's choice, to receive or not receive ? What but the married life ? Was our Saviour so mild and so favourable to the weakness of a single man, and is he turned on the sudden so rigorous and inexorable to the distresses and extremities of an ill wedded man ? Did he so graciously give leave to change the better single life for the worst married life ? Did he open to us this hazardous and accidental door of marriage, to shut upon us like the fate of death, without retracing or returning, without permitting to change the worst, most insupporta- ble, most unchristian mischance of marriages, for all the mischiefs and sorrows that could ensue, being an ordi- nance which was especially given as a cordial and exhi!- irating cup of solace, the better to bear our cup of afflic- tions? Questionless this were a hard-heartedness of undivorcing, worse than in the Jews, which, they say, LIFE OF MILTOJf. 85 extorted the allowance from Moses, and is utterly disso- nant from all the doctrines of our Saviour." " Again," says he, " Christ himself tells us who should not be put asunder, namely, those whom God hath joined together. A plain solution of this great controversy, if men would but use their eyes. For whom is it that God may be said to join ? Only those where the minds are fitly disposed and enabled to maintain a cheerful conversation to the solace and love of each other, according as God intended and promised in the very first foundation of Matrimony ; / will make him a help meet for him. For surely what God intended and promised, that only can be thought to be his joining, and not the contrary." I acknowledge that I have drudged through this erro- neous pamphlet with much pain of heart ; and could have wished, had it been possible, to have gone backward and thrown a veil over such shameful reasonings, on a subject which the word of God has made so plain, that " the way- faring man though a fool, need not err," if he pay a sim- ple regard to both the laws of God and man in regard to marriage. My opinion is, that admitting the existence of all the defects in Mrs. Milton's temper and mental ca- pacity, and even her want of the knowledge of religion, that these were to her husband reasons why he should have exercised great " forbearance, and probably, in many cases, " forgiveness," but were no sufficient ground for his " putting away his wife and marrying another," which nothing but her having dishonoured his bed could have justified.* Will not the following language of the * Aubrey relates of Mrs. Milton, that she was brought vip and bred where there was a great deal of company and merriment, as dancing, &c. j and when she came to live with her husband, she found it solitary. No company came to her : and she often heard her nephews cry and be beaten. This life was irksome to her, and she went home to her parents. He sent 86 MFE OF MILTOK. prophet Malachi apply to this case 1 — " Because the Lord liath been witness between thee and the wife of thy youths against whom thou hast dealt treacherously : yet is she thy companion, and the wife of thy covenant. And did he not make one?'' — That is, as I understand it, does not the co- venant into which a man and woman enters at marriage make them one ? " One'' as to mutual duties ; " one" as to mutual rights. Now, so far as appears, Milton had no thought as to his being under any obligation to bear with the infirmities, and to overlook the provocations of his wife ! He does not say a word which indicates that his wife had a claim upon him — even admitting that she had given him great occasion for offence — for his affec tion and pardon. I fear Milton cannot, in regard to the spirit and treatment manifested towards her, (as she oiight to have been considered by him as his " companion, bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh," and to have been loved by him " even as Christ loved the Church,") be defended from the charge of domestic tyranny. It is most humi- liating, that the man who so powerfully defended the re- ligious and civil rights and liberties of the nation, against B tyrannical monarch and oppressive prelaty, should have himself treated the wife of his bosom in a similar oppres- sive manner ! As regards domestic jars, I should never think the question applicable. Who gave the first offence '^ but rather. Which will be the first in showing a spirit of, and adopting means for, promoting reconciliation ? But did Milton act as a husband ought to do towards his obstinate wife ? Should he not have gone himself to her father's house, and entreated her ; rather than have sent his servant with his commands that she should instantly return home ; accompanied probably with a threat, if she for her home after some time. " As for wronging his bed, I never heard the least suspicion of that ; nor had he of that any jealousie."— Quoted by Todd, LIFE OP MILTON. 87 did not return immediately he would not receive her at all ? I do not wish to justify what might perhaps have been ill-tempered and perverseness in Mrs. Milton ; but surely she did not act wrong in refusing to submit to the indignity of being treated rather as his servant than his companion — his other-self! Nor is it greatly to the cre- dit of Milton, that her obstinacy should have first yielded, by whatever means it was overcome : nor that he for a time seem.ed to be inexorable, even while this " weaker vessel was supplicating the forgiveness of her " own hus- band," with strong cryings and tears. — Well, I drop the curtain, rejoicing that he was not suffered, by the provi- dence of God, to go on madly in the way of his heart, and by marrying Miss Davis, to have consummated his brutal conduct towards his erring wife, and thus have put an irremediable brand of infamy upon his own character ; the which perhaps is still the fairest, even with this glar- ing defect, of any of which our country or the world has produced ! The fact is, Milton in this instance appears " to have been left by God to walk in his own counsels," in order that he might be tried, and know what was in his heart. Instead of trusting in God with all his heart, he leaned to his own understanding ; and thus furnished an affecting proof, that the best of men are but men at the best ! God prevents, by his providence, that any of his servants shall become idols of adoration : and will it be seen there are none of them but what at times, need the compassion even of their fellow. servants ! It is deeply affecting, that such a great man as Milton should have been "made the reproach of the foolish."* * As a proof of this remark, take the following extract from Familiar Letters, Vol. iv. By James Howell, Esq., 1655 : — " But that opinion of a poor shallow-brained puppy, who upon any cause 88 WFE OF MILTON. I have been particular in extracting the reasons of Milton for this new and dangerous opinion, that the judi- cious reader may form his own judgment. I will now quote the concluding paragraph of his pamphlet, which he doubtless intended should concentrate the strength of all his arguments : — " Last of all," he says, " to those whose mind is still to maintain textual restriction, whereof the bare sound cannot consist sometimes with humanity, much less with charity, I would ever answer by putting them in remembrance of a command above all commands, which they seem to have forgotten, and who spake it ; in comparison whereof this [the law concerning marriage] which they exalt, is but a petty and subordinate precept. Let them go therefore with whom I am loth to couple them, yet they will needs run into the same blindness with the Pharisees ; let them go therefore and consider well what this lesson means, I will have mercy and not sacri- of disafFections, would have men to have a privilege to change their wives or repudiate thera, deserves to be hist at rather than confuted : for nothing can tend more to usher in all confusions throughout the world : therefore that wise-aker deserves of all others to wear a loting horn." p. 19, Letter vii. In the Index he thus refers to Milton's pamphlets on Divorce :— *' Of a noddy that writ a book of wifing !" To this m.ight be added the taunting reply of an anonymous author, to which the pious Caryl prefixed the following. Imprimatur, " An answer to a book, entitled, The Doctrine and Disci- pline of Divorce, or a Plea for Ladies and Gentlewomen, and all other mar- ried Women, against Divorce : wherein both sides are vindicated from all bondage of Canon Law, and other mistakes whatsoever : and the unsound principles of the Author are examined, and fully confuted by authority of Holy Scriptures, the laws of this land and sound reason. — London 1644. "To preserve the strength of the marriage bond, and the honour of that estate, against those sad breaches and dangerous abuses of it, which com- vion discontents (on this side adultery) are likely to make in unstaid minds, and men given to change, by taking in or grounding themselves upon the opinion answered, and with good reason confuted in this treatise, I have sanctioned the printing and publishing of it. — Joseph Caevl. "iVorem&er 14, 1644." LIS-E OF MILTON. ^9 fice; for on that saying, all the law and prophets depend, much more the gospel, whose end and excellence is mercy and peace : or if they cannot learn that, how will they hear this, which yet I shall not doubt to leave with them as a conclusion ? " That God the Son hath put all ^ther things under his own feet, hut his commandments hath he left all under the feet of charity, '^ It may be first inquired, in reply to this plausible state- ment, whether positive commands are to be superseded by moral considerations ; whether the cases were parallel of the Apostles on the Sabbath-day, rubbing out a few grains of wheat in their hands to check the cravings of hunger, or David eating the shew-bread when he was hungry, which was provided specially for the priests ; and Milton having, without assigning any such cause in the conduct of his wife as the Scriptures declare to be sufficient, re- solved to dissolve the marriage union ? — I trow not. His speaking of positive commands, especially of that which concerns marriage as "a petty and subordinate precept," is certainly to have undervalued the wisdom of God in that law ; and his stating that '* the Son of God hath left all his commandments under the feet of charity ;" as if positive commands were to be superseded by convenience, is a sentiment, to say the least of it, so lax and so capable of being abused, that there is no Antinomian licentiousness but may be sanctioned by it, under the name of Christian liberty. According to his reasoning, all other things, in regard to the welfare of the church and the rights of men, the Son of God hath authority to command and control ; but the regulations concerning the duties of marriage, he has left to what every one who calls himself his disciple may keep or not keep, observe or not observe, according as it might agree with what in regard to the husband, not respecting at all the rights of the wife, appears to the 9 90 riFE OP MILTON* party himself to be not duty, but charity. Was not this to say, in effect, " ergo, none but Pharisees will contend that I, John Milton, am not at liberty to repudiate my chaste wife, Mary Milton ; and to marry another, without in my case violating the law of Christ, or committing adultery." If, in this unhappy affair, this greatest of men was not left of God to be proved, as in the case of Hezekiah, "that he might learn what was in his heart," I am greatly mistaken in my view of his conduct. He probably learnt, by a comparison of his wife's three years' absence, with the domestic happiness he enjoyed after her return, that passion and not reason had guided his course ; and lamented, it may be hoped, that anger and resentment, and not forgiveness and forbearance, had so long biassed and governed his mind. I wish I could produce any express declaration from his subsequent writings, to prove that Milton, like " Hezekiah, humbled himself for the pride of his heart ;" for to this vice must be atributed the obstinacy and resentment, which inter- rupted his felicity. The fact is, that Milton had adopted a false principle of argument. He had argued upon the principle of expe- diency in reference to a point of revealed and positive law. And therefore, however specious his reasonings might have appeared to the inconsiderate, they could have had no weight with the judicious ; nor do his sentiments seem to have prevailed to any considerable extent.* * Mr. Todd says, in his life of Milton, p. 52. " Ephraim Pagitt, in his description of Hereticks and Sectaries of that period, mentions the sect of Divorcers, with him who wrote the Treatise on Divorce at their head." My copy of this most ridiculous book, written by " the late minister of St. Edmond's Lumbard Street," is "the sixth edition, whereunto is added the last year, 1661," &c. I cannot find the paragraph quoted by Mr. Todd, but there is the following notice, p. 100, under the head, ' Concerning Divorces :' " Of Independents, -Mr. Milton permits a man to put away his wife upon LIFE OF MILTON. 91 Since writing the above remarks, I have met with the following sentiments of the venerable Bishop Hall, which I give in a note in confirmation of the correctness of the view which I have taken.* his mere pleasure, without any fault in her, but for any dislike, or dispa- rity of nature." *This work is entitled, "Resolutions and Decisions of divers practical cases of Conscience," printed in London, 1649. The bishop enquires, p. 388, " Whether marriage lawfully made, may admit of any cause of di- vorce, save only for the violation of the marriage bed by fornication and adul- tery 7" He answers, ''I have heard too much of, and once saw, a licen- tious pamphlet, throwne abroad in these lawless times, in the defence and encouragement of divorces, (not to be sued out, that solemnity needed not,) but to be arbitrarily given by the disliking husband to his displeasing and unquiet wife — upon this ground principally, that marriage was instituted for the help and comfort of man ; when, therefore, the match proves svich, as that the wife doth but pull downe a side, and by her innate peevishness, and either sullen, or pettish and forward disposition, brings rather discom- fort to her husband, the end of marriage being hereby frustrate, why should it not, saithhe, be in the husband's power (after some unprevailing means of reclaimation be attempted) to procure his own peace and contentment in a fitter match '? ^' Wo is me ! to what a pass is the world come, that a christian pretend- ing to reformation should dare to render so loose a project to the publique. I must seriously professe, when I first did cast my eye upon the front of the booke, 1 supposed some great wit meant to try his skill in the maintainance of this so wild and improbable a paradoxe ; but ere I could have run over some of those too well penned pages, I found the author was in earnest, and meant seriously to contribute this peece of good counsail in way of Refor- mation to the wise and sensible care of superiours. I cannot but blush for our age, wherein so bold a motion hath been, amongst others, admitted to the light : what will all the Christian churches through the world, to whose notice those lines shall come, thinke of our wofull degeneration in these de- plored times, that so uncouth a design should be set on foot among us 7" Quoting Gen, ii. 24, the good bishop says : " Loe, before ever there was father or mother, or sonne in the world, God hath appointed that the bond betwixt husband and wife shall be more strait and indissoluble than betwixt the parent or the child ; and can any man be so unreasonable as to defend it lawful], upon some unkind usages, or thwartness of disposition, for pa- rent to abandon and forsake his child, or the sonne to cast off his parent 7 jnuch less therefore may it be thus betwixt an husband and wife : they tvo 92 LIFE OF MILTON. An extract from a work written against the Baptists hj Dr. Daniel Featly, will show the manner in which the Presbyterians treated Milton, respecting his " Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce." Speaking of what he consi- dered the awful sentiments of the Baptists on the subject of the sole headship of Christ and his church ; that the civil magistrate had no authority in spiritual matters over the conscience ; and that the doctrine of punishing men for conscience sake, was the crying sin of the new Eng- lish churches, he adds, " Witness a treatise on Divorce, in which the bands of marriage are let loose to inordinate lusts, and putting away wives for many other causes? besides that which our Saviour only approveth ; namely^ in case of adultery.-' He then mentions several other pamphlets, besides this of Milton's, which had been re- cently published by the Baptists, to whih denomination he belonged.* are one flesh. Behold here an union of God's making : a man's matched with a shrew : The hone that is fallen to th y lot, that do thou knaw upon ? which would not be, if it were altogether free for him to leave that bone and take another." * The Rev. Dr. Daniel Featley was doubtless well acquainted with th© Baptists. The following account is amusing : — " On October 17, 1641, a famous dispute took place between Dr. Featley and four Baptists, some- where in Southwarkj at which were present Sir John Linthel and many others. The Doctor published his disputation in 1644 ; and tells us in hi» preface, that he coiild hardly dip his pen in any other liquor than that of the juice of gall; it is therefore no wonder it is so full of bitterness. He calls the Baptists, (1,) An idle and sottish sect. (2,) A lying and blasphe- mous sect. (3,) An impure and carnal sect. (4,) A bloody and cruel sect. (5,) A profane and sacrilegious sect. (6,) Describes the fearful judgments of God, inflicted upon the ring-leaders of that sect. This quarto work was entitled, ' The Dippers dipt ; or the Anabaptists ducked and plunged over head and ears, at a disputation in Southwark.' It is pompously dedicated ' To the most noble lords, with the honourable knights, citizens ^nd burgess es, now assembled in parliament.' It is peculiarly gratifying that the Doc_ tor, with all his malignancy, was not able to exhibit,, much less substam- LIFE OP MILTON. 93 The following beautiful sonnet, written just after these scenes of domestic strife had ended, will exhibit the calm- ed state of Milton's mind in regard to correct evangeli- cal sentiments, and the highest exercises of religious feel- ing :— '''on the religious memory of MRS. CATHARINE THOMSON, MT CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED 16 DECEMBER. 1646. ^'' When Faith and Love, which parted from thee never, Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load Of death, call'd life ; which us from life doth sever. Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour, Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; But, as faith pointed with her golden rod, Followed thee up to joy and love for ever. Love led them on, and Faith, who knew them best Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beams And azure wings, that up they flew so dress'd. And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge , who thenceforth bid thee rest. And drink thy fill of pvire immortal streams,'* tiate, any charge against them, except what have been commonly but erro- neously alleged against the Baptists in Germany ; the disturbances atMun- ster being no more the effect of the principles of the Baptists, than the riots of London in 1789 were those of Protestants, or those in Birmingham of Episcopalians." '' The Doctor speaks very contemptuously of his opponents. He calls one of them a ' brewer's clerk :' no doubt this was Mr. Kiffin, who had been an apprentice to the famous republican, John Lilburn, of turbulent memory. He it was, too, it is probable, who is called 'Quartermini, the brewer's clerk,' in the pamphlet published in December, 1641, entitled ' New Preaeh- ers new.' " (History Eng. Bap. Vol. i. p. 164.) Before parting with Dr. Featley, who was a member of " the Assembly of Divines at Westminster," the author hopes he shall be pardoned forgiv- ing one extract from this most vituperating pamphlet. It is from " the Epistle to the Reader ;"— " This^re, [baptism] which in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth, and King James, and our gracious sovereign, [Charles I,] till now was covered m England under the ashes ; or if it broke out at any lime, by the care of the ecclesiastical and civil magistrates, was soon put 9* 94 LIFE OF MILTON". His biographer Toland informs us : " And now both his own father dying, and his wife's relations returning to their several habitations, he revived his academic institu- tion of some young gentlemen, with a design, perhaps, of putting in practice the model of education lately publish- ed by himself; yet this course was of no long continuance, for he was to have been, in 1647, made adjutant-general to Sir William Waller, but that the new modelling of the army soon following, and Sir William turning cat-in- pan, this design was frustrated." The same historian says : " A little after Fairfax and Cromwell had marched through the city with the whole army, to quell the insurrection of Brown and Massy, [who were] now grown discontented likewise with the par- out. But of late, since the unhappy distractions which our sins have brou^W upon usj the temporal sword being otherwise employed, and the spiritual fast locked up in the scabbard, this sect, among others, hath so far presumed upon the patience of the state, that it hath held weekly conventicles, re-bap- tized hundreds of men and v/omen together, in the twilight, in rivulets, and some arms of the Thames, and elsewhere, dippmg them over head and ears. It hath printed divers pamphlets in defence of their heresy; yea, and chal" lenged some of our preachers to dispvitation. Now, although my bent hath been always hitherto against the most dangerous enemies of our church and state, the Jesuits, to extinguish such balls of wild-fire, as they have cast into the bosom of our [Presbyterian] church ; yet seeing this strange fire kindled in the neighbouring parishes, and many Nadabs and Abihus offering it on God's altar, I thought it my duty to cast upon it the water of Siloam to ex- tinguish it.'' No one could have possibly guessed that the irritated Doc- tor's pamphlet was waier, much less pure water, had he not himself called it bo! In my copy, one of the sixth edition, there is an engraved frontis- piece, in which he is represented as dead, and laid out in his winding-sheet, and his epitaph dated 1645, with plenty of Greek and Latin ! Six editions of this quarto, of 258 pages, sold in six years ! ! So great and universal was the prejudice against the 'the Sect of Baptists' then, as long since, and still, every where spoken against! But as the devil is represented in the picture of the Reformers, puffing at a lighted candle, and saying, "We cannot blovr it out !" so Dr. Daniel Fcatley, with his "many waters," could not quench " this^re." LIFE OF MILTON. 95 liament, [in December, 1648,] our hero changed his gar- ret for one more accommodated to his circumstances, where, in the midst of all the noise and confusion of arms, he led a quiet and private life, wholly delighted with the muses, and prosecuting his indefatigable search after use- ful and solid knowledge." The following lines refer to this period. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITT> " Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms, Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If deed of honour did thee ever please, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee ; for he knows the charms That call fame on such gentle acts as these. And he can spread thy name o'er land and seas, Whatever clime the suns bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muse's bower: The great Emathian conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower Went to the ground : Arid the repeated air Of sad Electra's poet had the power To save the Athenian walla from ruin bare." We are now arrived at the period when Milton was called upon to fill the honourable office of Latin secretary to the council of state, to which he had been called soon after the death of the king.* This public mark of respect from the republican government, for a man who had hith- erto been the object of affected scorn, a mere schoolmaster in the estimation, first of the prelates, and then of the NEW priests writ LARGE ! must havc been very galling, and exceedingly mortifying to their narrow and contrac ted souls. That he who, through their bigotry, had been •■ ♦ He now removed to a lodging in the house of one Thompson, at Charing Cross ; and afterwards to apartments provided for him in Scotland Yard : here his wife gave birth to a son, who died 16th of March, 1650. 96 tiFE OF MILTON. cited to appear before the House of Lords, to give an a if there be any that survive so many slaughters and ca- lamities. For our parts we have written to the Duke of Savoy, beseeching him to remove his infenced anger froms his subjects ; as also to the king of France, that he would LIFE OF MILTON. ]77 vouchsafe to do the same ; and lastly to the princes of the Reformed Religion, to the end they might understand our sentiments concerning so fell and savage a piece of cru- elty. Which though first begun upon those poor and help- less people, however threatens all that profess the same Religion, and therefore imposes upon all a greater neces- sity of providing for themselves in general, and consult- ing the common safety ; which is the course that we shall always follow, as God shall be pleased to direct us. Of which your Highness may be assured, as also of our sin- cerity, and affection to your Serenity, whereby we are engaged to wish all prosperous success to your affairs, and a happy issue of all your enterprises and endeavours, in asserting the liberty of the gospel and the worshippers of it. " Whitehall, May, 1655. " Oliver, Protector, to the most Serene Prince, Charles GusTAvrs Adolphus, King of the Swedes, greeting. *' We make no question but that the fame of that most rigid Edict has reached your dominions, whereby the Duke of Savoy has totally ruined his Protestant sub- jects inhabiting the Alpine valleys, and commanded them to be extirminated from their native seats and habitations unless they will give security to renounce their religion received from their forefathers, in exchange for the Ro- man catholick superstition, and that within twenty days at farthest ; so that many being killed, the rest stripped to their skins and exposed to most certain destruction, are now forced to wander over desert mountains and through *16 178 LIFE OF MILTON. perpetual winter, together with their wives and children, half dead with cold and hunger ; and that your Majesty- has laid it to heart with a pious sorrow and compassionate consideration we as little doubt. For that the Protestant name and cause, although they differ among themselves in some things of little consequence, is nevertheless the same in general and united in one common interest, the hatred of our adversaries, alike infenced against Protes- tants, very easily demonstrates. Now there is nobody can be ignorant, that the kings of the Swedes have always joyned with the Reformed, carrying their victorious arms into Germany in defence of the protestants without distinc- tion. Therefore we make it our chief request, and that in a more especial manner to your Majesty, that you would solicit the Duke of Savoy by letters, and by interposing your intermediating authority, endeavour to avert the hor- rid cruelty of this Edict, if possible, from people no less innocent than rehgious. For we think it superfluous to admonish yom- Majesty, whither these rigourous begin- nings tend, and what they threaten to all the Protestants in general. But if he rather chuse to listen to his anger than to our joynt intreaties and intercessions, if there be any tye, any charity or communion of religion to be be- lieved and worshipped, upon consultations duly first com- municated to your Majesty and the chief of the Protestant princes, some other course is to be speedily taken, that such a numerous multitude of our innocent brethren may not miserably perish for want of succour and assistance. Which in regard we make no question but that it is your Majesties opinion and determination, there can be nothing in our opinion more prudently resolved, then to joyn our reputation, authority, councels, forces, and whatever else is needful, with all the speed that may be, in pursuance of so pious a design. In the mean time we beseech Almighty God to bless your Majesty." LIFE OF MILTON. 179 " Oliver, Protector, &;c. to the High and Mighty Lords, the States of the United Provinces. " We make no question but that you have already bin informed of the Duke of Savoy^s Edict, set forth against his subjects inhabiting the valleys at the feet of the Alps, ancient professors of the orthodox faith ; by which Edict they are commanded to abandon their native habitations, stript of all their fortunes, unless within twenty days they embrace the Roman Faith ; and . with what cruelty the authority of this Edict has raged against a needy and harmless people ; many being slain by the soldiers, the rest plundered and driven from their houses, together with their wives and children, to combat cold and hunger among desert mountains, and perpetual snow. These things with what commotion of mind you heard re- lated, what a fellow-feeling of the calamities of brethren pierced your breasts, we readily conjecture from the depth of our own sorrow, which certainly is most heavy and afflictive. For being engaged together by the same type of Religion, no wonder we should be so deeply moved with the sanie affections upon the dreadful and undeserved sufferings of our brethren. Besides, that your conspicuous piety and charity toward the orthodox, wherever overborn and oppressed, has bin frequently ex- perienced in the most urging streights and calamities of the churches. For my own part, unless my thoughts de- ceive me, there is nothing wherein I should desire more willingly to be overcome, then in good-will and charity to- vv^ard brethren of the same religion afflicted and wronged in their quiet enjoyments ; as being one that would be ac- counted always ready to prefer the peace and safety of the churches before my particular interests. So far 180 LIFE OF MILTON. therefore as hitherto lay in our power, we have written to the duke of Savoy, even almost to supplication, beseech- ing him that he would admit into his breast more placid thoughts and kinder effects of his favour towards his most innocent subjects and suppUants ; that he would restore the miserable to their habitations and estates, and grant 'em their pristin freedom in the exercise of their religion. Moreover, we wrote to the chiefest princes and magis- trates of the ProtestantSj whom we thought most nearly concerned in these matters, that they would lend us their assistance to entreat and pacify the duke of Savoy in their behalf. And we make no doubt now but you have done the same and perhaps much more. For this so danger- ous a president, and lately renewed severity of utmost cruelty toward the Reformed, if the authors of it meet with prosperous success, to what apparent dangers it re- duces our religion, we need not admonish your prudence. On the other side, if the duke shall once but permit him- self to be atoned and won by our united applications, not onely our afflicted brethren, but we ourselves shall reap the noble abounding harvest, and reward of this laborious undertaking. But if he still persist in the same obstinate resolutions of reducing to utmost extremity those people, among whom our religion was either disseminated by the first doctors of the gospel, and preserved from the defile- ment of Superstition, or else restored to its pristin sinceri- ty long before other nations obtained that felicity ; and determins their utter extirpation and destruction ; we are ready to take such other course and counsels with yourselves, in common with the rest of our Reformed friends and confederates, as may be most necessary for the preservation of just and good men upon the brink of inevitable ruin, and to make the duke himself sensible, that we can no longer neglect the heavy oppressions and calamities of our orthodox brethren. Farewel." LIFE OF MILTON. 181 " To the Evangelick Cities of Switzerland. " We make no question but the late calamity of the Piemontois, professing our religion, reached your ears, before the unwelcome news of it arrived with us. Who being a people under the protection and jurisdiction of the Duke of Savoy, and by a severe Edict of their prince commanded to depart their native habitations, unless within three days they gave security to embrace the Ro- man Religion, soon after were assailed by armed vio- lence, that turned their dwellings into slaughter-houses, while others without number, were terrified into banish- ment, where now naked and afflicted, without house or home, or any covering from the weather, and ready to perish through hunger and cold, they miserably wander through desert mountains, and depths of snow, together with their wives and children. And far less reason have we to doubt, but that, so soon as they came to your knowledge, you laid these things to heart, with a com- passion no less sensible of their multiplied miseries, than ourselves ; the more deeply imprinted perhaps in your minds, as being next neighbours to the sufferers. Be- sides, that we have abundant proof of your singular love and affection for the orthodox faith, of your constancy in retaining it, and] your fortitude in defending it. Seeing then, by the most strict communion of Religion, that you, together with ourselves, are all brethren alike, or rather one body with those unfortunate people, of which no mem- ber can be afflicted without the feeling, without pain, without the detriment and hazard of the rest ; we thought it convenient to write to your Lordships concerning this matter, and let you understand, how much we believe it to be the general interest of us all, as much as in us Ues^ 182 LIFE OF MILTON. with our common aid and succour, to relieve our extir- minated and indigent brethren ; and not only to take care for removing their miseries and afflictions, but also to provide, that the mischief spread no farther, nor incroach upon ourselves in general, encouraged by example and success. We have written letters to the Duke of Savoy, wherein we have most earnestly besought him out of his wonted clemency, to deal more gently and mildly with his most faithful subjects, and to restore them, almost ruined as they are, to their goods and habitations. And we are in hopes, that by these our intreaties, or rather by the united intercessions of us all, the most Serene Prince at length will be atoned, and grant what we have re- quested with so much importunity. But if his mind be obstinately bent to other determinations, we are ready to communicate our consultations with yours, by what most prevalent means to relieve and re-establish most innocent men, and our most dearly beloved brethren in Christ, tormented and overlaid with so many wrongs and oppres- sions : and preserve 'era from inevitable and undeserved ruin. Of whose welfare and safety, as I am assured, that you according to your wonted piety, are most cordially tender, so, for our own parts, we cannot but in our opin- ion prefer their preservation before our most important Interests, even the safeguard of our own life. Farewel. O. P. " Superscribed, To the most illustrious and potent Lords, the Con- suls and Senators of the Protestant Cantons and Confederate Cities of Switzerland, greeting : " Westminster, May 19, 1655." LIFE OF MILTON. 183 " To the most Serene arid Potent Prince, Lewis, King of France. " Most Serene and Potent King, " By your Majesty's letters which you wrote in answer to ours of the 25th o( May, we readily understand, that we failed not in our judgment, that the inhuman Slaughter and barbarous massacres of those men, who profess the Reformed Religion in Savoy, perpetrated by some of your regiments, were the effects neither of your orders nor commands. And it afforded us a singular oc- casion of joy, to hear that your Majesty had so timely signified to your collonels and officers, whose violent pre- cipitancy engaged 'em in those inhuman butcheries with- out the encouragement of lawful allowance, how dis- pleasing they were to your Majesty ; that you had admo- nished the Duke himself to forbear such acts of cruelty ; and that you had interposed with so much fidelity and humanity, all the high veneration paid you in that court, your near alliance and authority, for restoring to their ancient abodes those unfortunate exiles. And it was our hopes, that that Prince would in some measure have con- descended to the good pleasure and intercession of your Majesty. But finding not any thing obtained either by your own, nor the intreaties and i'mportunities of other Princes in the cause of the distressed, we deemed it not foreign from our duty, to send this noble person, under the character of our extraordinary envoy, to the DtiJce of Savoy, more amply and fully to lay before him, how deep- ly sensible we are of such exasperated cruelties inflicted upon the professors of the same Religion with ourselves, and all this too out of a hatred of the same worship. And we have reason to hope a success of this negotiation so 184 LIFE OF MILTON. much the more prosperous, if your Majesty would vouch- safe to employ your authority and assistance once again with so much the more urgent importunity ; and as you have undertaken for those indigent people that they will be faithful and obedient to their Prince, so you would be gratiously pleased to take care of their welfare and safety, that no farther oppressions of this nature, no more such dismal calamities may be the portion of the innocent and peaceful. This being truly loyal and just in itself, and highly agreeable to your benignity and clemency, which every where protects in soft security so many of your sub- jects professing the same Religion, we cannot but expect, as it behoves us, from your Majesty. Which act of yours, as it will more closely bind to your subjection all the Pro- testants throughout your spacious dominions, whose affec- tion and fidelity to your predecessors and yourself in most important distresses have bin often conspicuously made knoimi ; so will it fully convince all foreign Princes, that the advice or intention of your Majesty were no way contributory to this prodigious violence, whatever inflam- ed your ministers and officers to promote it. More espe- cially, if your Majesty shall inflict deserved punishment upon those captains and ministers, who of their own au- thority, and to gratifie their own wills, adventured the per- petrating such dreadful acts of inhumanity. In the mean while, since your Maj'esty has assured us of your justly merited aversion to these most inhuman and cruel pro- ceedings, we doubt not but you will aflbrd a secure sanc- tuary and shelter within your kingdom to all those mise- rable exiles that shall flye to your Majesty for protection ; and that you will not give permission to any of your sub- jects to assist the Duke of Savoy to their prejudice. It remains that we make known to your Majesty, how highly we esteem and value your friendship : in testimony of LIFE OF MILTON. 185 whichjwe farther affirm there shall never be wanting upon all occasions the real assurances and effects of our pro- testation. ** Your Majesty's most affectionate, Oliver, Protector of the Com- monwealth of England, &c. *' Whitehall, July 29, 1655." " To the most eminent Lord, Cardinal Mazarine, " Most Eminent Lord Cardinal, " Having deemed it necessary to send this noble person to the king with letters, a copy of which is here enclosed, we gave him also farther in charge to salute your excellency in our name, as having entrusted to his fidelity certain other matters to be communicated to your eminency. In reference to which affairs, I entreat your eminency, to give him entire credit, as being a person in whom I have reposed a more than ordinary confidence. " Your eminencies most affectionate Oliver, Protector of the Com- monwealth of England. " JVhUehaU, July 29, 1655." " Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, to the most Serene Prince, Frederick TIL King of of Danemark, Norway, &;c. "With what a severe and unmerciful Edict, Tmma nuel, Duke of Savoy, has expelled from their native 17 186 I-IFE OF MILTON. seats his subjects inhabiting the valleys of Piemont, men otherwise harmless, onely for many years remarkably fa- mous for embracing the purity of religion ; and after a dreadful slaughter of some numbers, how he has exposed the rest to the hardships of those desert mountains, stript to their skins, and barred from all relief, we believe your Majesty has long since heard, and doubt not but that your Majesty is touched with a real commiseration of their sufferings, as becomes so puissant a defender and prince of the Reformed Faith. For indeed, the institutions of the Christian religion require, that whatever mischiefs and miseries any part of us undergo, it should behove us all to be deeply sensible of the same : nor does any man better than your Majesty foresee, if we may be thought able to give a right conjecture of your piety and prudence, what dangers the success and example of this fact portend to ourselves in particular, and to the whole Protestant name in general. We have written the more willingly to your- self, to the end we might assure your Majesty, that the same sorrow which we hope you have conceived for the calamity of our most innocent brethren, the same opinion, the same judgment you have of the whole matter, is plainly and sincerely our own. We have therefore sent our letters to the Duke of Savoy, wherein we have most importunately besought him to spare those miserable peo- pie that implore his mercy, and that he would no longer suffer that dreadful Edict to be in force. Which if your Majesty and the rest of the Reformed Princes would vouchsafe to do, as we are apt to believe they have alrea- dy done, there is some hope that the anger of the most Serene Duke may be asswaged, and that his indignation will relent upon the intercession and importunities of his neighbour princes. Or if he persist in his determinations, we protest ourselves ready, together with your Majesty, LIFE OF MILTON. 187 and the rest of our confederates of the Reformed Reli- gion, to take such speedy methods as may enable us, as far as in us lies, to relieve the distresses of so many mis- erable creatures, and provide for their liberty and safety. In the mean time, vi^e beseech Almighty God to bless your Majesty with all prosperity. "Your Majesty's good friend, Oliver, P. " Given at our Palace at Westminster, this 25tli of May, in the year of our Lord 1655. " Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &;c. to the most Noble the Consuls and Senators of the City of Geneva. " We have before made known to your Lordships our excessive sorrow for the heavy and unheard-of calam- ities of the Protestants inhabiting the Valleys of Pie- mont, whom the Duke of Savoy persecutes with so much cruelty, but that we made it our business that you should at the same time understand, that we are not onely affect- ed with the multitude of their sufferings, but are using the utmost of our endeavours to relieve and comfort 'em in their distresses. To that purpose we have taken care for a gathering of alms to be made throughout this whole Republick ; which upon good grounds we expect will be such, as will demonstrate the affection of this nation toward their brethren labouring under the burthen of such horrid inhumanities ; and that as the communion of religion is the same between both people, so the sense of their calamities is no less the same. In the mean time, while the collections of the money go forward, which in regard they will require some time to accomplish, and for 188 LIFE OF MILTON. that the wants and necessities of those deplorable people will admit of no delay, we thought it requisite to remit be- forehand two thousand pounds of the value of England, with all possible speed to be distributed among such as shall be judged to be most in present need of comfort and succour. Now in regard we are not ignorant how deeply the miseries and wrongs of those most innocent people have affected yourselves, and that you will not think amiss of any labour or pains where you can be assisting to their relief, we made no scruple to commit the paying and dis- tributing this sum of money to your care ; and to give ye this farther trouble, that according to your wonted piety and prudence, you would take care that the said money may be distributed equally to the most necessitous, to the end, that though the sum be small, yet there may be some- thing to refresh and revive the most poor and needy, till we can afford 'em a more plentiful supply. And thus, not making any doubt but you will take in good part the trouble imposed upon ye, we beseech Almighty God to stir up the hearts of all his people professing the orthodox religion, to resolve upon the common defence of them- selves, and the mutual assistance of each other against their imbittered and most implacable enemies : in the prosecution of which we should rejoyce that our helping hand might be any way serviceable to the church. — Farewel. " Fifteen hundred younds of the foresaid two thousand will he remitted by Gerard Hencii from Paris, and the other five hundred pounds will be taken care of by letters from the Lord Stoup. "June 8, 1655.'^ LIFE OF MILTON. 189 *' To the Evangelic Cities of Switzerland. " In what condition your affairs are, which is not the best, we are abundantly informed, as well by your public acts transmitted to us by our agent at Geneva, as also by your letters from Zurich, bearing date the 21th of December, Whereby, although we are sorry to find your peace, and such a lasting league of confederacy broken ; nevertheless, since it appears to have happened through no fault of yours, we are in hopes that the iniquity and perverseness of your adversaries are contriving new occasions for ye to make known your long-ago experi- enced fortitude and resolution in defence of the Evangel- ick faith. For as for those of the Canton of Schwits, who account it a capital crime for any person to embrace our religion, what they are might and main designing, and whose instigations have incensed 'em to resolutions of hostility against the orthodox religion, nobody can be ig- norant, who has not yet forgot that most detestable slaugh- ter of our brethren in Piemont, Wherefore, most beloved friends, what you were always wont to be, with God's as- sistance still continue, magnanimous and resolute ; suffer not your privileges, your confederacies, the liberty of your consciences, your religion itself, to be trampled under foot by the worshippers of idols ; and so prepare yourselves, that you may not seem to be the defenders onely of your own freedom and safety, but be ready like- wise to aid and succour, as far as in you lies, your neigh- boring brethren, more especially those most deplorable Piedmontois ; as being certainly convinced of this, that a passage was lately intended to have bin opened over their slaughtered bodies to your sides. As for our part, be as- sured, that we are no less anxious and solicitous for your welfare and prosperity, than if this conflagration had 17* 190 LIFE OF MILTON. broken forth in our Republick ; or as if the axes of the Schwits.Cantons had bin sharpened for our necks, or that their swords had bin drawn against our breasts, as indeed they were against the i)Osoms of all the Reformed. — Therefore, so soon as we were informed of the condition of your affairs, and the obstinate animosities of your ene- mies, advising with some sincere and honest persons, to- gether with some ministers of the church most eminent for their piety, about sending to your assistance such suc- cour as the present posture of our aftairs would permit, we came to those results, which our envoy Pell will im- part to your consideration. In the mean time, we cease not to implore tlie blessing of the Almighty upon all your counsels, and the protection of your most just cause as well in war as in peace. " Your Lordships and Worships most afTectionate, Oliver, Procector of the Commonweahh of Ekgland, &c. " Westminster, Jan. 1655." " Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &c, to the most Serene Prince Charles Gustavus, by the Grace of God King of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, Great Prince of Finland, &c. " Most Serene King, " Seeing it is a thing well known to all men, that there ought to be a communication of concerns among friends, whether in prosperity or adversity ; it cannot be but most grateful to us, that your Majesty should vouch- safe to impart unto us by your letters the most pleasing and delightful part of your friendship, which is your joy. In regard it is a mark of singular civility, and truly royal, LIFE OF MILTON. Wl as not to live onely to a man's self, so neither to rejoyce alone, unless he be sensible that his friends and confede- rates partake of his gladness. Certainly then, we have reason to rejoyce for the birth of a young prince born to such an excellent king, and sent into the world to be the heir of his father's glory and Vertue ; and this at such a lucky season, that we have no less cause to congratulate the royal parent with the memorable omen that befel the famous Philip of Macedon, who at the same time received the tydings of Alexander's birth, and the conquest of the Illyrians. For we make no question, but the wresting of the kingdom of Poland from Papal subjection, as it were a horn dismembered from the head of the Beast, and the peace so much desired by all good men, concluded with the Duke of Brandenhurgh, will be most highly conducing to the tranquillity and advantage of the church. Heaven grant a conclusion correspondent to such signal begin- nings ; and may the son be like the father in vertue, piety, and renown, obtained by great atchievments. Which is that we wish may luckily come to pass, and which we beg of the Almighty, so propitious hitherto to your affairs. " Your Majesty's most affectionate Oliver, Protector of the Com- monwealth of England, &c. " Westminster, February, 1655." " Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, djc, to the most High and Mighty Lords, the States of the United Provinces. " Most High and Mighty Lords, our dear Friends AND Confederates. " We make no doubt, but that all men will bear us this testimony, That no considerations, in contracting 19Q LIFE OF MILTON. foreign alliances, ever swayed us beyond those of defend- ing the truths of religion, or that we accounted any thing more sacred, than to unite the minds of all the friends and protectors of the Protestants, and of all others, who at least were not their enemies. Whence it comes to pass, that we are touched with so much the more grief of mind, to hear that the Protestant princes and cities, whom it so much behoves to live in friendship and con- cord together, should begin to be so jealous of each other, and so ill disposed to mutual affection ; more espe- cially, that your lordships and the king of Sweden, then whom the orthodox faith has not more magnanimous and couragious defenders, nor our republick confederates more strictly conjoyned in interests, should seem to remit of your confidence in each other ; or rather, that there should appear some too signs of tottering friendship and growing discord between ye. What the causes are, and what progress this alienation of your affection has made, we protest ourselves to be altogether ignorant. Howe- ver, we cannot but conceive an extraordinary trouble of mind for these beginnings of the least dissention arisen among brethren, which infallibly must greatly endanger the Protestant interests. Which if they should gather strength, how prejudicial it would prove to the Protestant churches, what an occasion of triumph it would afford our enemies, and more especially the Spaniards, cannot be unknown to your prudence, and most industrious ex- perience of affairs. As for the Spaniards, it has already so enlivened their confidence, and raised their courage, that they made no scruple by their embassador residing in your territories, boldly to obtrude their counsels upon your lordships, and that in reference to the highest con. cerns of your republick ; presuming partly with threats of renewing the war, to terrific, and partly with a false LIFE OF MILTON. 193 prospect of advantage, to solicit your lordships to forsake your ancient and most faithful friends the English, French, and Danes, and enter into a strict confederacy with your old enemy and once your domineering tyrant, now seem- ingly attoned, but what is most to be feared, only at pre- sent treacherously fawning to advance his own designs. Certainly he, who of an inveterate enemy, lays hold of so slight an occasion of a sudden to become your coun- sellor, what is it that he would not take upon him ? Where would his insolency stop, if once he could but see with his eyes, what now he onely ruminates and labours in his thoughts ; that is to say, division and a civil war among the Protestants ? We are not ignorant, that your lordships, out of your deep wisdom, frequently revolve in your minds what the posture of all Europe is, and what more especially the condition of the Protestants : that the cantons of Switzerland adhering to the orthodox faith, are in daily expectation of new troubles to be raised by their countryemen embracing the popish ceremonies ; scarcely recovered from that war which for the sake of religion was kindled and blown up by the Spaniards, who supplied their enemies both with commanders and money : that the councils of the Spaniards are still con- triving to continue the slaughter and destruction of the Piemontois, which was cruelly put in execution the last year : that the Protestants under the jurisdiction of the emperor are most grievously harassed, having much ado to keep possession of their native homes : that the king of Sweden, whom God, as we hope, has raised up to be a most stout defender of the orthodox faith, is at present waging with all the force of his kingdom a doubtful and bloody war with the most potent enemies of the reformed religion ; that your own provinces are threatened with hostile confederacies of the princes your neighbours^ 194 LIFE OF MILTON. headed by the Spaniards; and lastly, that we ourselves are busied in a war proclaimed against the king of Spain. In this posture of affairs, if any contest should happen between Vour lordships and the king of Sweden, how miserable would be the condition of all the reformed churches over all Europe, exposed to the cruelty and fury of unsanctified enemies. These cares not slightly seize us ; and we hope your sentiments to be the same ; and that out of your continued zeal for the common cause of the Protestants, and to the end the present peace be- tween brethren professing the same faith, the same hope of eternity, may be preserved inviolable, your lordships will accommodate your counsels to these considerations, which are to be preferred before all others ; and that you will leave nothing neglected that may conduce to the es- tablishing tranquillity and union between your lordships and the king of Sweden. Wherein if we can any way be useful, as far as our authority, and the favour you bear us will sway with your lordships, we freely offer our ut- most assistance, prepared in like manner to be no less serviceable to the king of Sweden, to whom we design a speedy embassie, to the end we may declare our senti- ments at large concerning these matters. We hope, moreover, that God will bend your minds on both sides to moderate counsels, and so restrain your animosities, that no provocation may be given either by the one or the other, to fester your differences to extremity : but that on the other side both parties will remove whatever may give offence, or occasion of jealousie to the other. Which if you shall vouchsafe to do, you will disappoint your enemies, prove the consolation of your friends, and in the best manner provide for the welfare of your repub- lick. And this we beseech you to be fully convinced of, that we shall use our utmost care to make appear, upoiv LIFE OF MILTON. 195 all occasions, our extraordinary affection and good-will to the states of the United Provinces, And so we most earnestly implore the Almighty God to perpetuate his blessings of peace, wealth, and liberty upon your repub- lick, but above all things to preserve it always flourish- ing in the love of the christian faith, and the true worship of his name. " Your high and mightinesses most affectionate, Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &c. " Prom our Palace at Westminster, August, 1656." "Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &c. to the most Serene Prince Charles Gustavus, king of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, &c. *'MosT Serene King, our dearest Friend and Con- federate. " Being assured of your Majesty's concurrence both in thoughts and counsels, for the defence of the Pro- testant faith against the enemies of it, if ever, now at this time, most dangerously vexatious, though we cannot but rejoyce at your prosperous successes, and the daily tidings of your victories, yet on the other side we cannot but be as deeply afflicted to meet with one thing that disturbs and interrupts our joy ; we mean, the bad news, intermix- ed with so many welcome tydings, that the ancient friend- ship between your majesty, and the States of the United Provinces, looks with a dubious aspect, and that the mis- chief is exasperated to that heighth, especially in the Bal- tick Sea, as seems to bode an unhappy rupture. We con- fess ourselves ignorant of the causes ; but we too easily foresee that the events, which God avert, will be fatal to 196 LIFE OF MILTON. the interests of the Protestants. And therefore, as well in respect to that most strict alliance between us and your Majesty, as out of that affection and love to the reformed religion, by which we all of us ought chiefly to be swai'd, we thought it our duty, as we have most earnestly ex- horted the States of the United Provinces to peace and moderation, so now to perswade your Majesty to the same. The Protestants have enemies every where enow and to spare, inflamed with inexorable revenge ; they never were known to have conspired more perniciously to our de- struction, witness the valleys o£ Piemont, still reaking with the blood and slaughter of the miserable ; witness Austria, lately turmoiled with the emperor's Edicts and proscrip- tions ; witness Switzerland ; but to what purpose is it in many words to call back the bitter lamentations and re- membrance of so many calamities ? Who so ignorant, as not to know that the counsels of the Spaniards and the Roman Pontiff, for these two years have filled all these places with conflagrations, slaughter, and vexation of the orthodox. If to these mischiefs there should happen an access of dissention among Protestant brethren, more es- pecially between two potent states, upon whose courage, wealth, and fortitude, so far as human strength may be relied upon, the support and hopes of all the reformed churches depend, of necessity the Protestant religion must be in great jeopardy, if not upon the brink of de- struction. On the other side, if the whole Protestant name would but observe perpetual peace among them- selves with that same brotherly union as becomes their profession, there would be no occasion to fear what all the artifices or puissance of our enemies could do to hurt us, which our fraternal concord and harmony alone would easily repel and frustrate. And therefore we most ear- nestly request and beseech your majesty to harbour in LIFE OF MILTON. 197 your mind propitious thoughts of peace, and inclinations ready bent to repair the breaches of your pristin friend, ship with the United Provinces, if in any part it may have accidentally suffered the decays of mistakes or miscon- struction. If there be any thing wherein our labour, our fidelity and diligence may be useful toward this compo- sure, we offer and devote all to j^our service. And may the God of Heaven favour and prosper your noble and pious resolutions, which together with all felicity, and a perpetual course of victory, we cordially wish to your Majesty. '* Your Majesty's most affectionate, Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &c. " jFrorn. our Palace at Westminster, Au^-iist, 1656." " Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, ienhorst. '^' Most Serene Prince our dearest Friend, " Collonel William Jepson, a person truly noble in his countrey, and a senator in our parlament, is sent by us as our envoy extraordinary to the most Serene King of Sweden ; and may it prove happy and prosperous for the common peace and interests of Christendome. We have given him instructions among other things, that in his journey, after he has kissed your Serenities hands in our name, and declared our former good-will and constant zeal for your welfare, to request of your Serenity also, that being guarded with your authority, he may travel with safety and convenience through your territories. By which kind act of civility your highness will in a greater measure oblige us to returns of answerable kindness ^'-Frorti our Court at Westminster, August. 1657," *' Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, &c. To the most Serene Prince, the Lord Frederick William, Marquis of Brandenburgh, &;c. " Most Serene Prince, our most dear Friend and Confederate. " By our last letters to your highness, either al- ready or shortly to be delivered by our embassador Wih Ham Jepson, we have imparted the substance of our em- LIFE OF MILTONo 205 bassy to your highness, which we could not do without some mention of your great vertues, and demonstration of our own good will and affection. Nevertheless, that we may not seem too superficially to have glided over your transcendant deservings of the Protestant interests, we thought it proper to resume the same subject, and pay our respect and veneration, not more wilHngly, or with a greater fervency of mind, but somewhat more at large, to your highness. And truly most deservedly, when daily information reaches our eyes, that your faith and con- science, by all manner of artifices tempted and assaiiedj by all manner of arts and devices solicited, yet cannot be shaken, or by any violence be rent from your friendship and alliance with a most magnanimous Prince and your Confederate : and this, when the affairs of the Swedes are now reduced to that condition, that in adhering to their alliance, 'tis manifest that your highness rather con- suits the common cause of the Reformed religion, then your own advantage. And when your highness is almost surrounded and besieged by enemies, either privately lurk- ing or almost at your gates ; yet such is your constancy and resolution of mind, such your conduct and prowess becoming a great general, that the burthen and massy bulk of the whole affair, and the event of this important war, seems to rest and depend upon your sole determina- tion. Wherefore your highness has no reason to ques- tion but that you may rely upon our friendship and un- feigned affection ; who should think ourselves worthy to be forsaken of all men's good word, should we seem careless in the least of your unblemished fidelity, your constancy, and the rest of your applauded vertues, or should we pay less respect to your highness upon the common score of religion. As to those matters pro- pounded by the most accomplished John Frederic Schkver^ 206 LIFE OP MILTON. your counsellor and agent here residing, if hitherto we could not return an answer, such as we desired to do, though with all assiduity and diligence laboured by your agent ; we intreat your highness to impute it to the pre- sent condition of our affairs, and to be assured, that there is nothing which we account more sacred, or more ear- nestly desire, than to be servicable and assisting to your interests, so bound up with the cause of religion. In the mean time we beseech the God of mercy and power, that so signal a prowess and fortitude may never languish or be oppressed, nor be deprived the fruit and due applause of all your pious undertakings. " Your Highness's most affectionate, Oliver, Protector of the Com- monwealth of En gland, &c. '''From our Court at Westminster, September, 1657." " To the most Serene and Potent Prince Lewis, king of France. "^ Most Serene and Potent King, and mos^t x\ugust Friend and Confederate. " Your Majesty may call to mind, that at the same time, when the renewing the league between us was in agitation, and no less auspiciously concluded, as the many advantages from thence accrewing to both na- tions, and the many annoyances thence attending the common enemy, sufficiently testify, those dreadful butch- eries befel the Piemontois, and that we recommended with great fervency of mind and compassion, their cause LIFE OF MILTON. 207 biiali sides forsaken and afflicted, to your commiseration and Protection. Nor do we believe, that your Majesty, of yourself, was wanting in a duty so pious, that we may not say, beseeming common humanity, as far as your au- thority, and the veneration due to your person, could pre- vail with the duke of Savoy, Certain we are, that nei- ther ourselves, nor many other princes and cities were wanting in our performances, by the interposition of em- bassies, letters, and intreaties. After a most bloody butch- ery of both sexes and all ages, at length peace was granted, or rather a certain clandestine hostility covered over with the name of peace. The conditions of peace were agreed in your town of Pignerol; severe and hard ; but such, as those miserable and indigent creatures, after they had suffered all that could be endured that was op- pressive and barbarous, would have been glad of, had they been but observed, as hard and unjust as they were. But by false constructions, and various evasions, the as- surances of all these articles are eluded and violated : many are thrust out from their ancient abodes ; many are forbid the exercise of their religion ; new tributes are ex- acted ; a new citadel is imposed upon them ; from v/hence the soldiers frequently making excursions, either plunder or murder all they meet. Add to all this, that new levies are privately preparing against them ; and all that embrace the Protestant religion are commanded to depart by a prefixed day; so that all things seems to threaten the utter extirmination of those deplorable wretch- es, whom the former massaker spared. Which I most earnestly beseech and conjure ye, most christian King, by that RIGHT HAND, which signed the league and friendship between us, by that same goodly ornament of your title of MOST CHRISTIAN, by no means to suf- fer ; nor to permit such liberty of rage and fury uncon- 208 LIFE OF MILTON. trouled, we will not say, in any prince, (for certainly sucu barbarous severity could never enter the breast of any prince, much less so tender in years, nor into the female thoughts of his mother,) but in those sanctified cut-throats, who professing themselves to be the servants and disci- ples of our Saviour Christ, who came into this world to save sinners, abuse his meek and peaceful name and precepts to the most cruel slaughter of the innocent. Rescue you that are able, in your towring station worthy to be able, rescue so many suppliants prostrate at your fee I, from the hands of ruffians, who lately drunk with blood, again thirst after it, and think it their safest way to throw the odium of their cruelty upon princes. But as for you, great prince, suffer not, while you reign, your ti- tles, nor the confines of your kingdom, to be contamina- ted with this same heaven-offending scandal, nor the peaceful gospel of Christ to be defiled with such abomin- able cruelty. Remember that they submitted themselves to your grandfather Henry, most friendly to the Protest- ants, when the victorious Lesdiguieres pursued the re- treating Savoyard o're the Alpes. There is also an in- strument of that submission registered among the publick acts of your kingdom, wherein it is excepted and provi- ded among other things : That from that time forward the Piemonlois should not be delivered over into the power of any ruler, but upon the same conditions upon which your invincible grandfather received them into his protection This protection of your grandfather, these suppliants now implore from you as grandchild. 'Tis your Majesty's par to whom those people now belong, to give 'em that protec tion which they have chosen, by some exchange of habita tion, if they desire it, and it may be done : or if that be a la hour too difficult, at least to succour 'em with your patron age, your commiseration, and your admittance into sane LIFE OF MILTON. 209 tuary. And there are some reasons of state to encou- rage your Majesty not to refuse the Piemontois a safe asy- lum in your kingdom; but I am unwilling that you, so great king, should be induced to the defence and succour of the miserable by any other arguments than those of your ancestor's pledged faith, yoiir own piety, royal benignity and magnanimity. Thus the immaculate and intire glory of a most egregious act will be your own, and you will find the Father of Mercy, and his Son, King Christ, whose name and doctrine you have vindicated from nefarious in- humanity, so much the more favourable and propitious to your Majesty, all your days. The God of mercy and power infuse into your Majesty's heart a resolution to de- fend and save so many innocent Christians, and main- tain your own honour. " Westminster^ 3Jay, 1658." '*To the Evangelick Cities of the Switzers. "Illustrious and most noble Lords our dearest Friends, " How heavy and intolerable the sufferings of the Piemontois, your most afflicted neighbours, have bin, and how unmercifully they have been dealt with by their own prince, for the sake of their religion, by reason of the felness of the cruelties, we almost tremble to remember, and thought it superfluous to put you in mind of those things, which are much better known to your Lordships. We have also seen copies of the letters, which your am- bassadors, promoters and witnesses of the peace, conclu- ded at Pignerol, wrote to the duke oi^ Savoy, and the pres- ident of his council at Turin ; wherein they set forth, and make it out, that all the conditions of the said peace are 19 210 LIFE OF 3riLTOX. broken, and were rather a snare then a security to those miserable people. Which violation continued from the conclusion of the peace to this very moment, and still growing more heavy every day then other : unless they patiently endure, unless they lay themselves down to be trampled under foot, plashed 'like mortar, or abjure their religion, the same calamities, the same slaughters, hang over their heads, which three years since, made such a dreadful havock of them, their wives and children ; and which, if it must be undergone once more, will certainly prove the utter extirpation of their whole race. What shall such miserable creatures do ? In whose behalf no intercession will avail, to whom no breathing time is al- lowed, nor any certain place of refuge. They have to do with wild beasts, or furies rather, upon whom the re- membrance of their former murders has wrought no com- passion upon their countrymen, no sense of humanity, nor satiated their ravenous hunger after blood. Most certainly these things are not to be endured, if we desire the safety of our brethren the Piemoniois, most ancient professors of the orthodox faith, or the welfare of our re- ligion itself. As for ourselves, so far remote, we have not been wanting to assist 'em as far as in us lay, nor shall we cease our future aid. But you, who not only lie so near adjoining, as to behold the butcheries, and hear the outcries and shrieks of the distressed, but are also next exposed to the fury of the same enemies ; consider for the sake of the immortal God, and that in time, what it behoves ye now to do : consult your prudence, your piety, and your fortitude, what succour, what relief and safeguard you are able, and are bound to afford your neighbours and brethren, who must else undoubtedly and speedily perish. Certainly the same religion is the cause, why the same enemies seek also your perdition ; why, at LIFE OF MILTOTC. 211 the same time the last year, they meditated your ruin, by intestine broiles among yourselves. It seems to be only in your power, next under God, to prevent the extir- pation of this most ancient Scien of the purer religion, in these remainders of the primitive believers ; whose pre- servation now reduced to the very brink of utter ruin, if you neglect, beware that the next turn be not your own. These admonitions, while we give ye freely, and out of brotherly love, we are not quite as yet cast down : for what lies only in our power so far distant, as we have hitherto so shall we still employ our utmost endeavours, not only to procure the safety of our brethren upon the precipice of danger, but also to relieve their wants. May the Al- mighty God vouchsafe to both of us that peace and tran- quillity at home, that settlement of times and affairs, that we may be able to employ all our wealth and force, all our studies and counsels in the defence of his church against the rage and fury of her enemies. " From OUT Court at Whitehall, May, 1658." " To his Eminency Cardinal Mazarin, " Most Eminent Lord, " The late most grievous cruelties, and most bloody slaughters perpetrated upon the inhabitants of the valleys oi Piemont, within the duke of Savoy^s dominions, occasioned the writing of the inclosed letters to his Ma- jesty, and these other to your Eminency. And as we make no doubt but that such tyranny, inhumanities, so rigorously inflicted upon harmless and indigent people, 212 LIFE OF MILTON. are highly displeasing and offensive to the most Serene King ; so we readily persuade ourselves, that what we request from his Majesty in behalf of tJiose unfortunate creatures, your Eminency will employ your endeavour, and your favour to obtain, as an accumulation to our in- tercessions. Seeing there is nothing which has acquired more good-will and affection to the French nation, among all the neighbouring professors of the reformed religion, then that liberty and those privileges, which by publick acts and Edicts are granted in that kingdom to the Pro- testants. And this among others was one main reason, w^hy this republick so ardently desired the friendship and alhance of the French people. For the settling of which we are now treating with the King's embassador, and have made those progresses, that the treaty is almost brought to a conclusion. Besides that, your Eminency's singular benignity and moderation, which in the manage- ment of the most important affairs of the kingdom, you have always testified to the Protestants of jProfTice, encou- rages us to expect what we promise to ourselves from 5'^our prudence and generosity ; whereby you will not only lay the foundations of a stricter alliance between this republick and the kingdom of France, but oblige us in par- ticular to returns of all good offices of civility and kind- ness ; and of this we desire your eminency to rest assured. " Your Eminencv^s most Affectionate/* LIFE OF MILTOX. 213 "Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth of Eng- land, (fee. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles Gustavus, king of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, &;c. " Most Serene and Potent King, our Friend and Confederate, " We have received two letters from your Ma- jesty, the one by your Envoy, the other transmitted to us from our Resident, Philip Meadowes, whereby we not only understood your Majesties unfained grief for the death of our most Serene Father, in expressions setting forth the real thoughts of your mind, and how highly your Majesty esteemed his prowess and friendship, but also what great hopes your Majesty conceived of our- selves advanced in his room. And certainly as an accu- mulation of paternal honour in deeming us worthy to succeed him, nothing more noble, more illustrious, could befal us then the judgment of such a prince ; nothing more fortunately auspicious could happen to us, at our first entrance upon the government, then such a congrat- ulator ; nothing lastly that could more vehemently incite us to take possession of our Father's vertues, as our law- ful inheritance, then the encouragement of so great a king. As to what concerns your Majesties interests, already under consideration between us, in reference to the common cause of the Protestants, we would have your Majesty have those thoughts of us, that since we came to the helm of this republick, though the condition of our affairs be such at present, that they chiefly require our utmost diligence, care, and vigilancy at home, yet that we hold nothing more sacred, and that there is not any thing more determined by us, then as much as in us lyes, never to be wanting to the league concluded by our 19* 214 LIFE OF MILTO:^. Father with your Majesty. To that end, we have taken care to send a fleet into the Baltic Sea, with those in- structions which our agent, to that purpose empowered by US; will communicate to your Majesty ; whom God preserve in long safety, and prosper with success in the defence of his orthodox religion. '^ From our Court at Westminster, October 13, 1658." "Richard, Protector, to the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles GusTAvrs, king of the Swedes, Goths, and Ya^'dals, &;c. " Most Serene and most Potent King, our Friend and Confederate, " We send to your Majesty, nor could we send a present more worthy or more excellent, the truly brave and truly noble. Sir George Ascue, Knight, not only famed in war, and more especially for his experience in sea affairs, approved and tryed in many desperate engage- ments, but also endued with singular probity, modesty, ingenuity, learning, and for the sweetness of his disposi- tion caressed by all men ; and which is the sum of all, now desirous to serve under the banners of your Majesty, so renowned o're all the world for your mihtary prowess. And we would have your Majesty be fully assured, that whatsoever high employment you confer upon him, wherein fidelity, fortitude, experience, may shine forth in their true lusture, you cannot entrust a person more faithful, more couragious, nor easily more skilful. More- over, as to those things we have given him in charge to communicate to your Majesty, we request that he may have quick access, and favourable audience, and that LIFE OF MILTON. 215 you will vouchsafe the same credit to him, as to our- selves if personnally present : lastly, that you will give him that honour, as you shall judge becoming a person dignified with his own merits and our recommendation. Now God Almighty prosper all your affairs with happy success, to his own glory and the safeguard of his ortho^ dox church. " From our Court at Whitehall, October, 1658." The two following Letters, after the deposal of Richard Cromwell, were loritten in the name of the Parliament restored, *' The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, &:c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles GusTAVus, King of the Swedes, Goths, and Van- DALs, &;c. "Most Serene and Potent King, our Dearest Friend, *' Since it has pleased the most merciful and omnipotent God, at whose disposal only the revolutions of all kingdoms and republicks are, to restore us to our pristin authority, and the supream administration of the English affairs, we thought it convenient in the first place to make it known to your Majesty, and to signify- moreover as well our extraordinary affection to your Ma- jesty, so potent a Protestant prince, as also our most fer- vent zeal to promote the peace between your Majesty and the king of Denmark, another most powerful Protes- tant king, not to be reconciled without our assistance and the good offices of our affection. Our pleasure there- 216 LIFE OF MILTO^^ fore is, that our extraordinary envoy, Philip Meadowes, be continued in the same employment with your Majesty with which he has bin hitherto entrusted from this repub- lick. To which end, we empower him by these our let- ters to make proposals, act and negociate with your Ma- jesty, in the same manner as was granted him by his last recommendations : and whatsoever he shall transact and conclude in our name, we faithfully promise and engage by God's assistance, to confirm and ratify. The same God long support your Majesty, the pillar and support of the Protestant interests. " William Lenthal, Speaker of the Parliament of the Common- wealth of England. " Wtstminster, May 15, 1659." The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, &;c. To the most Serene Prince, Frederick king of Denmark. Most serene King and most dear Friend, " Seeing it now is come to pass, that by the will and pleasure of the most merciful and powerful God, the supream moderator of all things, we are restored to our pristin place and dignity, in the administration of the publick affairs, we thought it convenient in the first place that a revolution of this government should not be con- cealed from your Majesty's notice, a prince both our neighbour and confederate ; and withal, to signify, how much we lay to heart your ill success : which you will easily perceive by our zeal and diligence, that never shall be wanting in us to promote and accomplish a reconci- liation between your Majesty and the king of Sweden. And therefore we have commanded our extraordinary LIFE OF MILTON. 217 envoy with the most Serene king of Sweden^ Philip Medows, to attend your Majesty, in our name, in order to these matters, and to impart, propound, act and negotiate such things as we have given himin charge to communicate to your Majesty : and what credit you shall give to him in this his employment, we request your Majesty to be- lieve it given to ourselves. God Almighty grant your Majesty a happy and joyful deliverance out of all your difficulties, and afflicting troubles under which you stand so undauntedly supported by your fortitude and magna- nimity. "William Lenthal, Speaker of the Parliament of the Common- wealth of England. '^Westminster^ May, 15,1659." In the Advertisement " To the Reader," prefixed to these " Letters of State," printed in London, 1694, it is said, " To question the truth of those transactions to which these following Letters have relation, would be a solecism which ignorance itself would be ashamed to own. The dates, subscriptions, superscriptions, render every thing authentick. So that were it only for their character of truth which must be allow'd 'em, that alone is sufficient to recommend 'em to posterity ; at least, to those who may be ambitious to be the English Thuanus's of sue- ceeding ages, to whom the verity of these Letters will be a careful clue, so far as it reaches, to guide them through the labyrinth of forgotten history. Honi soit qui mat y pence, ^^ 218 LIFE OF MILTON. CHAPTER VII. 1660—1674. The Parliament having concluded their negociations with Charles H. at Breda, Milton" was discharged from his office as Latin Secretary ; and in order to secure himself from the probable vengeance of the restored king, he left his house in Petty France, where he had lived for more than eight years, and where he had been visited by all the foreigners of note who came to England, by several persons of rank, and by the intelligent of every persuasion and party. During that period, from 1652 to 1660, he had kept up a large correspondence with learned foreign- ers, especially with his admirer, Leonardus Philaras, who on one occasion, paid him a visit at his house in Westminster. Milton was now obliged to secrete himself at a friend's house in St. Bartholomew's Close for some time after the Restoration. In a proclamation at this time, it is said, as may be seen in Rennet's Chronicle, p. 189, " the said John Milton and John Goodwin, are so fled, or so obscure themselves, that no endeavours used for their apprehension can take effect, whereby they may be brought to legal trial, and deservedly receive condign punishment for their treasons and offences." It is re- ported, that for the purpose of saving his life, some of his friends gave out that he had died, and contrived for him a sham funeral ! Thus, while some of his old com- panions were expiating their alleged offences by the most cruel executions as regicides, and others by assassina- LIFE OF 3IILT0N. 2l9 tions, he was secured from the fury of the raging, pitiless storm ; it being thought he had become a resident of that house, " where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest.^^* Some idea of the danger to which, at this time, he was exposed, may be seen from the fate to which some of his books were condemned. His work, entitled Eiclonoclastis, and his Defensio Pro Populo Anglicano, were proscribed on the 27th of August, 1661, and several copies of them were publicly committed to the flames by the common hangman. Impotent malice ! Would not the divine right of kings and bishops have preserved the nation, as by a charm, from the contagion of these pamphlets? But the doctrine of the sovereignty of the people has been thought epidemical ever since the times of Charles II. The Act of Oblivion was passed on the 30th of August. In this, Milton and John Goodwin, both of whom had written in justification of the nation, for having put Charles I. to death, were included, with the understand- ing they were no more to bear any government offices. There are differences of opinion as to what particular cause Milton owed his escape from the fate to which even his noble friend, Sir Harry Vane, «' religious free- dom's eldest son," was subjected. Toland says, " Mil- ton had many good friends to intercede for him, both in the Privy Council and the House of Commons ; nor was * One of his historians says : "By this precaution he probably escaped the particular prosecution which was at first directed against him. Mr. Warton was told by Mr. Tyers, from good authority, that when Milton was under prosecution with Goodwin, his friends, to gain time, made a mock funeral for hun ; and that when matters were settled in his favour, and the affair was known, the king laughed heartily at the trick." This circumstance is also I'elated by Cunningham, in his history of Great Britain, who says, that Milton "pretended to be dead, and had a public funeral procession, and that the king applauded his policy in escaping the punish- ment of death by a seasonable shew of dying." 220 LIFE OF MILTON. Charles II. such an enemy to the Muses, as to have re- quired his being destroyed ; though some are of opinion that he was more obliged to that prince's forgetfulness than to his clemency.*" The king's pardon having been secured, Milton again made his appearance, being resuscited, if not by a na- tural, yet by a political resurrection ! Still he was not free from peril, as I find that, on some account or other, soon after this, he was in custody of the sergeant-at-arms ; for on Saturday, the 15th of December, it was ordered by the House of Commons, that " Mr. Milton, now in cus- tody of the sergeant-at-arms, he forthwith released, on pay- ing his fees.^' And on Monday the 17th, " a complaint being made that the sergeant-at-arms had demanded ex- cessive fees for the imprisonment of Mr. Milton, " it be referred to the committee of privileges, &;c. to examine what is fit to be given to the sergeant for his fees in this case." It is most likely that he was so much disgusted by the versatility which he had witnessed in men of all ranks, (clergy and laity having, with but few exceptions, aban- doned all their avowed principles, and bowed to the rising sun,) that he now retired from public life, and never again interfered with politics. So far as appears, he strictly attended to the text of the court divine. Dr. Griffiths : " My son, fear thou God, and the King, and meddle not with them that are given to change /" It must afford much pleasure to the admirers of Milton's character, that he now exemplified, in his own conduct, the features which he has drawn of Abdiel, " the fervent angel :" — * It is stated by Richardson, p. 89, that Milton owed his life to Sir William D^Avenant, who had himself been pardoned in 1650 at the in- tercession of Milton. LIFE OF MILTON, 221 " Faithful found among the faithless ; Nor numbers, nor example, with him wrought To swerve from truth For this was all thy care, to stand approv'd In sight of God, though worlds judg'd thee perverse." He soon after again entered into the marriage state, with Elizabeth, daughter of Mr. Minshal, of Cheshire ; who was recommended to him by his distinguished friend, Dr. Paget. His family now consisted of his wife, and three daughters by his first wife : two of these he had taught to read and pronounce, with great exactness, the English, Italian, Spanish, French, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin languages. There was no book therefore in those languages, that he wished to use, but what either of them could read to him, though they did not understand any but their mother tongue. It is said, his daughters complained of this employment as drudgery, and that when he was made acquainted with it, he instantly dispensed with their assistance, and procured for them the knowledge of some useful trades suited to their sex and taste. This is the proper place to introduce the account given by Thomas EUwood, the Quaker, of his becoming ac- quainted with Milton. This plain but learned man says : '' John Milton, a gentleman of great note for learning, throughout the learned world, for the accurate pieces he had written on various subjects and occasions. This per- son having filled a public station in former times, lived now a private and retired life in London ; and having wholly lost his sight, kept always a man to read to him, which usually was the son of some gentleman of his ac- quaintance, whom in kindness he took to improve in learn- ing. Thus, by the mediation of my friend Isaac Penning- ton with Dr. Paget, and of Dr. Paget with John Milton, was I admitted to come to him ; not as a servant to him, 20 222 LIFE OF MILTOIf. (which at that time he needed not,) nor to be in the house with him ; but only to have the liberty of coming to his house, at certain times when I would, and to read to him what books he should appoint me. Understanding that the mediation for my admittance with John Milton had succeeded so well that I might come when I would, I hastened to London, and in the first place went to wait upon him. " He received me courteously, as well for the sake of Dr. Paget who introduced me, as of Isaac Pennington j who recommended me ; to both whom he bore a good respect. And having enquired divers things of me, in respect to my former progression in learning, he dismist me, to provide myself such accommodations as might be most suitable to my future studies. I went therefore and took myself a lodging as near to his house (which was then in Jewen-sireet) as conveniently I could ; and from thenceforward went every day in the afternoon, (except on the first day of the week,) and sitting by him in his dining-room, read to him in such books in the Latin tongue as he pleased to hear me read. " At my first sitting to read to him, observing that I used the English ^pronunciation, he told me. ' If I would have the benefit of the Latin tongue, (not only to read and understand Latin authors, but) to converse with fo- reigners either abroad or at home, I must learn the foreign pronunciation." To this I consenting, he instructed me how to sound the vowels. Perceiving with what earnest desire I pursued learning, he gave me not only all the encouragement, but all the help he could. For having a curious ear, he understood by my tones, when I under- stood what I read, and when I did not. " Some time before I went to Alesbury prison in 1665, I was desired by my quondam master, Milton, to take a LIFE OF MILTON. 22S liouse for him in the neighbourhood where I dwelt, that he might get out of the city, for the safety of himself and his family, the pestilence then growing hot in London. I took a pretty Box for him in Giles Chalfont, a mile from me, of which I gave him notice; and intended to have waited on him, and seen him well settled in it, but was prevented by that imprisonment. But now being released, and re- turned home, I soon made a visit to him, to welcome him into the country. "After some common discourses had passed between us, he called for a manuscript of his; which being brought; he delivered to me, bidding me take it home with me, and read it at my leisure ; and when I had so done to return it to him, with my judgment thereupon. " When I came home, and had set myself to read it, I found it was that excellent poem. Paradise Lost. After I had, with the best attention, read it through, I made him another visit, and returned him his book, with due acknow- ledgment of the favour he had done rae, in communicating it to me. He asked me how I liked it, and what I thought of it ; which I modestly but freely told him : and after ^ome further discourse about it, I pleasantly said to him, ^ Thou hast said much here of Paradise lost, but what hast thou to say of Paradise found V He made me no answer, but sate some time in a muse, then broke off that dis- course, and fell upon another subject. " After the sickness was over, and the city well cleansed and become safely habitable again, he returned thither. And when afterwards I went to wait on him there, (which I seldom failed of doing whenever any occasions drew me to London,) he shewed me his second Poem, called Paradise Regained, and in a pleasant tone said to me, ^ This is owing to you ; for you put it into my head, by 224 LIFE OF MILTON. the question you put to me at Chalfont ; which before I had not thought of.' "* It will be seen from the account given by Ell wood, that he had finished his incomparable poem, " Paradise Lost," in 1665. It does not appear at what period he commenced writing it, but it is most likely the world is indebted for it, at least for its completion, to his having been removed from his office of Latin Secretary, or he would never have secured the requisite and uninterrupted leisure which such a composition necessarily required. It was happy for the admirers of exquisite poetry too, that he did not accept, as it is said he had an opportunity, the offer of being re- stored to his former station as Latin Secretary to the go- vernment. It was on this occasion, when urged to ac- cept the office by his wife, that he replied, " Ah ! my dear, you are like most other females, you would like to be a lady and ride in a coach ; but my ambition is to live and die an honest man. "f His immortal poem, " Paradise Lost," was begun, it is said, about 1655. I conjecture that the two first books only were written while he was employed as Latin Sec- * Eihvood's Life, 132, 135, and 234. t Dr. Johnson, who is always malignant towards Milton, intimates his doubts as to the truth of this statement. It rests however upon good grounds. Richardson says, p. 100, " My authority is Henry Bendish, Esq. a des- cendant by his mother's side from the Protector, Oliver Cromwell. Their family and Milton's were in great intimacy before and after his death, and the thing was known among them. Mr. Bendish has heard the widow, or daughter, or both say it, that soon after the Restoration, the king offered to employ this pardoned man as his Latin Secretary, the post in which he served Cromwell with so much integrity and ability. (That a like offer was made to Thurlow has never been disputed, as ever I heard.) Milton withstood the offer ; the wife pressed his compliance : ' Thou art in the rights ' said he, ' you, as other women would ride in your coach ; /or me^ mv aim is to live and die an honest man.^ LIFE OF MILTON. 225 retary. Admitting this supposition to be right, then the work was recommenced at the third chapter, after his being delivered from his state of " obscure sojourn," and with a reference to that awful obscurity into which he was plunged, as into the *' Stygian pool." It was pub- lished in ten books ; but it was afterwards, under his di- rection, arranged into twelve books. I shall not attempt any description of its unrivalled excellencies ; this has repeatedly been done by writers who were more equal to such criticisms than to which I can have any preten- sions. As to the correctness of its theological sentiments, I speak without any hesitation ; and as to the sublimity of the sentiments, I profess myself to be lost in wonder and admiration ! The first paragraph explains fully the cause which enabled him to produce this almost super-human poem : " The meek will HE guide in judgment ; the meek will HE teach his way !" " Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat. Sing heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed. In the beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth Rose out of Chaos ; or, if Sion hill Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song. That with no middle flight attempts to soar Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer, Before all temples, th' upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for thou know'st ; Thou from the first Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, 20* 226 LIFE OF MILTON/ Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad'st it pregnant : What in me is dark, Illumine : what is low, raise and support ; That to the height of this great argument 1 may assert eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men." Book i. 1—25. The few other extracts which I make from this most extraordinary poem, will be for eliciting his religious sentiments on some important points of theology.* "Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heav'n first born I Or of th' Eternal coeternal beam, May I express thee unblam'd 7 since God is ligh t, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate ! Or hear'st thou rather, pure ethereal stream, Whose fountam who shall tell ? before the sun. Before the Heav'ns thou wert, and, at the voice Of God, as with a mantle didst invest, The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless infinite. Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing, Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detain'd ♦ Toland says, p. 129, "I must not forget that we had like to be eter- nally deprived of this treasure, by the ignorance or malice of the. licenser ; who among other frivolous exceptions, would needs suppress the whole poem for imaginary treason in the following lines :— "As when the sun new risen, Looks thro' the horizontal misty air, Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon In dark eclipses disastrous twilight sheds. On half the nations and with fear of change. Perplexes monarchs." The licenser was the Rev. Thomas Tomkyns, one of the chaplains of Archbishop Sheldon. This office, I find, had been abolished during the Protectorate, but was restored, with other corruptions, at the Restoration. LIFE OF MILTON. 227 In that obscure sojourn,* while in my flight Through utter and through middle darkness borne, With other notes than to th' Orphean lyre, I sung of Chaos and eternal night, Taught by th' Heav'nly Muse to venture down The dark descent, and up to re-ascend. Though hard and rare : thee I re-visit safe, And feel thy gov' reign vital lamp, but thou Re-visit'st not these eyes, that roll in vain To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; So thick a drop serene hath quench'd their orbs, Or dim suffusion veil'd. Yet not the more Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief Thee, Sion and the flow'ry brooks beneath. That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow, Nightly I visit : nor sometimes forget Those other two equall'd with me in fate, So were I equall'd with them in renown, Blind TTiamyris and blind Moeonides, And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old : Then feed on thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose. Or flocks or herds or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut oflT, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with an universal blank * Richardson, in his note on the line, " In darkness and with dangers compass'd round," says : "This is explained by a piece of secret history, for which we have good authority. Paradise Lost was written after tlie Restoration, when Milton apprehended himself to be in danger of his life, first from royal vengeance, (having been very deeply engaged against the royal party,) and when safe by pardon, from private malice and re- sentment. He was always in fear, much alone, and slept ill. When restless, he would ring for the person who wrote for him, (which was his daughter commonly,) to write what he composed, which would sometimes flow with great ease." 228 LIFE OF MILTON, Of nature's works, to me expung'd and ras'd, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight." Book iii. 1—55 ON PROVIDENCE. " The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow. Through Eden took their solitary way." Book xii. 646—649. ON THE NECESSITY OF THE INFLUENCE OF THE HOLT SPIRIT. Speaking of his blindness, he says, "And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. So much the rather thou, celestial Light, Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes, all mist from thence Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight." Book iii. lines 50—55. ON THE ORIGIN OF EVIL. And now, Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way, Not far off Heav'n, in the precincts of light, Directly tow'rds the new created world. And man there plac'd, with purpose to essay If him by force he can destroy, or worse, By some false guile pervert ; and shall pervert. For Man will hearken to his glozing lies, And easily transgress the sole command, Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault 7 Whose but his own ? Ingrate he had of me All he could have ; I made him just and right, LIFE OF MILTON. 229 Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall." *' They therefore as to right belong'd, So were created, nor can justly accuse Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, As if predestination over-rul'd Their will, dispos'd by absolute decree Of high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed Their own revolt, not I : if I foreknew. Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown. So without least impulse or shadow of fate, Or ought by me immutable foreseen, They trespass, authors to themselves in all Bothwlui'. they judge and what they choose ; for so I form'd tiicm free, and free they must remain, Till they inthrall themselves ; I else must change Their nature and revoke the high decree Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd Their freedom : they themselves ordain'd their fall. The first^sortby their own suggestion fell, Self-tempted, self-deprav'd : Man falls, deceiv'd By th' other first ; Man therefore shall find grace, The other none. In mercy and justice both, Through Heav'n and Earth, so shall my glory excel, But mercy first and last shall brightest shine,'" Bookiii. hnes85--100; 110—134, ON THE PROPER DIVINITY OF THE SON OF GOD. " Beyond compare the Son of God was seen Most glorious ; in him all his Father shone Substantially express'd ; and in his face Divine compassion visibly appear' d. Love without end, and without measure grace." Book iii. lines 138—142. ON PERSONAL ELECTION. "As my eternal purpose hath decreed : Man shall not quite be lost, but sav'd who will, Yet not of will in him, but grace in me Freely vouchsafed. Some have I chosen of peculiar grace 230 LIFE OF MILTON, Elect above the rest ! so is my will : The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn'd, Their sinful state, and to appease betimes Th' incensed Deity, while offer' d grace Invites; for I will clear their senses dark. What may suffice, and soften stony hearts To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. To pray'r, repentance, and obedience due, Though but endeavour'd with sincere intent, Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut ; And I will place within them as a guide My umpire conscience, whom if they will hear. Light after light well us'd they shall attain, And to the end persisting, safe arrive. This my long sufferance and my day of grace They who neglect and scorn shall never taste ; But hard be harden' d, blind be blinded more, That they may stumble on, and deeper fall ; And none but such from mercy I exclude." ON THE SUBSTITUTION OF CHRIST. '' He with his whole posterity must die, Die he or justice must ; unless for him Some other able, and as willing, pay The rigid satisfaction, death for death. Say, heav'nly Powers ! where shall we find such love 7 Which of ye will be mortal to redeem Man's mortal crime, and just th' unjust to save ? Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear ?" Book iii. 208—216. "Behold me then; me for him life for life £ offer ; on me let thine anger fall ; Account me Man ; I for his sake will leave Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee Freely put off, and for him lastly die Well pleas'd: on me let death wreak all his rage ; Under his gloomy pow'r I shall not long Lie vanquish'd." Book iii. 236—243. ON FAITHFUL AND ARDENT ZEAL IN RELIGION. " So spake the fervent Angel ; but his zeal LIFE or MILTON, 281 None seconded, as out of season judg'd, Or singular and rash ; whereat rejoic'd The Apostate." " So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he ; Among innumerable false, unmov'd, Unshaken, unseduc'd, unterrify'd. His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal : Nor number, nor example, with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, Though single." Book V. 849—851 ; 896—903. ON THE PLEASURES OF AN APPROVING CONSCIENCE. " On to the sacred hill They led him high applauded, and present Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice, From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard : " ' Servant of God well done; well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain' d Against revolted multitudes the cause Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms ; And for the testimony of truth hast borne Universal reproach, far worse to bear Than violence ; for this was all thy care To stand approv'd in sight of God, though worlds Judg'd thee perverse.' " Book vi. 25—37. ON RATIONAL LIBERTY. " Let me serve, In Heav'n God ever blest, and his divine Behests obey, worthiest to be obey' d." Bookvi. 183— 185. ON THE ENTRANCE OF SIN INTO THE WORLD. " So saying, her rash hand in evil hour Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat. Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat. Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe That all was lost." 232 LIFE OF MILTON. ON NEGRO COLONIAL SLAVERT, " O execrable son bo to aspire Above his brethren, to himself assuming Authority usurp'd, from God not given; He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, Dominion absolute : that right we hold By his donation ; but man over men He made not lord : such title to himself Reserving, human left from human free." Book xii. 64—72. ON BAPTISM. " To his disciples, men who in his life Still foUow'd him ; to them shall leave in charge To teach all nations what of him they learn' d. And his salvation, them who shall believe Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign . Of washing them from guilt of sin to life Pure and in mind prepar'd, if so befall. For death,* like that which the Redeemer dy'd. All nations they shall teach ; for from that day Not only to the sons of Abrahain's loins Salvation shall be preach'd, but to the sons Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world ; So in his seed all nations shall be blest." Book xii. 438—450. His negociation with the bookseller to pubhsh this most admirable poem, is now considered a subject of as- tonishment ! Let it, however, be recollected, that the subject of copyright was but imperfectly understood, and that literary property was not, as now, so inviolably se- cured. In addition to this, Milton's republicanism could not have been forgotten, as the anecdote of the learned licenser fully proves ! There were many, doubtless, who would have thought, that to describe " the sun new risen," and ''shorn of its beams by misty air," must have been an overt act of treason ! and who would therefore be * i. Cor. 15. " Else what shall they do which are baptized for the dead, if the dead rise not. LIFE OF MILTON. 233 afraid to purchase a book, respecting which, doubtless, it would be both said and sung, that the learned licenser had at first refused, and at last had, with great hesitation, consented to* place his imprimatur upon a manuscript poem of poor old blind Milton, who had written the " Tenure of Kings,'''' &c. &;c. ! His contract for the copyright of " Paradise Lost," with Samuel Simmons the bookseller, is dated April 27th, 1667. It was printed in that year, without the name of the purchaser as its printer ; but in the next year it re- "* His respectable biographer, Simmons, has recorded an anecdote which is certainly very characteristic of the parties to whom it relates, though not supported by any authority. "The Duke of York, as it is reported, expressed one day to the king his brother, a wish to see old Mil TON, of whom he had heard so much. The king replied, that he felt no 'objection to the Duke satisfying his curiosity; and soon after James went privately to Milton's house, where, after an introduction, which explain- ed to the old republican the rank of his guest, a free conversation ensued bet ween these very dissimilar and discordant characters. In the course, however, of the conversation, the Duke asked Milton whether he did aot regard the loss of his eye-sight as a judgment inflicted upon him for what he had written against the late king. Milton's reply was to this effect : ' If your highness thinks that the calamities which befall us here are indications of the wrath of Heaven, in what manner are we to account for the fate of the king your father? The displeasure of Heaven must, u pon this supposition, have been much greater against him than against me ; for I have lost only my eyes, but he lost his head.' Much discom- posed by this answer, the Duke soon took his leave and went away. On his retu m to court, the first words which he spoke to the king were, ' Bro- ther, you are greatly to blame, that you don't have that old rogue Mil- ton, hanged.' ' Why, what is the matter, James'?' said the king : 'you seem in a heat. What ! have you seen Milton V ' Yes,' answered the Duke, ' I have seen him.' ' Well,' said the king, ' in what condition did you find him V ' Condition ! why, he is old and very poor.' 'Old and poor ! Well, he is blind too, is he not V ' Yes, blind as a beetle.' ' Why, then,' observed the king, 'you area fool, James, to have him hanged as a punishment : to hang him will be doing him a service ; it will be taking him out of his miseries. No, if he be old, poor, and blind, he is miserable enough ; in all conscience, let him live,' " 21 234 LIFE OP MILT OK c ceived a new title-page, when the name of S. Simmondgf appeared in its proper place. The copyright was sold for the actual payment of fiv^ pounds, and the contingent payment, on the sale of two thousand six hifndred copies, of two other equal sums. At the end of two years, thir- teen hundred copies had been circulated. In five years after this period a second edition was published, and in four years after this, a third was demanded by the public. Before the end of twenty years, it had passed through twenty editions. It is said that he produced his other poem, " Paradise Regained," in about ten months after the idea first struck his mind ; which is by no means incredible, even v^^heo it is considered how great an inconvenience his blindness must have occasioned in regard to his being under the necessity of employing an amanuensis. At the same' time, it must have been favourable to that mental ab- straction which the study of so glorious a subject re- quired. The serious, contemplative person, v/ho reads attentively this strictly religious poem, will soon form an idea, from its contents, how happy and pure must have been the mind of Milto^st, at the time when he wrote his "• Paradise Regained." This was published in 1670. Of this poem, in four books only, Todd says : "It is generally esteemed much inferior to Paradise Lost ; which he could not endure to hear, being quite of an- other mind. This occasioned some one to say wittily enough, that Milton might be seen in Paradise Lost, but not in Paradise Regained .'" And this is the estimate still put upon the work, which, if it were surpassed by its own author, has never been equalled by any other. I suspect that its decidedly religious and evangelical cha- racter has procured for it less attention from mere critics, than it would have otherwise received : I need not men- LIFE OF MILTOTs. 235 aoii names of persons v/ho have v/ritten of Milton, who, by their irreligious character, or their infidel principles, were disqualified for giving a correct opinion of the ex- cellencies of « Paradise Regained." I am not surprised to find that he was displeased when any one spoke of it ^'as much inferior to Paradise Lost." This poem, if inferior to " Paradise Lost" as to subUm- ity and originality of conception, is certainly more than equal to it for simplicity and spirituality of statement. It is, in fact, a close exposition of the inspired account of our Lord's temptation in the wilderness, into which he had been led immediately after his baptism by John the Baptist, "in the river Jordan," to be tried by the devil, as recorded by Matthew, in the fourth chapter of his gospel. It strikes me, that the graphic description which he has given of "the false glories of the world ;" and of the o-eography of " all the kingdoms of the earth," as shown to the Messiah " from the pinnacle of the temple," displays most extensive and correct worldly knowledge, -and religious sentiment. It is also much better suited to convey information as to real life, than the fanciful de- scriptions which he has drawn, in his "Paradise Lost," from the heathen mythology, or the highly. wrought poet- ical sketches of Hell— of the birth of Sin and Death— the Garden of Eden — and the war among the Angels in Heaven. The supposed replies given by our Saviour to the flatteries of Satan, are conceived in the highest de- gree of nature ; and the easy conquest obtained by Him ^ who " though in all points tempted as we are, was yet without sin," is drawn by the hand of a master. It is impossible for any one, to whom the Saviour "is pre- clous," and who considers his triumph as securing the victory on behalf of his people over Satan and the world, to read this admirable work, without saying, " Thanks be 236 LIFE OF MILTON. to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Je- sus Christ," If, in reading ." Paradise Lost," he meets with much to produce deep and painful humihation ; he will, in reading " Paradise Regained," meet with much to excite exalted praise and thanksgiving. " For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous." When, in 1670, he published his " Paradise Regained," he added to it his " Sampson Agonistes ;" which I con.^ jecture, from its having no allusion to his own blindness, when that of Sampson's is so touchingly described, must have been composed before he had lost his sight. To- land calls this " an excellent tragedy, not a ridiculous mixture of gravity and farce, according to most of the modern, but after the example of the yet unequall'd an- tients, as they are justly called, ^Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides." Though this was written in the dramatic form, yet, as the author expresses in the Preface, it was not designed for dramatic representation. Indeed, the correct performance of a few such pieces as SAMPSO^' Agonistes, would soon get rid of the large audiences which nightly flock to the theatres. There cannot be a more concentrated and juster de- scription of Milton, considered as a poet, than in the well-known words of Dryden : — " Three Poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England, did adorn t Tlie first in loftiness of thought surpassed t The next in majesty ; in both tlie last. The force of nature could no further go : To make a third, she joined the former two.'- Mention has been made of the withdrawment of Mil- ton at the time of the plague, in 1666, to the country. This probably led to the report that he had died of that LIFE OF MILTOX. 237 disease. Some of his foreign friends, by whom he was still held in high estimation, wrote to inquire if this report were true. The following letter, the last of his familiar epistles, addressed to Peter Heimhach, a learned German, will show the state of his mind, deserted as he was by nearly all his ungrateful countrymen : — ■ ' To the most accomplished Peter Heimbach, Councillor of State to the Elector of Brandenhurgh, " That in a year so pestilential and so fatal as the present, amidst the deaths of so many of my compatriots, you should have believed me likewise, as you write me word, in consequence too of some rumour or other, to have fallen a victim, excites in me no surprise : and if that rumour owed its currency among you, as it seems to have done, to an anxiety for my welfare, I feel flattered by it, as an instance of your friendly regard. Through the providence of God, however, who had provided me with a safe retreat in the country, I still live, and am well : and would that I could add, not incompetent to any duty which it may be my future destiny to discharge. " But that, after so long an interval, I should have re- curred to your recollection, is highly gratifying to me ; though, to judge of your elegant embellishments of the matter, when you profess your admiration of so many diflTerent virtues united in my single person, you seem to furnish some ground for suspecting I have indeed escaped from your remembrance. From such a number of unions, in fact, I should have cause to dread a progeny too nu- merous, were it not admitted, that in disgrace and adver- sity the virtues principally increase and flourish. One of them, however, has not made me any very grateful re- turn for her entertainment, for she whom you call the poUtical, (though I had rather you had termed her love 21* 23S LIFE OF MILTOIN'. of country,) after seducing me with ber fine name, has nearly, if I may so express myself, deprived me of a country. The rest, indeed, harmonize more perfectly together. Our country is wherever we can live as we ought. " Before I conclude, I must prevail on you to impute whatever incorrectness of orthography or of punctuation in this epistle to my young amanuensis, whose total ig- norance of Latin has imposed on me the disagreeable ne- cessity of actually dictating to him every individual letter,. " That your deserts, as a man, consistently with the high promise with which you raised my expectations in your youth, should have elevated you to so eminent a station in your sovereign's favour, gives me the most sincere pleasure ; and I fervently pray and trust that yoo may proceed and prosper. Farewell.. '' London, August^ 1666.'' It appears that he had, several years before this, com- menced writing his History of Britain : this he had found leisure to complete, at least so far as the Norman Con- quest. It was published in 1670, but not as it came out of the hands of its honest author ; " For," says Toland, " the licensers, those sworn officers to destroy learning, liberty, and good sense, expunged several passages of it, wherein he had exposed the superstition, pride, and cun- ning, of the Popish monks in the Saxon times, but which were applied, by the sagacious licensers, to the bishops of Charles II." Well, I do not wonder they should have thought it to have heen ?i parody ! And what could have so galled the bishops, who had been at the bottom of the Act of Uniformity, and all the other persecuting statutes of that infamous and dissolute reign, as a picture of Saxon episcopal superstition .craft, and cunning? Toland say s^ LIFE OF MILTON. 239 " the rejection of those passages put me in mind of a reply to a certain person by Sir Robert Howard, a gentleman of great generosity, a patron of letters, a hearty friend to the Uberty ofhis country, and a great admirer of Milton, and his steady friend to his dying day. Milton having been charged in some publication with having whipped the Protestant clergy on the back of the heathen and popish priests. Sir Robert asked ; < What they had to do there ?'" It is not said how he obtained the publication of this History at such a time as was the year 1670 ; but we are told that he bestowed a copy of the manuscript, while unlicensed, on the Earl of Anglesey, who in com- mon with several of the nobility and gentry, was his con- stant visitor. "It is," adds Toland, "an irreparable loss to this most potent nation, that Milton did not find leisure to bring down his history to his own times." There were other powerful causes for this " irreparable loss" than the want of leisure. If the reverend licensers of the press would not suffer the History of the Saxons before the Conquest to be written fully out, what would they have said to a history written by the unbought and unpurchas- able Milton of the times after the Restoration ? The fairly written history of the intrigues of the bishops at the Savoy conference, and to procure the expulsion of two thousand Presbyterian confessors, would have been such an exposure of " superstition, pride, and cunning," as would have driven Dr. Seth Ward, and some others of the episcopal bench, stark raving mad ! Milton, finding he could not have fair play shown him as a writer of history, employed himself in composing elementary school books — as a Latin Grammar, also a work entitled, Artis Logicm plenior Institutio ad Petrie Rami methodum concinnata.^^ He was permitted to pub- lish too, "A brief History of Muscovy, and other less 240 LIFE OF MILTO:V. known Countries lying eastward of it as far as Cathapy collected from the relation of several Travellers." He translated from the Latin the Declaration of the Poles concerning the Election of their King, John III. contain- ing an account of the virtues and merits of that prince. He published also Sir Walter Raleigh's " Prince, or Maxims and Aphorisms of State ;" and his " Cabinet Council." His biographer, Toland, evidently pained at heart that the bigotry of the bishops should have bound in fetters this blind Sampson, and thus have almost de- prived the world of his learning and knowledge, says : ^'More pieces of this rarely accomplished, though unfor- tunate gentleman, were made public by other persons : and I daily expect more from James Tyrrel, who has the manuscript copies." The mighty energies of Milton were at length roused, by the shameful and hypocritical countenance which at this time were given to papists by the king and the Duke of York, the heir presumptive to the throne. He saw through the thin disguise which had, in 1672, granted licenses for opening the meeting-houses of Protestant dis- senters ; nor could he feel any thing but detestation of the dispensing power arrogated by the king, in granting, for a small sum of money, such licenses. It is not said, but it is by no means improbable, that the bishops might have now solicited the aid of their former implacable foe, and still, as to his dissenting principles, uncompromising enemy. However it was, in the year 1673, he wrote what proved to be his last work, and which was published just before his death. This was entitled, "A Treatise of true Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and the best Means that may he used to prevent the growth of Popery. The author, J. M., London, printed in the year 1673." LIFE OF MILTON. 241 The work thus commences : — " It is unknown to no man, who knows aught of concern- ment among us, that the increase of Popery is at this day- no small trouble and offence to [the] greatest part of the nation ; and the rejoicing of all good men that it is so, the more their rejoicing, that God hath given a heart to the people, to remember still their great and happy deliver- ance from Popish thraldom, and to esteem so highly the precious benefit of his gospel, so freely and so peaceably enjoyed among them. Since, therefore, some have al- ready in public, with many considerable arguments, ex- horted the people to beware the growth of this Romish weed ; I thought it no less than a common duty to lend my hand, how unable soever to so good a purpose. I will not now enter into the labyrinth of Councils and Fathers, an intangled wood, which the Papist loves to fight in, not with hope of a victory, but to obscure the shame of an overthrow ; which yet in that kind of combat, many here- tofore, and one of late, hath eminently given them. And such manner of dispute with them, to learned men useful, and very commendable. But I shall incist now, on what is plainer to common apprehension." *' True religion is the true worship and service of God, learnt and believed from the word of God only. No man or angel can know how God would be worship'd and serv'd, unless God reveal it. He hath reveal'd and taugh t it us in the Holy Scriptures by inspir'd ministers, and in the gospel by his own Son and his Apostles, with strictest commands to reject all other traditions or additions what- soever ; according to that of St. Paul, Though we or an angel from heaven 'preach any other gospel unto you, than that we have preached unto you, let him he anathema, or ac- curst ,' and Deut. iv. 2, Ye shall not add to the word which I command, neither shall you diminish aught from it. Rev. •242 LIFE OF MILTON. xxii. 18, 19, If any man shall add, <^c. If any man shall take away from the words, 4*c. With good and religious reasons, therefore, all Protestant churches, with one con- sent, and particularly the Church of England, in her Thirty-nine Articles. Articles 6th, 19th, 20th, 21st, and elsewhere, maintain these two points as the main princi- ples of true religion, that the rule of true rehgion is, the word of God only ; and that their faith ought not to be an implicit faith, that is to believe though as the church believes, against or without express authority from Scrip- ture." His exposure of the system of Popery is in his own best manner: he says — " One of their own famous wri- ters found just cause to stile the Romish Church, Mother of Error, School of Heresy." Amongst the best means to prevent the growth of Po- pery, he says, " Will be to read duly and diligently the Holy Scriptures, which, as St. Paul saith to Timothy, ° From a child thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus ;' and to the church at Colosse, (chap. iii. 16,) ' Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom,' &c." He adds, "The papal anti-christian Church permits not the laity^to read the Bible in her own tongue : our Protestant Church, on the contrary, hath pro- posed it to all men, and to this end translated it into Eng- lish, with profitable notes to what is met with obscure : though what is most necessary to be known is still plain- est, that all sorts and degrees of men, not, understanding it in the original, may read it in their mother tongue." " Another means," he says, " to abate Popery, arises from the constant reading of Scripture, wherein believers who agree in the main, are every where exhorted to mu^ tual forbearance and charity towards one another, though LIFE OF MILTOK. 243 dissenting in some opinions. It is written that the coat of our Saviour was without seam ; whence some would in- ter, that there should be no division in the church of Christ. It should be so indeed ; yet seams in the same cloth neither hurt the garment, nor misbecome it ; and not only seams but schisms wijl be, while men are fallible. But if they dissent in matters not essential to belief, while the common adversary is in the field, and stand jarfing and pelting at one another, they will be soon routed and subdued." ''It is human frality to err," says he, " and no man is infallible here on earth. But so long as the Lutherans, Calvinists, Anahapists, Socinians, and Arminians, profess to set the Word of God only before them as the rule of their faith and obedience ; and use all diligence and sin- cerit}" of heart, by reading, by learning, by study, by prayer for illumination of the Holy Spirit, to understand this rule md obey it, they have don whatever man can do. God will assuredly pardon them, as he did the friends of Job, good and pious men, tho' much mistaken (as there it appears) in som points of doctrin. But som will say, with Chris- tians it is otherwise, whom God has promis'd by his Spirit to teach all things. True, all things absolutely necessary to salvation : but the hottest disputes among Protestants, calmly and charitably examin'd, will be found less than such. The Lutheran holds Consubstantiation ; an error indeed, but not mortal. The Calvinist is taxM with Pre- destination, and to make God the author of sin, not with any dishonorable thoughts of God, but, it may be, over- zealously asserting his absolute power, not without plea from Scripture. The Anabaptist is accus'd of denying Infants their right to Baptism ; they say again, that they deny nothing but what the Scripture denys them. The Arian and Socinian are charg'd to dispute against the 244 LIFE OF MILTON. Trinity ; yet they affirm to believe the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, according to Scripture and the Apostolic Creed. As for the terms of Trinity, Triunity, Coessen- tiality, Tripersonality, and the like, they reject them as scholastic notions, not to be found in Scripture, which, by a general Protestant maxim, is plain and perspicuous abundantly to explain its own meaning in the properest words belonging to so high a matter, and so necessary to be known ; a mystery indeed in their sophistic suhtilties, but in Scripture a plain doctrin. The Arminian, lastly, is con- demn'd for setting up Free Will against Free Grace ; but that imputation he disclaims in all his writings, and grounds himself largely upon Scripture only. It cannot be deny'd that the authors or late revivers of all these sects or opinions, were learned, worthy, zealous, and re- ligious men, as appears by their lives written, and the fame of their many eminent and learned followers, per- fect and powerful in the Scriptures, holy and unblamable in their actions : and it cannot be imagin'd that God would desert such painful and zealous labourers in his Church, and ofttimes great sufferers for their conscience, to dam- nable errors and reprobat sense, who had so often im- plor'd the assistance of his Spirit ; but rather, having made no man infallible, that he has pardon'd their errors, and accepts their pious endeavours, sincerely searching all things according to the rule of Scripture, with such gui- dance and direction as they can obtain of God by prayer. What Protestant then, who himself maintains the same principles, and disavows all implicit faith, would perse- cute, and not tolerat such men as these, unless he means to abjure the principles of own religion? If it be ask'd, how far they should be tolerated ? I answer, doubtless equally, as being all Protestants ; that is, on all occasions to be permitted to give an account of their faith, either by LIFE OF MILTON. 245 arguing, preaching in their several assemblies, by public writing, and the freedom of printing." I quote Toland's statement as regards Milton's senti- ments in relation to whether Papists should also be toler- ated : " In the last place, Milton shews that Popery (not as it is a religion, hut a tyrannical faction, oppressing all others) is intolerable ; and that the best method of keep- ing it from ever increasing in this nation, is by the tolera- tion of all sorts of Protestants, or any others, whose prin- ciples do not necessarily lead them to sedition and vice." After having urged, as another mean to prevent the growth of Popery, the necessity of Protestants " amend- ing their lives," and reforming their conduct, he thus con- cludes : " Let us therefore, using this last mean, last here spoken of, but first to be done, amend our lives with all speed ; least, through impenitency, we run into that stu- pidly, which we now seek by all means warily to avoid, THE WORST OF SUPERSTITIONS, and the heaviest of all God's judgments, POPERY !" It is probable that it was this his last work, that, on ac- count of its Protestant zeal, called forth the spleen of the Rev. Dr. Parker, afterwards the Bishop of Oxford or Arch-deacon of Canterbury, who had virulently attacked Milton in 1673. The celebrated Andrew Marvel, who had been associated with Milton in 1657, as secretary to the Lord Protector, drew his pen in defence of his aged and calumniated friend, and in his *' Rehearsal Trans- posed," addressed to Parker, he thus writes : " You do three times, at least, in your Reproof, and in your Trans- poser Rehearsed^ well nigh half^the book through, run up- on an author, J. M. which does not a little offend me. — For why should any other man's reputation suffer in a contest between you and me ? But it is because you re- solved to suspect that he had a hand in my former book, 22 246 LIFE OF MILTON. [the first part of the Rehearsal, pubHshed in 1672,] where- in, whether you deceive yourself or no, you deceive others extreamly. For, by chance, I had not seen him of two years before ; but after I undertook writing, I did more carefully avoid either visiting him or sending to him, lest I should any way involve him in my consequences.— And you might have understood, or I am sure your friend, the author of the Common Pleas, could have told you, (he too had a slash at J. M. on my account,) that had he took you in hand, you would have had cause to repent the oc- casion, and not escaped so easily as you did under my Transposal. But because, in your 115th page, you are so particular, you know a friend of ours, (Sfc. intending THAT J. M. and his answer to Salmasius, I think it season- able to acquit my promise to you, in giving the reader a short trouble concerning my first acquaintance with you. J. M. was, and is, a man of as great learning and sharp- ness of wit as any man. It was his misfortune, living in a tumultuous time, to be tossed on the wrong side ; and he writ flagrante hello, certain dangerous treatises. At his majesty's happy return, J. M. did partake (and you your- self did, for all your huffing) of his royal clemency, and has ever since expiated himself in a retired silence." I am quite sure that Milton did not thank his friend Martel for this apology. There is not a hint in any wri- ter I have seen, that Milton ever abjured any of his po- litical principles, or ever regretted that he had published them ! He was an honest republican, preferring a coun- cil of state, but not objecting to have a presiding head, whether called protector, or even king. Sir Robert Howard, one of his admirers, asked him once, " What made him side with the republicans ?" "Why," said he, " among other things, because there's LIFE OF MILTON. 947 was the most frugal government; for the trappings of a MONARCHY might setup an ordinary commonwealth."* The fact is, that Milton thought a republican govern- ment the most likely to grant, and to protect, liberty of conscience ; but he was comparatively indifferent, so that was secured, by what kind of government it was effected. And is it any wonder he should have preferred even the gov- ernment of the army which secured this blessing, to that of a monarch (and such was Charles II.) who set oaths, and vows, and declarations, at defiance, in regard to banish- ing Protestant dissenters, and putting them to death by thousands, and robbing them, by fines and confiscations, of millions of their property ! The respect which was shown to Milton after the Re- storation, proves the high estimation in which his charac- ter for literature, and integrity, and piety was held. To- land having mentioned that several of the nobility and gentry were his constant visitors, adds : " Nor was he less frequented by foreners to the last, than in the time of his flourishing condition before the Restoration." What a remarkable proof that " when a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him !" HE, whom he had faithfully served, and aimed steadily to honour, kept him as in the hollow of his hand, and guarded him " as the apple of his eye ;" and not- withstanding the numerous and violent changes which he witnessed from 1640 to 1674, he was unchangeable in his principles as to civil and religious liberty, and went through them all with a high degree of reputation both as a citizen and a Christian ; and doubtless enjoyed more security and contentment, though blind, in his cottage, than Charles did on his throne ; or the Cabal in the council, or the Bishops in their palaces ! Toland says : " Towards the latter part of his time he * Tolaud's Life of Milton. 248 LIFE OF MILTON. contracted his library, both because the heirs he left could not make a right use of it, and that he thought he could sell it more to their advantage than they would be able to do themselves. His enemies reported that poverty con- strained him thus to part with his books : and were this true, it would be certainly a great disgrace, not to him? (for persons of the highest merits have been often reduced to that condition,) but to any country, that should have no more regard to probity or learning. This story, however, is so false, that he died worth fifteen hundred pounds, be- sides all his [household] goods. The house wherein he was born, and which persons used to visit [on that ac- count] before the fire, [in 1666,] was part of his estate as long as he lived. He put two thousand pounds into the Excise, which he lost when that Bank failed ; not to men- tion another great sum which was gon for want of man- agement and good advice.' He had enjoyed through life tolerable, but not uninter- rupted health. His principle disorder which troubled him most was the gout, and this at last brought him to his end. He died without much pain, the 8th of November, 1674, in the 66th year of his age. None of his biographers have preserved any account of the state of his mind in his last sickness : there can be no reasonable ground however for doubting, but that having through life " given diligence to make his calling and election sure," that in his death he did not "fall :" — '< And so an entrance was administered to him abundantly into the everlasting king- dom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ," to whose di- rection [he had scrupulously adhered, and on whose pro- mise he had steadily relied ; — "^e tliou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life." In relation to the house in which he died, Hayley says : " Soon after his marriage in 1661, he had removed from LIFE OF MILTON. 249 his house in Jewin-street to a house in the Artillery Walk, leading to Bunhill-Fields, a spot that, to his enthusiastick admirers, may appear consecrated by his genius. Here he resided at that period of his days when he was pecu- liarly entitled to veneration : here he probably finished no less than three of his most admirable works ; and here, with a dissolution so easy that it was unperceived by the persons in his bed-chamber, he closed a life, cloud- ed indeed by uncommon, and various calamities, yet en- nobled by the constant exercise of such rare endowments, as render his name, perhaps, the very first in that radiant and comprehensive list of which England, the most fertile of countries in the produce of mental power, has reason to be proud." Speaking of his funeral, Toland says, "All his learned and great friends in London, not without a friendly con- course of the vulgar, accompanied his body to the church of St. Giles, near Cripplegate, where he lies buried in in the chancel." The register is thus entered, " John Melton, gentleman, consumption, chancell, 12th No- vember, 1674." Melton has been altered into fresher ink to Milton.* " Thus Hved and died," adds Toland, " John Milton, a person of the best accomplishments, the happiest genius, and the vastest learning, which this nation, so renown'd for producing excellent writers, could ever yet show : esteem'd indeed at home, but much more honor'd abroad, where almost in his childhood he made a considerable figure, and continues to be still reputed one of the bright- est luminaries of the sciences. " He was middle-siz'd, and well-proportion'd, his de- portment erect and manly, his hair of a light brown, hia * Todd, 217. 250 LIFE OF MILTON, features exactly regular, his complexion wonderfully fair when a youth, and ruddy to the very last. " He was affable in conversation, of an equal and chearful temper, and highly delighted with all sorts of music, in which he was himself not meanly skill'd. "He was extraordinarily temperat in his diet, which was any thing most in season or the easiest procured, and was no friend to sharp or strong liqours. *' His recreations, before his sight was gon, consisted much in feats of activity, particularly in the exercise of his arms, which he could handle with dexterity : but when blindness confin'd him, he play'd much upon an organ he kept in the house, and had a pully to swing and keep him in motion. " But the love of books exceeded all his other passions. In summer he would be stirring at four in the morning, and in winter at five ; but at night he us'd to go to bed by nine partly attributing the loss of his eyes to his late watching when he was a student, and looking on this cus- tom as very pernicious to health at any time : but when he was not dispos'd to rise at his usual hours, he always had one to read to him by his bed-side. " As he look'd upon true and absolute freedom to be the greatest happiness of this life, whether to societies or single persons ; so he thought constraint of any sort to be the utmost misery ; for which reason he us'd to tell those about him the entire satisfaction of his mind, that he had constantly imploy'd his strength and faculties in the de- fence of liberty, and in a direct opposition to slavery. " He ever exprest the profoundest reverence to the Deity, as well in deeds as words ; and would say to his friends, that the divine properties of Goodness, Justice, and Mercy, were the adequat rule of human actions, nor less the object of imitation for private advantages, than of LIFE OF MILTON. 251 admiration or respect for their own excellence and per- fection. " In his early days he was a favorer of those Protest- ants then opprobriously call'd by the name of Puritans: in his middle years he was best pleas'd with the Independ- ents and Anabaptists, as allowing of more liberty than oth- ers, and coming nearest, in his opinion, to the primitive practice : but in the latter part of his life, he was not a profest member of any particular sect among Christians, he frequented none of their assemblies, nor made use of their peculiar rights in his family. Whether this proceed- ed from a dislike of their uncharitable and endless dis- putes, and that love of dominion, or inclination to persecu- tion, which, he said, was a piece of Popery inseparable from all churches ; or whether he thought one might be a good man, without subscribing to any party ; and that they had all in som things corrupted the institutions of Je- sus Christ, I will by no means adventure to determin : for conjectures on such occasions are very uncertian, and I never met with any of his acquaintance who could be positive in assigning the true reasons of his conduct. *'♦ I shall now conclude this discourse with a character given of him by a man ofunparallel'd diligence and indus- try, who has disoblig'd all sides, merely for telling the truth, either intirely, or without disguise ; and who, since most men have the frailty of ingaging in factions, cannot be suspected of partiality in favor of Milton. ' He was a person,' says Anthony Wood, in the first volume of his Athence Oxonienses, ' of wonderful parts, of a very sharp, biting, and satyrical wit ; he was a good philosopher and historian ; an excellent poet, Latinist, Grecian, and He- brician ; a good mathematician and musician ; and so rarely endow'd by nature, that had he bin but honestly principled, he might have bin highly useful to that party, 252 LIFE OF MILTON. against which he all along appear'd with much malice and bitterness.' " In Jonathan Richardson's edition of his poetical works, it is stated, " He seems to have had but little re- gard to the exterior of religion. We hear of nothing of that even in his last hours ; and whatever he did in the former part of his life, he frequented no public worship in his latter years, nor attended to any in his own little family. " He had a gravity in his temper not melancholy, and, not till the latter part of his life, not sour, morose, or ill- natured ; but a certain serenity of mind, a mind not con- descending to little things. " His fervour of mind was most ardent, but not unre- strainable when 'twas evident it could be to no good pur- pose ; for, after the Restoration, he no more engaged in the old disputes. He had given sufficient proofs of his courage in former times ; but even now he scorned to flatter power, as many did : the same honesty was seen in him ; his old principles were well known to continue ; they are seen even in Paradise Lost." It is astonishing that so much should have been made by his biographers (none of whom have been of his reli- gious principles, and therefore could not form a proper idea of his manner of life) " of his frequenting no public worship," and founding, upon that supposed^ac^, that he had no regard for religion. No one, who reads his life impartially, will hesitate a moment in concluding that he was a religious man of the highest grade of excellence ; and if they were to consider, that the sects with which he associated had but very few, if any, places of public wor- ship until 1672, meeting privately from house to house, on account of persecution, this may serve to solve the pro. blem, how such a man as the writer of " Paradise Lost" LIFE OF MILTON. 253 should not have frequented anyplace "of public wor- ship." If, indeed, by "place of public worship," is in- tended the parish churches, it is very true ; but that is no more than may be said of several millions of Britons now — the Protestant Dissenters and Methodists. And as to his not attending to any " worship in his family," it is most likely this means nothing more than that he used no prescribed form, or the " peculiar rites" of the national church. And as to his " seeming to have had but little regard to the exterior of religion in his last hours," I suppose this only means, from the pen of a churchman, that he did not send for a clergyman to give him the sacrament, and pronounce the absolution service ! His widow sold the copyright of " Paradise Lost," which had devolved upon her, to Simmons, for eight pounds. Her receipt is dated December 21st, 1680 ; and a gene- ral release from all further claim is dated April 29th , 1681.* She spent her last days at Namptwich, in Cheshire, where she was a member of the Baptist church ; and died about 1729. The following are the brief directions which Milton gave to his brother Christopher, respecting his will, about the 20th of July, 1674. " Brother, the portion due to me from Mr. Powell, my first wife's father, I leave to the unkind children I had by her ; but I have received no part of it ; and my will and meaning is they have no other benefit from my estate than the said portion, and what I have besides done for them, they having been very * Simmons covenanted to transfer the right to Rrabazon Aylmer, for twenty-five pounds. Aylmer sold half of it to Jacob Tonson, August 17th, 1683, and the other moiety, March 24th, 1690, at a price considerably ad- vanced; and twenty-eight pounds in thirteen years, was all that the poei and his widow obtained for this great work. 254 LIFE OF MILTON. undutiful to me ; and all the residue of ray estate 1 leave to the disposal of Elizabeth, my loving wife." This will was contested by his daughters, whose undu- tiful conduct it condemned : being deficient in form, it was set aside, and letters of administration were granted to the widow, who is said to have allotted a hundred pounds to each daughter. Dr. Johnson has described Milton as a cruel father, without any evidence. " Milton's youngest daughter," says Richardson, " spoke of her father with great tenderness : she said — ' he was dehghtful company, the life of the conversation, and that on account of a flow of subject, and an unaffect- ed cheerfulness and civility.' " Of the other daughters it is recorded, that Ann the eldest, with a deformed person, married an architect, and died with her first infant in child-bed. Mary, the second, died unmarried. Deborah married Mr. Clark, a weaver in Spitalfields : she died in 1727, aged seventy-six. As her family was numerous, and also poor, Addison made her a present, and Glueen Caroline presented her with fifty guineas. In the year 1750, Comus was acted at one of the theatres, as a benefit for one of Mrs. Clark's daugh- ters, Mrs. Elizabeth Forster, who had been found by Dr. Birch and Dr. Newton, two of the biographers of her il- lustrious grandfather, keeping a little chandler's shop in the city, poor, aged, and infirm. One hundred and thirty pounds were thus gained to her and her family, a husband and seven children : these all died before their mother, and by her own death it is probable the line of Milton became extinct. The sister of Milton, Anne, was married, with a consid- erable fortune, to Edward Philips, who came from Shrews- bury and rose in the crown office to be secondary : by him LIFE OF MILTOX. 255 she had two sons, John and Edward, who were educated by the poet, and from whom is derived the only authentic account of his life and manners. His brother, Christopher, " studied the law, and ad- hered," says Johnson, " as the law taught him, to the king's party, for which he was for a while persecuted ; but having, hy his brother ^s interest, obtained permission to live in quiet, he supported himself so honourably by chamber practice, that soon after the accession of King James II. he was knighted, and made a judge ; but his constitution being too weak for business, he retired, be- fore any disreputable compliances became necessary." It is wonderful Dr. Johnson had not considered that " the law taught him to adhere" to the popish king's party too! ! The following letter, copied from the original in the British Museum, which has not, I believe, till now been printed, relates to Mrs. Deborah Clark : — "Mr. George Vertue to Mr. Charles Christian." *' Mr. Christian, " Pray inform my Lord Henley that I have on Thursday last seen the daughter of Milton the poet. I carried with me two or three different prints of Milton's picture, which she immediately knew to be like her fa- ther ; and told me her mother-in-law, living in Cheshire, had two pictures of him, one when he was a school-boy, and the other when about twenty. She knows of no oth- er picture of him, because she was several years in Ire- land, both before and after his death. She was the youngest of Milton's daughters by his first wife, and was taught to read to her father several languages. " Mr. Addison was desirous of seeing her once, and desired she would bring with her testimonials of her 256 LIFE OF MILTON. being Milton's daughter. But as soon as she came into the room he told her she needed none, her face having much of the Ukeness of the pictures he had seen of him. "For my part, I find the features of her face very much like the prints. I shewed her the painting I have to en- grave, which she believes not to be her father's picture, it being of a brown complexion, and black hair, and curl- ed locks. On the contrary, he was of a fair complexion, a little red in his cheeks, and light brown, lank hair. " I desire you would acquaint Mr. Prior I was so unfor- tunate to wait on him on Thursday morning, but just after he was gone out of town. It was the intent to inquire of him, if he remembers a picture of Milton in the late Lord Dorset's collection, as I am told there was ; or if he can inform me how I shall inquire or know the truth of this affair. I should be much obliged to him, being very wil- ling to have all certainty on that account, before I proceed to engrave the plate, that it may be the more satisfactory to the public as well as myself. The sooner you communi- cate this, the better, because I want to resolve, which I can't well do till I have an answer, which will much oblige " Your friend to command, " George Vertue. " Saturday^ August I2th, 1721." In the year 1793, by the munificence of Mr. Whitbread, father of the late Samuel Whitbread, Esq. M. P. an ani- mated marble bust, the sculpture of Bacon, under which is a plain tablet, recording the dates of the poet's birth and of his decease, was erected in the middle aisle of St. Giles's church, Cripplegate, with the inscription — To tlie Author of Paradise Lost, A similar tribute of respect had been paid in 1737 by Mr. Benson, who procured his bust to be admitted into Westminster Abbey, where once his name had been considered a profanation. LIFE OP MILTON. 257 The attentive reader will have observed several pas- sages in Milton's writings, which prove him to have been, in regard to his sentiments, an orthodox Trinita- rian ; and this he had avowed himself to be in his last publication. Within the last ten years, a Latin manu- script has been discovered in the State Paper Office, bearing his name, and various internal marks of genuine- ness, which contains sentiments at variance with that opinion. By the command of his late majesty, George IV. this work was translated and published in 1825, en- titled, " A Treatise of Christian Doctrine, compiled from the Holy Scriptures alone. By John Milton. Trans- lated from the original by Charles R. Sumner, M. A.' quarto. All his religious sentiments, published by him self in his life-time, are repeated and confirmed in this treatise, excepting those chapters which treat " Of the Son of God," and ^' Of the Holy Spirit." I apprehend, had he followed, as he professes to do, " the doctrine of Holy Scripture exclusively," and have " discarded reason in sacred matters," (p. 89,) he would have arrived at a very different conclusion, than to have asserted, that the Son of God, though endued with the divine nature and substance, was yet distinct from, and inferior to, the Fa« ther, receiving from the Father every thing in his filial as well as his mediatorial character. It will be seen that these sentiments ascribe to the Son as high a share of divinity as was compatible with the rejection of his self- existence and eternal generation, and the denial of his co-equality and co-essentiality with the Father. To show how loosely he reasons upon the plain statements of in- spired truth, both of the Old and New Testament writers, I will quote his commentary on Heb. i. 8. " Unto the Son, or of the Son" he saith, " Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever. But in the next verse it follows, Thou hast 23 258 LIFE OF MILTON. loved righteousness y &lc. therefore God, even thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows, where almost every word indicates the sense in which Christ is here termed God ; and the words of Jehovah, put into the mouth of the bridal virgins, Ps. xlv. might have been more properly quoted by this writer for any other purpose, than to prove that the Son is co-equal with the Father, since they are originally applied to Solomon, to whom, as properly as to Christ, the title of God might have been given on account of his kingly power, con- formably to the language of Scripture." To say nothing of the way in which he treats an inspired author, I merely remark, how different is this statement, both as to its spirit and sentiments, to the following stanza in the " Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity," written, according to Warton, as a college exercise, at the age of twenty^ one : — "That glorious form, that light unsufferable. And that far-beaming blaze of majesty. Whereas he wont at heaven's high council-table To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside ; and here with us to be, Forsook the courts of everlasting day, And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay." His chapter " Of the Holy Spirit," for the purpose of disproving that proper divinity and distinct personality are attributed to the Spirit of God, thus concludes : — " Lest, however, any should ask who or what the Holy Spirit is, although Scripture no where teaches us in ex- press terms, it may be collected from the passages quoted above, that the Holy Spirit, inasmuch as he is a minister of God, and therefore a creature, was created, or pro- duced, of the substance of God, not by a natural ne- cessity, but by the forewill of the agent, probably before LIFE OF MILTON. 259 the foundations of the world were laid, but later than the Son, and far inferior to him. It will be objected, that thus the Holy Spirit is not sufficiently distinguished from the Son. I reply, that the scriptural expressions them- selves, to come forth, to go out from the Father, to proceed from the Father, which mean the same in Greek, do not distinguish the Son from the Holy Spirit, inasmuch as these terms are used indiscriminately with reference to both persons, and signify their mission, not their nature. There is, however, sufficient reason for placing the name as well as the nature of the Son, above that of the Holy Spirit, in discussion of topics relative to the Deity; inas- much as the brightness of the glory of God, and the ex- press image of his person, are said to have been im- pressed on the one, and not on the other," p. 171. In this statement does he not lose himself, in attempting what is said to be impossible ? '' Who can by searching find out GodV The serious reader will, it is hoped, not be led away by the influence of even Milton's name upon this all- important subject ; but be induced to search the Scrip- tures as the only authoritative tribunal. The various epithets given to the Spirit of God, as Holy, Good, &;c &;c. clearly point out his nature and operations ; while the personal pronouns by which he is described, prove that the Spirit cannot be a mere quality of the Deity, but one of the three Persons in the Godhead. With much greater pleasure than I have found in quoting the former extracts, I give a f&w from the chap- ter entitled, " Of Man's Restoration, and of Christ as a Redeemer." He says, "In this restoration are comprized, the redemption and renovation of man.'' He thus defines this subject ; " Redemption is that act where- by Christ, being sent in the fulness of time, redeemed all be- 260 LIFE OF MILTON. lievers at the price of his own blood, by his own voluntar y act conformably to the eternal counsel and grace of God the Father.'' After having insisted upon the pre-existence of Christ, as the Son of God, he says, " This incarnation of Christ, whereby he, being God, took upon him the human nature, and was made flesh, without thereby ceasing to be numeri- cally the same as before, is generally considered by theo- logians as, next to the Trinity in Unity, the greatest mys- tery of our religion. Of the mystery of the Trinity, how- ever, no mention is made in Scripture ; whereas the in- carnation is frequently called by that name." Again, in the chapter entitled, " Of the functions of the Mediator, and his threefold office,'" he remarks, " Christ's sacerdotal office is that whereby he once offered himself to God the Father as a sacrifice for sinners, and has al- ways made, and still continues to make, intercession for us.'' Many other extracts of a similar kind might have been made, but the reader, if he wishes, can consult the work for himself. It affords me real pleasure to quote with entire satisfaction the following remarks of the Bishop of Chester : " With respect to the cardinal doctrine of the atonement, the opinions of Milton are expressed throughout in the strongest and most unqualified manner. No attentive reader of Paradise Lost can have failed to remark, that the poem is constructed on the fundamental principle that the sacrifice of Christ was strictly vicarious ; that not only was man redeemed, but a real price, ' life for life,' was paid for his redemption. The same system will be found fully and unequivocally maintained in this treatise ; and much as it is to be regretted that it cannot be said, in the author's own words elsewhere of the Son of God, as delineated in the following pages, th at 'In him all his Father shone Substantially express'd." LIFE OF MILTON. 261 yet the translator rejoices in being able to state, that the doctrine of the satisfaction of Christ is so scripturally and unambiguously enforced, as to leave on that point nothing to be desired." Miltox " gloried in the cross of Christ." It will be recollected how strongly Milton, in his work on " The likeliest Means to remove Hirelings out of the Church," spoke of the unscriptural mode of paying the clergy by tithes. In this work also it is said : '' To ex- act or bargain for tithes, or other stipendary payments under the gospel, to extort them from the flock under the alleged authority of civil edicts, or to have recourse to civil actions and legal processes for the recovery of al- lowances purely ecclesiastical, is the part of wolves ra- ther than of the ministers of the gospel." Acts xx. 29. In his History of Britain, he quotes to the same effect Gildas's character of the Saxon clergy : " Subtle prowlers, pastors in name, but indeed wolves ; intent upon all oc- casions, not to feed the flocks, but to pamper and well- line themselves." It having been stated that Milton was of the Baptist denomination, the following extract is made in confirma- tion : " Under tlie gospel, the first of the sacraments com- monly .so called is baptism, wherein the bodies of believers who engage themselves to newness of life are immersed in running water, ^ to signify their regeneration by the Holy Spirit, and their union with Christ in his death, burial, and resurrection." From this statement he argues : " Hence it follows that infants are not to be baptized, inasmuch as they are in- competent to receive instruction, or to believe, or to enter into a covenant, or answer for themselves, or even to hear the word. For how can infants, who understand not the ♦There were at that time no baptisteries : the Baptists used the rivers as their fonts. 23* 262 LIFE OF MILTON. word, be purified thereby, any more than adults can re- ceive edification by hearing an unknown language ? For it is not that outward baptism, which purifies only the filth of the flesh, which saves us, hut the answer of a good con- science, as Peter testifies ; of which infants are incapable. Besides, baptism is not merely a covenant, containing a stipulation on one side, with a corresponding engagement on the other, which in the case of an infant is impossible ; but it is also a vow, and as such can neither be pronounced by infants, nor required of them. It is remarkable to what futile arguments those divines have recourse who maintain the contrary opinions." " Immersion. It is in vain alleged by those who, on the authority of Mark vii. 4, Luke xi. 38, have introduced the practice of affusion in baptism, instead of immersion, that to dip and sprinkle mean the same thing ; since in washing we do not sprinkle the hands, but immerse them." The opinions of Milton in regard to the capital doc- trine of the Trinity, as contained in this manuscript, are so utterly at variance with those on the same subject in the works published by himself, that it is difficult to con- ceive how both could have proceeded from the same pen Admitting, however, that the " Treatise of Christian Doc- trine," which is without any date, was dictated by him, (and for that conclusion there are certainly very strong reasons,) at what period of his life could it have been written ? It should seem it must have been subsequent to the publicationof his Paradise Lost in 1666 ; for were it written sooner, surely that work could not have con- tained the sublime sentiments which are applied to the Son of God and to the Holy Spirit. And yet, upon that supposition, it must consequently have been during the last eight years of his life, but then how can we account for hia having asserted in 1674, in his last work, that LIFE OF MILTON. 263 '' the doctrine of the Trinity is a plain doctrine in Scrip- ture ?" In fact, this manuscript is involved in mystery . but supposing the possibility of its genuineness, I am in- clined to adopt a remark applied to the seraphic and pious Dr. Watts, in reference to the gigantic Milton, that " he had studied the doctrine of the Trinity, as some Indian de- votees are said to have contemplated the sun, till their own sight was darkened." Affecting instances these, ofthe errors into which the most powerful minds might be led, if they are not satisfied to recieve the mysteries of the gospel, as matters to be believed upon the authority of divine inspi- ration, and not to be explained by the feeble and darkened reason of fallen nature, Happy would it have been for these two great men, had they been influenced in all their reasonings on the nature and perfections of Jehovah, by the sentiment and spirit of the following most admirable couplet : — '' Where reason fails, with all her powers, There /ati!A prevails, and love adores."* Watts. It is a very remarkable feature in the history of some of the most eminent men whom God has raised up for usefulness in his church, that they should have lived long enough to have exhibited in their old age such remarkable proofs of imbecility, as to prove that the best of men are not perfect, either in grace or in knowledge ; and that " no man should glory in men." Such men as Cranmer, and Watts, and Milton, might have been supposed to be a kind of super-human beings, not partaking of the weak- nesses and infirmities of men in general : but who that * As to the history of the finding of this manuscript in the State Paper Office, I must refer the reader to the Preface to the translation, and to Todd's Account of Milton, publiahed in 1826. 264 LIFE OF MILTON. are acquainted with the aberrations and folly which they manifested, but will unite in the truth of that trite maxim, " The best of men are but men at the best ;" or of this, " All is not good that good men do, nor wise that wise men say." Such things, whether recorded by the pen of inspiration, or of common history, are written for our learning, not for our imitation, but for our admonition, to the intent we should " trust in the Lord with all ourheart," and not to " lean to our own understanding," as they evi- dently did. In regard to matters of faith, we are taught in various ways "not to call any man master, because one is our master, even Christ." Such was my veneration for the character of Milton, before I read this " Treatise of Christian Doctrine," that I had placed him, as a theologian, in the first rank of un- inspired men : I acknowledge my high opinion of him has been greatly lowered, and I could weep over him on ac- count of his having ventured to use his pen to lower the dignity of my Divine Lord, of whom it is written, " That all men should honour the Son even as they honour the Father;" but how can that be done, without attributing to the Son the same divine attributes, honours, and wor- ship, which we pay to the Father ? No one, who has paid any serious attention to these subjects, but ought to con- fess there are as great, or greater, difficulties connected with every scheme which has been adopted to make them plain to human reason, as with that which implicitly be- lieves them. That the Son and Spirit, as well as the Father, have divine and personal perfections, and works, ascribed to them in Scripture, cannot be doubted — that the Unity of Jehovah is also plainly stated in the oracles of truth is incontrovertible — but the manner in which these three equal persons make one Jehovah, is not revealed. I consider, however, that revealed doctrines, though mys- LIFE OF MILTON. 265 teries, are to be received, because they are revealed ; and because, if they are rejected on the account of their being irreconcileable to reason, the Bible is invalidated as the sole umpire in matters of religion ; and consequently, that we are left without a standard by which to judge be- tween truth and error. I certainly should be pleased, could any one furnish irrefragable evidence that the manu- script entitled, "Treatise of Christian Doctrine," was not written by the eminent man whose ^^ superscription,^^* but not whose " image,^^ is stamped upon it. My opinion respecting the unimpeachable integrity of Milton's character, and the unequalled powers of his mind, remains unaltered : as a stern patriot, an ardent lover of his country — as an enlightened Christian, con- tending for the unalienable birthright of conscience in matters of religion — as a zealous Protestant, defending the doctrines of the Reformation, and as a genuine be- liever, " careful to maintain good works ;" I consider him as having realized and exemplified his devout wish men- tioned in a former part of this work, " As for me, MY WISH IS TO LIVE AND TO DIE AN HONEST MaN." * It deserves remark, the name of Milton prefixed, nor is the manu- script in his own hand-writing. 266 THE FOLLOWING IS COPIED FROM TOLAND'S LIFE. AN EXACT CATALOGUE OF ALL MILTON'S WORKS, IN THEIR TRUE ORDER, I. Of Reformation in England, and the Causes that hitherto have hinder'd it. In two Books : written to a Friend. ■2. Of Prelatical Episcopacy, and whether it can be deduc'd from the Apostolical Times. 3. The Reason of Church Government urg'd ajainst Prelacy. In two Books. 4. Animadversions upon the Remonstrants Defence against Smectymnuus, •'5. An Apology for Smectymnuus. 6. The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce restor'd for the Good of both Sexes. 7. Tetrachordon ; or Expositions upon the four chief places of Scripture which treat of 3Iarriage, or Nullities in Marriage. 5. The Judgment of Martin BucEB concerning Divorce. 9. Colasterion ; a Reply to a nameless Answer against the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce. 10. Of Education, to Mr. Samuel Haetlib. II. Areopagitica : a Speech for the Liberty of Unlicens'd Printing, to the Parlia- ment of England. 12. The Tenure of Kings and Magistrats, proving that it is lawful to call a Tyrant to account, and to despose or put him to death. 13. Eikonoclastes, in answer to a Book entltul'd, Eikon Basilike. 14. Observations on Ormond's Articles of Peace with the Irish, his letter to Colo- nel Jones, and on the Representation of the Presbytery of Belfast. 15. Defencio pro Populo Anglicano, or his Defence of the People of England, against Salmasics's Defence of the King. 16. Joannis Philipi Responsioad Apologiam Anonymi cujusdam. 17. Defensio secunda pro Populo Anglicano, &c. IS. Defensio pro se adversus Alexandrum Morum . 19. A Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes. 20. Considerations touching the likeliest Means to remove Hirelings out of the Church. 21. A letter to a Friend concerning the Ruptures of the Commonwealth. 22. The brief Delineation of a Commonwealth. 23. Brief Njtes on Dr. Griffith's Sermon, entitul'd. The Fear of God and the King. 24. The ready and easy Way to establish a Free Commonwealth, and the Excel- lence thereof compar'd with the Dangers and Inconveniences of readmitting Kingship in this Nation. 25. Paradise Lost. 26. Paradise Regain'd, and Sampson Agonistes. 27. Occasional and Juvenil Poems, English and Latin. 23. The History of Britain to the Norman Conquest. 29. Accedence commenc'd Grammar. 30. A brief History of Muscovy. 31. A Declaration of the Election of John HI. King of Poland. 32. Anis Logicje plenior Institutio ad Petri Rami methodum concinnata. 33. A Treatise of true Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and the best Means to prevent the growth of Popery. 34. Litterae Senatus Anglicana, &c. or Letters of State. 3.5. Epi.stolarum familiarum liber unus ; accesserunt Prolusiones qujedorn Oratoriro 267 ANIMADVERSIONS DR. JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. This most illiberal writer intimates at the commencement of his Life of Milton, that instead of writing a new life, " he might perhaps more properly have contented himself with the addition of a few notes to Mr. Fenton's, which had been previously written." It would have been well for the interests of truth had he sternly adhered to that opinion, as there perhaps never was so flagrant an in- stance of downright misrepresentation and perversion of facts, for the mean purpose of caricaturing and distorting the features of a public man, than in Johnson's Life of Milton ; a foul blot on English biogra- phy, a lasting disgrace to the man who could lend himself to such baseness. It appears to me impossible to account for the venomous attack which he has made upon this most illustrious of our countrymen, but on the supposition that he was influenced by the same malignant feel- ings and principles of Jacob's sons towards Joseph : " His brethren hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him; moved with envy they'sold him into Egypt." Dr. Johnson hated Milton, because he had published principles in regard to civil and religious liberty which Johnson was not capable of appreciating either their truth or their excellence. Did he not envy him on account of the superiority of his learning, talents, and fame? Not, it should seem, from any conscious- ness of his inferiority to him in either, but from knowing that if his own name should happen to be mentioned at the same time with Mil- ton, it would only be for the purpose of its being used as a foil to set ofFhis rival's pre-eminent knowledge and benevolence. There never was probably a more correct exemplification of Solomon's maxim than 268 ANIMADVERSIONS ON in Johnson's Life of Milton: "Anger is cruel, and wrai^ is vexa- tious ; but w^ho is able to stand before envy ?" In his first paragraph, speaking of one of Milton's progenitors, who had forfeited his estate in the times of York and Lancaster, he adds, ' Which side he took I know not ; his descendant inherited no veneration for the White Rose."* How soon his bile exudes ! The thought of popular liberty strug- gling with jure divino tyranny shakes his nerves, disturbs his spirits, so that he cannot speak even of a remote predecessor of Milton with- out an expression of his indignant hatred of the man who could ven- ture to investigate the " tenure of kings and magistrates," and to write in vindication of the execution of a monarch who had been convicted of murdering the the subjects whom he had sworn to protect ! Speaking of the brother of Milton, he adds, "And Christopher, who studied the law, and adhered as the law taught him to the king's party, for which he was awhile persecuted."t It is the common law, Dr. Johnson, that you mean ? Even that supposes that in return for the subject paying taxes for the support of royalty, he is to enjoy in return the protection of the state. It is the law of habeas corpus, which secures to all who were not villiens equal rights ? O no. Dr. Johnson must have known, that whatever blind superstition might have taught him as to passive obedience and non- resistance, that the spirit of English law taught men the love of free- dom, and that civil or religious liberty were their inalienable birth- right, though they had been robbed of it by despotic rulers. He adds. " But having, by his brother's [the poet's] interest, obtained permission to live in juiet, he supported himself so honourably by chamber practice, that soon after the accession of King James, he was knighted, and made a judge ; but his constitution being too weak for business, he retired before any disreputable compliances be.' came necessary.'''* It appears, from this sentence, that Dr. Johnson would have justi- fied the non-resistance of the seven bishops whom James the Second sent to the Tower for their contumacy. " I should not," said his po- pish majesty, " have expected this from you /" Nor should I have thought that the ultra tory, Dr. Johnson, would have considered any obedience to the command of a king a disreputable compliance. Is-not tyranny the same, whether exercised in regard to religion or civil rights? And I more than suspect, had Dr. Johnson been a judge, as * Johnson's Work^', vol vi. p. 84. t Ibid. p. 85. X lb. p, S4, DR. Johnson's life qf milton. 269 was Sir Christopher Milton, if he would not have united with James's judges, of disgraceful memory, who declared " the laios to be the king^s laws ;''^ and have justified his conduct by saying, that the laws taught him "subjection to the higher powers !" I am reminded of one law- yer of this period, who was, in his opinions, the complete opposite to Dr. Johnson. When old Sergeant Maynard waited with his congra_ tulations on William'the Third, the king remarked to him, ",You must have outlived all your cotemporaries in the law." " May it please your majesty," replied the constitutional lawyer, " and I should have outlived the laws themselves, but for the happy arrival and glo- rious success of your majesty.'- Dr. Johnson then proceeds : ='He [Milton] went to the university, with a design of entering into the church, but in time altei'ed his mind ; for he declared, that whoever became a clergyman must 'subscribe s^are, and take an oath withal, that unless he took with a con- science that could retch, he must straight perjure himself.' He thought it better to prefer a blameless silence before the office of speaking, bought and begun with the practice of forswearing. These expressions are, I find, applied to the subscrip- tion to the Articles ; but it seems more probable that they relate to canonical obe- dience. I know not any of the Articles which seem to thwart his opinions ; but the thoughts of obedience, wheiher canonical or civil, raised his indignation."* It would seem that it was Milton's refusal to subscribe ex animo to articles which he did not believe, and to canons which he dared not swear he would implicitly obey, which raised the indignation ot Dr. Johnson !" But must not the Dr. have known some of the Arti- cles which seemed to thwart his opinions? I am sure the Twentieth Article, entitled, "Of the authority of the Church," more than seemed to do so! "The Church hath power to decree rights or ceremonies, and authority in controversies of faith."t I am quite certain the Eighth Article thwarted his opinions, entitled, " Of the Three Creeds." " The three creeds, Nice Creed, Athanasius Creed, and that which is commonly called the Apostles' Creed, ought thoroughly to be receiv- ed and believed ; for they may be proved by most certain warrant of the Holy Scripture." The Twenty-third, entitled, " Of administering to the Congregation," more than seemed to thwart his opinion : — "It is not lawful for any man to take upon him the office of public preach- ing, or ministering the sacraments in the congregation, before he be * Johnson's Works, vol. vi. p. 90. t This sentence, which is the key-stone of the arch by which the Established Church is supported, was added no one knows ichen, or by whom ; but it is most likely, had it been dove-tailed on by the authorityof the queen as head of the church, eome historian or other would have mentioned it. It is not in King Edward's Ar- ticles, and I have no doubt is of surreptitious origin ! ! 24 270 ANIMADVERSIONS OM lawfully called and sent to execute the same. And those we ought to judge lawfully called and sent, which be chosen and called to this work by men who have pubUc authority given unto them in the con- gregation, to call and send ministers into the Lord's vineyard." The Twenty-seventh Article, " Of Baptism," entirely thwarted his opin- ions : — " Baptism is not only a sign of profession, and mark of differ- ence, whereby Christian men are discerned from others that be not christened; but is a sign o^ regeneration, or new birth, whereby, as an instrument, they that receive baptism rightly are grafted into the church ; the promises of the forgiveness of sins, of our adoption to be the sons of God by the Holy Ghost, are visibly signed and sealed ; faith is confirmed, and grace increased, by virtue of prayer unto God. The baptism of young children is in any wise to be retained in the church, as most agreeable with the institution of Christ." In king Edward's Articles, published in 1552, number Twenty-eight, the last clause thus reads : "The custom of the church, to christen young chil- dren, is to be commended, and in any wise to be retained in the churchy In this Article, too, the term " regeneration'''' is not used in reference to the baptism of infants ! ! I am certain the Thirty-fourth Article, entitled, " Of the Traditions of the Church," thwarted his opinions entirely: "It is not necessary that traditions and ceremonies be in all places one, or utterly alike, for at all times they have been divers, and may be changed according to the diversity of countries, and men's manners, so that nothing be or- dained against God's word. Whosoever, through his private judg- ment, wilUngly and purposely doth openly break the traditions and ceremonies of the church, which be not repugnant to the word of God, and be ordained and approved by common authority, ought to be re- buked openly, (that others may fear to do the like,) as one that offend- eth against the common order of the church, and hurteththe authority of the magistrate, and woundeth the consciences of weak brethren. * Every particular or national church, hath authority to ordain, change, and abolish ceremonies or rites of the church, ordained only by men's authority, so that all things be done to edifying.' " The last sentence in quotation marks, is not in king Edward's Article, number Thirty- three ! ! I might instance other Articles, as number Thirty-six, entitled, " Of Consecration of Bishops and Ministers ;" number Thirty-seven, en- titled, "Of Civil Magistrates." In king Edward's Article it is as- serted, " The king of England is supreme head in earth, next under Christ, of the Church of England and Ireland." In queen Elizabeth's tiR. JOHNSON*S LIFE OP MILTON, 271 it is thus stated, 'Supreme headship of the first civil magistrate next under Christ," &c. &c. and much changed ; for which alteration the reason is assigned, because the compilers say they had understood the *' fti/es" which they had attribued to the queen's majesty had " of- fended the minds of some dangerous folks," [John Fox, the martyr- ologist, Thomas Cartwright, and hundreds of godly ministers besides them, to say nothing of " the congregation of faithful men."] " The queen's majesty hath the chief power in this realm of England, Sind other her dominions, unto whom the chief government of all estates of this realm, whether they be ecclesiastical or civil, in all causes doth appertain, and is not, nor ought to be, subject to any foreign jurisdic- tion." "Where we attribute to the queen's majesty the chief govern- ment, by which titles we understand the minds of some dangerous folks to be offended : we give not to our princes the ministering either of God's word, or of the sacraments, the which thing the Injunctions also lately set forth by Elizabeth our queen, do most plainly testify ; but that only prerogative which we see to have been given always to all godly princes in Holy Scripture by God himself, that is, that they should rule all estates and degrees committed to their charge by God, whether they be ecclesiastical or temporal, and restrain with the civil sword the stubborn and evil doers."* I appeal to the candid reader, who is acquainted with the religious opinions of Milton, whether all the above Articles are not in direct opposition toto ccelo to those which he has so powerfully maintained. An ingenuous mind would instead of censuring Milton for refusing to subscribe what he did not beUeve, as, by so doing, he would have committed perjury, and that too in regard to matters of " truth, con- science, and God," have expressed regret that the Articles of the Church were so framed, and the demand of subscription so rigid, that such a good and great man as Milton should not have been able to undertake the office of minister in it, when he had gone to the univer- sity with that design! With his sentiments of religious liberty, and the inalienable right of private judgment, and the sufficiency of the Scriptures alone for all purposes of doctrine and discipline, and espe- cially of the sole headship of Jesus Christ in his church; would it not have been, I appeal to all unprejudiced minds, and even those of the Church of England, whether it would not have been for Milton to * It was not long before the prelates had an opportunity of discovering ho\r dis- creetly the queen would use this jure divino prerogative. Grlndal having expos- tulated with her majesty, requesting her to mind civil matters, and leave the eccle- siastical to the bishops, was deprived, or, as the queen elegantly expressed it, she " unfrocked him /" 27^ ANIMADVERSIONS OK have "subscribed slave," had he become a clergyman ? And was it not more honourable to his oven character, however injurious to the interests of the community at large, " to prefer a blameless silence be- fore the office of speaking, bought and begun with servitude and for- swearing ?" Dr. Johnson ought to have given him credit too for having exempted those subscribing clergymen from the charge of^cr- jitry, " ivho had consciences that could retch /" Dr. Johnson's qu^stioning the truth of Milton's statement, that the reason why he did not become a clergyman was, because he could not ex animo subscribe the Thirty-nine Articles ; but that his chief objection was to the canons, is not creditable even to his liberal- ity ! He says : "It seems more probable his objection related to canonical obodience ; tJie thoughts of obedience, whether canonical or civil, raised his indignation." The fact is, that he also objected to swear entire and uncomprom- ising obedience to the canons as well as to the Articles : he refused " to subscribe slave, and take an oath withal," to observe human reg- ulations in matters of religion. But does it follow, that because he would not voluntarily lay himself under an obligation to obey sta- tutes which he was not otherwise bound to observe, that he felt repug- nant to render the civil obedience which, as a subject, he owed to the state. Is it not perfectly compatible to object to submit to ecclesiasti- cal domination, and to render cheerful obedience to the constitutional aws? MiLTON^could distinguish, if Dr. Johnson could not. between canonical and civil obedience : he refused to submit himself to the former, but his life affords no instance of his objecting to the latter. Let us suppose that Milton, in the prospect of entering the estab- lishment, even if he had not anticipated the possibility of becoming a bishop or archbishop, yet that he might have become a dean or batchelor of divinity and laws, he would of course first read over seriously (if he could have preserved his gravity) the following : ^'^ Articles of outward apparel of persons ecclesiastical. " First, That all archbishops and bishops do use and continue their accustomed apparel, " Item, That all deans of cathedral churches, masters of colleges, archdeacons, and other dignitaries in cathedral churches: doctors, bachelors of divinity and law, having any ecclesiastical living, shall M'ear, in their common apparel, a tide gown, with sleeves straight at the hand, withoxd any cuts in the same. And that also unthout any falling cape ; and to toear tippets of sarcenet, as is lawful for them by that act of Parliament, Anno 24, Henrii Octavi. DR. Johnson's life of milton. 273 " /tern, That all doctors of physic, or of any other faculty, having any living ecclesiastical, or any other that may dispend by the church one hundred marks so to be esteemed by the fruits as tenths of their promotions'; and all prebendaries whose living's be valued at twenty pound a year or upward, wear the same apparel. " Itemj That they and all ecclesiastical persons, or other having any ecclesiastical living, do loear the cap appointed by the Injunctions, and they to v)ear no hat but in their journeying. " Item, That they in their journeying do wear their cloaks with sleeves put on, and like in fashion to their gowns, gards, welts, or cuts. "Item, That in their private houses and studies, they use their own liberty of comely apparel. ''Item, That all inferior ecclesiastical persons shall wear long gowns of the fashion aforesaid, and caps as afore prescribed. " Item, That all poor parsons, vicars, and curates, do endeavour themselves to conform their apparel in like sort, so soon and as con- veniently as their ability will serve to the same. Provided that their ability be judged by the bishop of the diocese. And if their ability will not suffer them to buy them long gowns of the form afore prescri- bed, that then they shall wear their short gowns, agreeable to the form before expressed. ''Item, That all such persons as have been, or be, ecclesiastical, and serve not in the ministry, or have not accepted, or shall refuse to accept the oath of the Glueen's Majesty, do from henceforth abroad wear none of the said apparel of the form and fashion aforesaid, but to go as mere laymen, till they be reconciled to obedience ; and who shall obstinately refuse to do the same, that they be presented by the ordinary to the commissioners in causes ecclesiastical, and by them be reformed accordingly."* Now, I respectfully ask those who know the honest and enlight- ened character of Milton, that had he been resolved "to retch liis conscience, by taking an oath withal," (which there can be no doubt Dr. Samuel Johnson, the moralist, would have recommended, as re- quired from every obedient subject to the king,) is it likely that, for the sake of obtaining a living of twenty pounds per year, (and it was not likely that such a man as Milton could have expected more un- der the archiepiscopal government of Laud,) that he would have con- sented to go " without his hat," and to " wear a short gown," that is, if the bishop of the diocese deemed he was not able, with twenty pounds a year, to buy a long one. I am fully persuaded that other * Sparrow's Articles, &c. p. 126 127. 24* ^''^ ANIMADVERSIONS ON and better reasons may be assigned, why Milton refused to "sub- cribe slave," than because "the thoughts of obediencOj" properly understood, "whether canonical or civU raised his indignation." It was not possible the noble mind of Milton could have submitted to be bound by such ignoble fetters and chains. " Canonical obedience," Milton well knew, would demand impli- cit regard to a hundred and forty-one cannons, besides seventeen passed in 1640, upon pain of being presented to " commissioners in causes ecclesiastical, and by them to be reformed accordingly," or how could he have " subscribed slave" to this engagement ? I shall not openly intermeddle with any artificers, occupations, as covetously to seek a gain thereby, having an ecclesiastical living to the sum of tic enty-six pounds, ten nobles, or above by the year." I can conjecture, too, the possibility of the honest and upright Milton refusing to " retch his conscience" to take the " Oath of Simony /" I think it probable he might have balked too, when taking deacon's orders, to answer to the following question : — " The Bishop. Will you revei'ently obey your ordinary, and other chief ministers of the church, and them to whom the government and charge is committed over you, following with a glad mind and wili their godly admonitions?"* Now would not Milton have hesitated, before he had " retched his conscience," and have " subscribed slave, and took an oath withal," to say, " I will endeavour myself, the Lord being my helper ?" — or might it not have entered his mind, " Judas got thirty pieces of sihtr for selling his master, but I am advised to sell my conscience, when it is possible I may only get in exchange for it twenty nobles a year 1" Nothing can be more evident to my mind, than that Dr. Johnson, with all his blunt and unmannerly Toryism towards Whigs, had not the ability to comprehend the essential qualities of an honourable, conscientious mind, hke that of Milton. Dr. Johnson, who doubtless hated Milton for taking part with the Parliament against the king, and had therefore hastened home from the continent to take part in the national struggle for freedom, says : " Let not our veneration for Milton forbid us to loolc, witli 8ome degree of merri- ment, on great promises and small performance ; on the man who hastens home because his contrymen were contending for their liberty, and when he reaches the scene of action, vapours away his patriotism in a private boarding-school. This is the period of his life from which all his biographers seem inclined to shrink. They are unwilling that Milton should be degraded to a schoolmaster ; but since it can- not be denied that he taught boys, one finds out that he taught for nothing, and ano- ther that his motive was only zeal for the propogation of learning and virtue ; and all tell what they do not know to be true, only to excuse an act that no wise man * Ibid p. 147. DR. JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. 275 will consider it as in itself disgraceful. His father was alive; liis allowance was not ample ; and he supplied his deficiences by an honest and useful employment." -P. 96. Notwithstanding the closing sentence of this paragraph is an affect- ed vindication of Milton from the mean slanders of his opponents ; yet what shall we say to the malignant inuendoes of Dr. Johnson as to " great promises and little performance ?" Dr. Johnson is " will- ingly ignorant" of the means by which Milton promoted the cause of civil and religious liberty. He himself thus describes his conduct : "Thinking a way might be opened to true hberty, I heartily engaged in the dispute." it to " apour away his patriotism," when he employed his pen, immediately on his return, to write his two books " On Reformaiion," against the Established Church ? — His Reply to Usher ?•— Of Prelatical Episcopacy, &c. ? — the Reason of Church Government, and other works, exposing the tyranny and corruption in Church and State ? If Dr. J. doubts whether Milton rendered any assistance to the "good cause," as it was called, let him account for it so satisfactorily, as by the admission that these writings contri- buted, more than the sword or bayonet, to all those astonishing re- sults in eight years to pull down the Star Chamber and High Com- mission Courts, to procure the abolition of the order of prelates, and the suppression of the Book of Common Prayer, and the downfall of tyranny ! So far from shrinking from this period of his life, I avow my conviction, that it was on many accounts the most splendid part of it ; because he wrote not only without the support or countenance of government, but in constant jeopardy of being the prey of Laud and his cringing sycophants. Most certainly. Dr. Johnson, Mil- ton's " patriotism" was not " vapoured away." Had it been less successful, I suspect that you would have been less malignant against him. Dr. Johnson says, speaking of a pamphlet which Milton pubUsh- ed in 1651, entitled "Considerations to remove hirelings out of the Church :" " The style of this piece is rough, and such, perhaps, was that of his antago- nist. This roughness he justifies, by great examples, in a long digression Sometimes he tries to be humourous ! ' Lest I should take him for some chap- lain in hand, some squire of the body to his prelate, one who starves not at the altar only, but at the court cupboard, he will bestow on us a pretty model of himself;' and sets me out half a dozen ptisical mottues, wherever he had them, hopping short in the measuie of convulsion fits ; in which labour Ihe agony of his wit having escaped narrowly, instead of well-sized periods, he greets ua with a quantity of thumb-ring poesies.' And thus ends this section, or rather dissection, of himself. Such," says Dr. J. " is the controversial merriment of 276 ANIMADVERSIONS ON Milton : his gloomy seriousness is yet more offensive. Such is his malignity, that hdl grows darker at his frown /" — P. 102. If any reader of Milton's works will produce any sentence equal in " maJignity" to this of the liberal^ and cheerful, and witty Dr. J., he will accomplish that which this dark, and gloomy, and serious moral- ist, has not dared to attempt. Lord Chatham said in reply to Dr. Drummond, in 1773, who had exhibited accusations against the dis- senting ministers of that period : " He who brings charges against others without proof, defames:^ I charge Dr. J. with having, in this passage, committed the crime of wilful and deliberate defamation ! Dr. Johnson has another hit at Milton : speaking of liim after 1644, " From this time, it is observed, that he became an enemy to the Presbyterians, whom he had favoured before. He that changes his party by his humour, is not more virtuous than he that changes it by his interest; he loves himself rather than truth."— P. 104. But, unfortunately for Dr. Johnson's sage' remarks, as every one knows, who knows any thing of Milton's life, he did not favour the Puritan side because they were Presbyterians, but because they took the side which himself had taken against Prelacy. Others with whom Milton was at first associated, changed their avowed principles as to the rights of conscience, and therefore he became their enemy. It would have required more than the Herculean powers attributed to Dr. Johnson by his admirers, but which, in my opinion, have been strangely overrated, to have produced the slightest shadow of proof of those assertions. Milton, as regarded his opinions on civil and reli- gious liberty, never changed his party, either from humour or self-love. In Milton's exposure of the work called Icon BasiliJce, he mention- ed a prayer taken from Sydney's Arcadia; and Dr. J., to throw the blame of hypocrisy from Charles, who was " all that was venerable and great," says : " But as faction seldom leaves a man honest, however it may find him, Mil- ton is suspected of having interpolated the book !" — P, 107. There have not been many instances of such a charge, without the shadow of evidence, and that too against one of the most honest men who ever employed his pen. No, Dr. J., Milton was incapable of such palpable meanness and lies ; he would not have been so degra- ded as to have even suspected another of such unmitigated folly and meanness ! But he has a still more grave charge against Milton, even that of venality ; as if" a bribe'"' could have blinded his eyes, even were there proof of its having been given, which there is not, Dr. J. says : — DR. Johnson's life of milton. 277 *' 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 upon ne- cessity ; 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 whieh seemed to him unlawful, should now sell his servtces and his flatteries to a tyrant, of whom it was evident he could do nothing lawful." — P. 111. Against these virulent charges let Milton himself be heard, from the work which Dr. J. calls " flatteries to a tyrant." " A Letter written to a gentleman in the country, touching the Dis- solution of the late Parliament, and the Reason thereof.* "Sir, " Yours of the 27th past came safe, and with it your ad- miration of this great change which hath happened in the dissolution of the late Parliament, which I not at all wonder at ; for as this Island hath afforded the greatest Revolutions that I think any memory can afford us, of any time or place, so I believe this to be the greatest of them : and so much the greater, as that it was done, in a manner, in an instant, without contestation, without effusiort of blood, and for any thing I can perceive, without the least resentment of those whom it generally concerns. But when I shall put you in remembrance of what I have often enforced to you, (or to say better, discoursed, for the other is needless,) that the ways o^ Providence are inscrutable, and such as though, unexpected and temararius, yet are carried on by such a strange and supreme kind of design, it will be easy for an humble and an acquiring mind to see, that by several invisible degress, they bring forth their last and proposed intendments, yea, with those in- struments which seem and intend to do the contrary. " What man could have supposed, after the dissolution of the Par- liament preceding the last, to have had another so soon ? And for this last, who could have imagined that by Act it should have con- tinued, much more gloriously have undertaken the defence of an in- jured people by open arms against an oppressor, and that these under- takings, with admirable variety of success, should have been crowned with the extirpation of tyranny, and the decollation of the person of a * London : printed by F. Leach, for Richard Baddeley, at his shop witliin the Middle Temple Gate, 1653. 27S ANIMADVERSIONS ON tyrant ; that this great Omniscience should so bless the endeavors of a Commonwealth, novi^ as I may say, in its very swaddling- clouts, as by them absolutely to reduce those dominions in three years, which a series ofproiid and lusty monarchs could not in six centurys do? Be- sides thdit navall opposition so fortunately and gloriously made against the greatest maritime enemy in Europe, or to speak with due ac- knowledgment, in the earth. Yet are these men, with all their vigor- ous and happy actions, suddenly dispersed like down blown off a thistle, and their power devolved into such hands, which as God hath made instrumentall in these strange emanations of his Divine Will, so we may humbly conceive, he intends to make further use of to the finishing of that great work, which by such visible signs he had mad appeare he hath in hand for the glory of his name, the felicity of these nations, and I believe for the blessed alteration of all Europe. " I am neither Stoick to believe that all things are limited by such a strong chain of fate, as that there is nothing left to man but mechani- cally to act ; nor yet can I resign myself to an absolute beUef of that saying of Plato, thai * To pray or fear is needless, it being out of our power to prevail by either ; but I shall modestly affirm it, that as I ever used to send up my prayers for the best things I could, upon the emergencies of the severe 11 times, so upon the breaking out and dis- covering of every hidden councill of above by some illustrious acci- dent, I have thrown my face upon the ground and submitted to it, never examining the means by which it was brought to pass, but the end to which it was brought ; for I cannot deny unto you, that I have that reverence and resignation to my great Lord and Maker, that as I be- lieve every dispensation affords to me in particular (be it bitter or be it sweet) a means of that grand consummation of felicity, which I am hereafter to endeavor and expect ; so even in politick bodies, wherein so many dear to Him are concerned, he suffers not any turn or revo- lution, but, his Omnisciency directs it, to the bettering or more happy- fying of that people. " And truly, in my apprehension, this is done at this season, and though you seem to stare at it, being unwilling to acknowledge that his hand is wise and powerful ; yet methinks it were an argu- ment worthy of an atheist, to say that irregular actions proceed from a carelessness above, than for a Christian to imagine that his designa- tions in altering the affairs of any state, should not tend to the better- ing of that state, and that that power into which he puts it, is not, in my mind, more fit and proper to manage it than that from which he took it ; forif ay?i/ fall not to the earth without his consent, I beseech DR. Johnson's life of milton. 279 you, what shall we consider of his care ia the disposition of millions of men, things of his own image, without a high disbelief and contempt of his providence. " Though I am not ignorant what some people ignorantly, or per- adventure, splenetically and maliciously say, that He may suffer such things f^or the punishment of a. people, and for their reduction : yet when I seriously consider it, that as nothing but good can flow from that pure and simple fountain of goodness, so are his ways of providence, so far as purblind we can see. He chastises private men differently from public bodies ; some that he dearly loves, he afflicts, purges and refines^ gives them heaviness for a day, that they may hereafter have an ever- lasting weight of glory. States he sometimes afflicts for their own sins, sometimes for those of their governors, but still out of his mercy considers those who are dear unto him, and searches out if there be ten good in Sodoin, which if there be, he carries them out of their cap- tivity into the land of promise. " Out of these considerations, I, for my part, humbly submit to this mysterious and sudden action ; and because I perceive you not so well satisfied with it, am content with what present reasons I can, and out of my little intelligence, and small understandings of things, to give you an account. And therefore we are to consider, First, The means of government by the last Parliament ; then the right of obedience to superior powers ; and lastly, the effects, or events, that may come upon the late change." He intimates that the Presbyterians were the most offended. "Besides," says he, "the Presbyterian party, which is merely a Jesuit in a Genevah cloak, but somewhat more unsupportable.* ' After having shown the illegal practices of some members of the Long Parliament, and the impropriety that their existence should be perpetual, he says : " And therefore, since we are in a tempest, let us come to this rock, (to speak at the harshest,) rather than perish. For you cannot conceive but the worst government in the world is infinitely better than none at all, or to speak a little closclyer, an ill government well managed, people still judging of their safety, ov liberty, or civUl advan- tages, the effects not only of their government, but rulers. " I know your objection beforehand, that the action of the Lord Generall in the Dissolution was somewhat rough and barbarous, and I shall not trouble you with a long answer. That, as to his person, as he hath in the field declared himself one of the noblest assertors of our liberty, and as great an enlarger of our territories as ever was, so 280 ANIMADVERSIONS ON as to any particular designs of his own in point o( government, it must be a something greater than human, that can discover how he either intended to invade us, or to make us a prey to any ambition of his. And therefore, if, upon this grand Revolxiiion, he might appear to his enemies passionate, yet considering the extremities that great minds fall into, and the great trust committed to him, it will appear to be nothing but the discharge of that duty that lay upon him. To have done such a thing as a single generall, wants neither example nor president, (but I would not injure an argument, by the by, which I could make good in a whole treatise.) For you may remember that of Ccesar to Metellus the Tribune : * Young man, (says he,) Hwas easier for me to say this than to do it;^ a speech, says Sir Francis Bacon, both the proudest and the mildest that ever came out of the mouth of man. For at that time he was breaking open the sacred treasury, which by the laws was not to be broken open. But it is otherwise here: this was not a rash and precipitate act of his, [Cromwell,] but a trust and result of those under him. 'Twas fit he that was most eminent should appear, and he as civilly, without noise and disturb- ance, did it. And therefore acting by their voles, and by their consents, it was their action as well as his ; and it is no more his action, than it is the action of the head moved by the tendons and muscles, which are parts of the body, and without which the head itself could not possibly at all move. " So that it here comes to a question. Whether, it be better for us to be in slavery under the name of liberty, or in liberty under the effects of slavery ? I have told my thoughts before, in what condition I thought our liberty was, and I repeat it once again, that I think this present is the better expedient. " I am no member of their councills, and by a late infirmity, lesse able to attend them ;* yet, if I can believe any thing, or understand men, when they make the clearest professions, they intend all noble things, both as to the glory of our good God, the making happy this poor nation, setthng the hberties of it, and reducing of us into one mind, and one way. But these are not only wishes of mine, but hopes and certain expectancies, and I believe they will convince these men to be liars that speak against them. But now I think I have put you to all the trials of your patience, which if my infirmity had not been, which confined me to my chamber, I could not have done ; but I rely so much on your candor, and I believe you think so well of my vera- * It will be seen from this, that he had just now lost his eye sight. DR. Johnson's life op milton. 281 city, as I want not the impudence to affirm myself, (however you take it.) "Your affectionate Servant, « N. L. L, « London, May 3, 1653." Now let the candid reader say whether this is the language of flat- tery? whether there is any thing in it which contradicts any of his sentiments on former or later occasions ? whether there is any proof of his having sold his services to a tyrant, because he " tasted of the honey of pubUc employment, and would nt)t return to hunger and philosophy?" Why, though Milton's office as Latin Secretary tc the Council of State was most honourable, he did not receive more than two hundred a year it is said j not greatly superior to Dr. John- son's pension, for which he rendered no services to the commonwealth. Whatever difficiUties Milton might have felt in reconciling this bold step of Cromwell and his Council of Officers, with the rights which the Long ParUament had received by the consent of the late king not to be dissolved but by their own consent, it is evident he considered it a choice of difficulties, whether tyranny should be exercised under thf' title of Parliament or of Protector : he thought, whether justly or not that the people would have more liberty, and less slavery, under the latter than the former ; and that even the government of the army was to be preferred to an inefficient power, which could protect the interests of the whole community. Speaking of Milton's Latin Defence of the People of England, published in 1652, Dr. Johnson says : " In his Second Defence, he shows that his eloquence is not merely satirical : tlie rudeness of his invective is equalled by the grossness of his flattery. Csesar, when he assumed the perpetual dictatorship, had not more servile and elegant flattery. A translation may show its servility, but its elegance is less attainable. Havint exposed the unskilfulness or selfishness of the formf;r government, 'We are left,' says Milton, 'to ourselves^ the whole national interest fell into your 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, and 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 does every good man hail you with sincere and voluntary praise."— p. 113. Now, I ask whether there is any appearance of servility or flattevh in this euloffium of Cromwell ? Is it not the truth? Could he have ^ 25 .^.tX 2055 ANIMADVERSIONS ON ventured to say so much of the Protector's qualities of Hiind, had it not been conceded by " every good man" in the country ? Dr. J., in his dictionary, defines servility to be " meanness, dependence, base- ness ;" and flatto-y to be "false praise, artful obsequiousness:" I ap- peal to every candid mind, whether his malignant heart has enabled him to convict Milton of either of those mean vices ? The noble- minded Paul said, " They laid many false and grievous things to my charge, which they could not prove !" What is there either mean, or base, or indicating dependence ? What of false praise or artful obse- quiousness ? No, no. Dr. Johnson : you might have found evidence had you been sufficiently impartial to have made the honest scrutiny, o{ servility and flattery much nearer home ! But Dr. Johnson has not yet expended all his venom. He says : •= As secretary to the Protector, he is supposed to hare written the Declarations of the Reasons of a War with Spain. His agency was considered of great impor- tance ; for, when a treaty with Sweden was artfully suspended, the delay was pub- licly 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! "—P. 114. And vi^ill the reader believe it, that this M'itty sentence of puerile do- tardism all rests upon the following unimportant fact, stated in White- lock '^s Memorials : " May, 1656. The Swedish ambassador again complained of the delays in business, and that when he had desired to have the articles of his treaty put into Latin, according to the custom in treaties, that it was fourteen days they made him stay for the translation, and sent it to one Mr. Milton, a blind man, to put them into Latin, who he said must use an amanuensis to read it to him, and that amanuensis might publish the matter of the articles as he pleased ; and that it seemed strange to him, there should be none but a blind man capable of putting a few Articles into Latin. The employment of Mr. Milton was excused to him, because several other servants of the Council fit for that employment were then absent." The malevolent feelings cherished towards Milton appear in the following paragraph : it is founded upon a few lines at the com- mencement of the Seventh Book of Paradise Lost. " Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole, More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchang'd To hoarse or mute, though/alien on evil days, On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues, In darkness and withdangers compass^dround^ And solitude : yet not alone, while thou Visit'st my slumbers nightly, or when morn Purples the east." DR. JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. 283 One might have expected that the situation of Milton, reduced to blindness, and left in widowhood, would have called forth, even from Dr. Johnson, the expression of sympathy, at least have prevented his heaping upon him the contumelious charges of " ingratitude," and ■*' injustice," the " asperity of reproach, and the brutality of insolence," " Milton being now cleared," says Dr. J., "from all effects of his disloyalty, had nothing required from him but the common duty of living in quiet, to be rewarded with the common right of protection ; but this, which, when he sculked from th g approach of the king, was perhaps more than he hoped, seems not to have satisfied Mm: for no sooner is he safe than he finds himself in danger, _/aZZen on evil tongues, and with darkness and with danger compassed roicnd. This dark- ness, had his eyes been better employed, had undoubtedly deserved compassion; but to add the mention of danger was ungrateful and unjust He was fallen Indeed on evil days : the time was come when regicides could no longer boast their wick- edness. But of evil tongues for Milton to complain, required impudence at least equal to his other poweis; Milton, whose warmest advocates must allow, that he never spared any severity of reproachj or brutality of rudeness." — P. 135. My opinion is, that there is nothing in any of Milton's works •which will justify any of the above charges, even were they stripped of the foul-mouthed epithets by which they are ornamented and strengthened ; nothing equal in " impudence," " asperity," or " bru- tality," to this passage from the modest, calm, and classical pen of Dr. Johnson. The charge against Milton, of "scuZfcmg: from the approach of the king," might have been brought, with equal propriety, against the Apostle Paul, when, for the purpose of preserving himself from being apprehended by Aretus the king, he consented to be let down over the wall of the city in a basket] Was this prudent pre- caution to secure his liberty, and probably his life, to have been a sculker, one who hid himself for shame or mischief? " Richardson says, in his Notes on the above Unes, p. 291, " This is explained by a secret piece of history, for which we have good au- thority. Paradise Lost was written after the Restoration, when Mil- ton apprehended himself to be in danger of his life. First from pub- lick vengeance, (having been deeply engaged against the royal party) and when safe by a pardon, from private malice and resentment. He was always in fear ; much alone, and slept ill ; when restless, he would ring for the person who wrote for him, (which was his daugh- ter commonly,) to write what he had composed, which sometimes flowed with great ease." The following paragraph is not quoted for its malignity, but its in- accuracy. Speaking of " Paradise Regained," Dr. Johnson says : "lie could not, as Elioood relates, endure to hear Paradise Lost preferred to Paradise Regained.^' — P. 141, t84 ANIMADVERSIONS ON JVoiy, Elwood relates nothing like it I Yet, upon this mitake, ths- Dr. makes these remarks : " Many causes may vitiate a writer's judgment of his own works. On tiiat winch has cost him much labour he sets a high value, because he is unwilling to think he has laboured in vain. What ie produced with toilsome efforts is considered with delight, as a proof of vigorous facuUies and fertile invention; and the last work, whatever it be, has necessarily most of the grace of novelty. Milton, however it happened, had this prejudice, and had it to himself."— P. 141. Dr. Johnson, speaking of his last work, says : " His polemical disposition again revived. He had now been safe so long that he forgot his fears, and published ' A Treatise of true Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and the best Means to prevent the growth of Popery.' But ^his little work is modesty written, with respectful mention of the Church of England, and an appeal to the Thirty-nine Articles. His principle of toleration is, agreement in the sufficiency of the Scriptures ; and he extends it to all who, whatever their opinions are, profess to derive It from the sacred books. The Papists appeal to other testimonies, and are therefore, in his opinion, not to be permitted the liberty of either publick or private worship ; for though they plead conscience, ' ff^e have no warrant,^ he says, ' to regard conscience, which is not grounded in Scripture.'' Those who are not convinced by his reasons, may be perhaps delighted with his wit. ' The term Roman Catholick is,' he says, ' one of the Pope's Bulls : it is particular, universal, or catholick schismatick.' He has, however, something better. As the best preservative against Poperj', he recommends the diligent perusal of the Scriptures, a duty from which he warns, 'he busy part of mankind not to think themselves excused." — p. 142. One would almost think that the " respectful mention" made by Milton of the Church of England, and " the appeal to the Thirty- nine Articles," were such an atonement for all his former misdeeds in having exposed the errors of its constitution, and the pride of its bish- ops, that even the implacability of Johnson's mind had been placated, and liis fierce wrath removed. What he has said upon those topics ts as follows: " With good and pious reasons, therefore, all Protestant churches, with one'consent, and particidarly the Church of England, in her Thirty-nine Articles, and elsewhere, maintain these two points, as the main principles of true rehgion, that the rule of true religion is the word of God only, and that their faith ought not to be an implicit faith ; that is to beheve though as the church beheves, against or without express authority from Scripture." In confirmation of this statement, he refers to the Sixth Article, entitled, "Of the sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures for Salvation." The Nineteenth, entitled "Of the Church ;" and the Twentieth, in so far, of course, as it relates to his subject, viz. " It is not lawful for the church to ordain any thing contrary to God's word written, neither may it so expound one place DR. JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. 285 of Scripture, that it be repugnant to another," &c. That Milton ■should have appealed in his old age, and respectfully too, to the Arti- cles of the Church of England, simply on the ground of her Protes- tantism, is not at all at variance with hiw" attacks upon her prelates, for their persecuting other Christians, when he wrote his immortal expo- sures of those things in which, notwithstanding her professed Refor- mation, she resembled the Church of Rome. But Dr. Johnson either could not, or would not see, the difference of his expressing his ap- probation of those principles which are purely Protestant, when writing against Papists ; and the reasons which he assigned why he could not ex animo subscribe to other things in the same articles which he considered to be as unscriptural as similar ones in the Church of Rome : there is a -very wide difference between writing freely of her excellencies, and " subscribing slave," with an oath into the bargain, to her acknowledged defects. Dr. Johnson will not suffer his ashes to rest undisturbed : — " His widow, who after his death retired to Namptvvich in Cheshire, and died about 1729, is said to have reported that he lost two thousand pounds by en- trusting it to a scriviner ; and that in the general depredation upon the churchy he had grasped an estate of about sixty pounds a year, belonging to Westmin- ster Abbey, which, like other shares of the plunder of the rebellion, he loas after- wards obliged to return.''^ — P. 145. And so. Dr. Johnson, because his widow " is said to have reported''' this strange story, yuu have thought fit to give it the sanction of your authority that " he took a share in the plunder of rebellion !" Would any man, who had a grain of modesty, have made such a spiteful charge, without better evidence than that of his widow having reported, " it is said, he had grasped an estate of about sixty pounds a year, be- longing to Westminster Abbey !" Dr. Johnson, in the following remarks, has not perhaps mixed up so large a portion of his gall, though he has fallen into the common errors of all his biographers ; who have concluded, that because he was not seen in the street going to church with a prayer-book under his arm, and because he did not ring a bell to call his household to family prayer, have concluded that he never worshipped God either publicly or privately ] ! " His theological opinions," says Dr. J. " are said to have been first Calvin- istical ; and afterwards, perhaps, when he began to hate the Presbyterians, to have tended towards Arminianism. In the mixt questions of theology and go- vernment, he never thinks he can recede far enough from popery or prelacy ; but whatBandius says of Erasmus seems applicable to him, magis habuit quod fugeret, quam quod sequeretur. He had determined rather what to condemn, 25* 286 ANIMADVERSIONS ON than what to approve. lie had not associated himself with any denomination of Protestants ; we know rather what he was not, than what he was. He was not of the Church of Rome ; he was not of the Church of England."— p. 147. But there were a vast many Protestant congregational churches, with which he might have associated himself, and I doubt not but he did, at least as a devout worshipper, though he has not left any record of his having done so. The fact is, that as to the peculiar principles of the Baptists, he was associated with them : he was reckoned among them in 1644, at which time there were of Calvinists at least seven separate congregations. I know not to which of these he belonged ; but I think it fair to conclude, he was known to have united himself to one of them, or how could Dr. Featly have attributed his Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce to the Baptists ? As to his principles of church government, they were congregational ; and these are held equally by Baptists and Independents. In 1661, we find Ephraim Pagit reckoning him as an Independent, which he w ould not have done, had he not been known to belong to those whom Pagit consid- ered sectaries. I suppose he was not a member of any congregational church after the early period of his life ; as 1 conjecture he might have been excluded from the Baptist church, for having pubhshed, in his work on * The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce,' principles which would procure the expulsion of even a Milton now, and which nothing but a public retractation of them would be sufficient to pro- cure liis being restored. Dr. Johnson, having laid the foundation of his remarks on the sand proceeds to erect a castle in the air. " To be of no church is dangerous. Religion, of which the rewards are dis- tant, and which is animated only by Faith and Hope, will glide by degrees out of the mind, unless it be invigorated and reimpressed by external ordinances, by stated calls to worship, and the salutary influence of example."— p. 147. This well applies to the form of " godliness," the only religion of which it appears Dr. J. knew any thing ; but not to " the power of godliness," respecting his knowledge of which, Milton, by his writ- ings, and by his holy Ufe, has afforded abundant evidence. Dr. J, proceeds : " Milton, who appears to have had full conviction of the truth of Christian- ity, and to have regarded the Holy Scriptures with the profoundest veneration, to have been untainted by any heretical opinions, and to have lived in a con- firmed belief of the immediate and occasional agency of Providence, yet grew old without any visible worship- In the distribution of his hours, there was no hour of prayer, either solitary or with his household : omitting publick prayer, he omitted aW."— p- 147. DR, JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. 287 Were there ever such gratuitous assertions and charges of atheism preferred upon such groundless suppositions ? I admit that he " omitted the pubhck prayers" of the EstabUshed Church : he did not say after the priest, either in the petitions of the Liturgy, or the sub- lime chantings of the cathedral service ; but is this a sufficient ground for the conclusion, that therefore "he omitted all prayer to God ?" I doubt not but Dr. Johnson must have been acquainted with literary men among the Protestant dissenters, whom even he would not have placed with atheists. And as to his not having " any hour for solitary prayer," how was that to be ascertained ? He might, if I may be forgiven the solecism, have enjoyed solitary prayer in the midst of his secular employments, or his intercourse with his friends and family. Would Dr. J. have excluded all those who belong to the Society of Friends from the character of Christian, because they have in their families " no hour of prayer, either solitary or with their household ?" Would he have said of William Penn, or Richard Reynolds, not to mention many besides, who have blessed the world with their patriot- ism and philanthropy, that " omitting publick prayers, they omitted all." But let us hear this inconsistent dogmatizer declaim further on a subject of which he was not capable of forming a correct idea : " Of this omission, the reason has been sought upon a supposition which ought never to be made, that men live with their own approbation, and justify their conduct to themselves. Prayer certainly was not thought superfluous by him, who represents our first parents as praying acceptably in the state of inno- cence, and efficaciously after the fall. That he lived without prayer can hardly be affirmed : his studies and meditations were an habitual prayer. The neglect of it in his family was probably a fault for which he condemned himself, and which he intended to correct, but that death, as too often happens, intercepted his reformation !"— p. 148. If this language be applied to the pious and evangelical Milton, it is arrant nonsense : if it be considered the ebullitions of the accusing conscience of the formal and pharisaical Johnson, it will probably appear correct. Let the reader judge, from the two following quotations from Par- adise Lost, whether Miltqn undervalued spiritual, evangelical prayer ; " Thus at their shady lodge arrived, both stood, Both turn'd, and under open sky adored That God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven, Which they beheld, the moon's resplendant fi;lohe, And starry sky. Thou also mad'st the night, Maker Omnipotent ANIMADVERSIONS ON This said, unanimous, and other rites Observing none, but adoration pure, Which God hkes best, into their inmost bower Handed they went." " So spake our father penitent, nor Eve Felt less remorse : they forthwith to the place Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell Before him reverent, and both confess'd Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign Of sorrow unfeign'd, and humiliation meek. * * ♦ * Thus they in loveliest plight repentant stood Praying, for from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had removed The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead, that sighs now breathed Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer Inspired, and wing'd for heaven with speedier flight Than loudest oratory." {End of the Tenth, and beginning of the Eleventh Books.) Let us hear Dr. J. on another part of Milton's character : "His political notions were those of an acrimonious and surly republican, fov which it is not known that he gave any better reason, than that a popular govern- ment was the most frugal ; for the trappings of a monarchy would set up an ordi- nary commonwealth. It is surely very shallow policy, that supposes money to be the chief good; and even this without considering that the support and expense of a court is, for the most part, only a particular kind of traffick,by which money is circulated without any national impoverishment."— P. 14.8. It is true that Milton has pleasantly assigned the reason quoted by Johnson ; but that he never gave a better is a most silly statement, and I appeal to his writings as my proof. And must it not have been " very shallow" casuistry, to have inferred from his notions of a repub- lican government being the most economical, that his notions were those of an acrimonious and surly republican ? No, Dr. J. ; he cer- tainly objected to monarchy and to an oligarchy , but he would not have objected to an aristocracy, as being, in some cases, to be preferred to a democracy. Nor was he " surly" or " acrimonious :" let him bo placed in contrast with the siniling and milk-of-hwnan kindness Dr. J., and then let the world judge which of them deserved the application of DR. JOHNSON'S LIFE OF MILTON. 289 these offensive terms, the moderate republican, or the ultra supporter of jure divino monarchy ! But Dr. J. has not done with Milton yet : his abihty for abusing a republican was pre-eminent ; nor has he ceased till he has expended all the poisoned arrows of his quiver at the object of his malignity. " Milton's republicism was, I am afraid, founded in an envious liatred of great- ness, and a sullen desire of independence, in petulence impatient of control, and pride disdainful of superiority. He hated monarchs in the state, and prelates in the church ; for he hated ail whom he was required to obey. It is to be suspected, that his predominant desire was to destroy rather than establish, and that he felt not so much the love of liberty, as repugnance to authority." — P. 148. To repel these malignant assertions, unsupported by the least proof, would be "to answer a fool according to his folly," and I should ap- pear " a fool like unto him." I shall therefore adopt the language of the Psalmist, and say, " What shall be done unto thee, and what shall be given to thee, thou false tongue !" Again, says Dr. J. " It has been observed, that they who most loudly clamour for liberty, do not most liberally grant it. What we know of Milton's character in domestic relations is, that he was severe and arbitrary. His family consisted of women ; and there ap- pears something like a Turkish contempt of females, as subordinate and inferior be- ings. That his own daughters might not break the ranks, he suffered them to be depressed by a mean and penurious education. He thought women only made for obedience, and men only for rebellion."— P. 149. How far the publications of Milton, to prove he had the right to put away his wife, because she was not of an amiable, uniting temper, may support the above caricature, let the read*5r judge. I have given my opinion that he was erroneous in his principles, and unwise in his conduct on that subject. That he has treated females with a sort of " Turkish contempt, as subordinate and inferior beings," Dr. J., one is ready to think, must have been conscious that he was uttering a malicious falsehood : no one can produce the passages from his work which afford a shadow of evidence in support of the calumnious char- ges. Speaking of his death, Dr. Johnson admits, with great impar- tiality, " His funeral was very splendidly and numerously attended." How could this have been, sapient Sir, if Milton was the domestic monster, and the public, restless barbarian, which you have represent- ed him to be? An unbought funeral train of mourners is about as good a test of the real character of any person as can be supplied ! And Dr. J. knew, if he would have stated, that no one was more esteemed in life, or lamented at death, than Milton, by that class of society, whether in higher or more humble life, whose approbation is worth enjoying. One word more from Dr. J. " Upon his grave there 290 ANIMADVERSIONS ON is supposed to have been no memorial ; but in our time a monument has been erected in Westminster Abbey — To the Authw of Paradise Lost — By Mr. Benson, who has, in the inscription, bestowed more words upon himself than upon Milton." — P. 143. " When the inscription for the monument of Philips, in which he was said to be soli Miltoni secundus, was exhibited to Dr, Sprat, then Dean of Westminster, he refused to admit it; the name of Milton was, in liis opinion, too detestable to be read on the wall of a building dedicated to devotion."— P. 143. And there is no doubt but what Dr. J» thought the sacred walls o Westminster Abbey would have been desecrated by the odious and execrable name of the author of Paradise Lost. He says : "Atterbury, who succeeded hira, being author of the inscription, permitted its reception. ' And such is the change of publick opinion,' said Dr. Gregory, from whom I heard this account, ' that I have seen erected in the church, a statue of that man whose name I once knew considered as a pollution of its walls !' "—P. 143. Was there ever any thing so unaccountable, that after prejudice had time to remove the film from the eye of the public, that it should have seen excellencies in the character of Milton which the purbUnd, bat's-eyes of Dr. Gregory and Dr. Johnson could never discover ; but " none are so blind as those who won't see !" I consider that Johnson's Life of Milton is a disgrace to the "Lives of the Poets." And that instead of having tarnished the lustre of Milton's character, he has erected a permanent monument to his ho- hour and reputation, as a pubUc spirited, noble minded Briton, the consistant and fearless defender of civil and religious liberty — unbribed and iinpensioned ! Johnson has by writing it deserved, if not a monu- ment, yet a flat stone to his own memory, on which may be inscribed, ^* Sacred to the memory of a mean detractor of virtue which he would not appreciate, of principles he could not comprehend, and of piety which he did not imitate — the contracted Tory pensioner, dictionary compiler, high-church bigot, and semi-popish reviler, Dr. Samuel Johnson !" 291 ROYAL PROCLAMATION. No. II. " By the King :" [The Royal Arms prefixed.] " A Proclamation, for calling in and suppressing of two books by John Milton ; the one entitled, Johannis Mittoni Angli pro Populi Jinglicano Defensio^ contra Claudii Anonyani alias Sahnasii Defensiorum Regiam; and the other in answer to a book entitled, The Portraiture of his Sacred Majesty in his Solitude and Sufferings ; and also a third book entitled, The Obstructors of Justice, written by John Goodwin, " Charles R. " Whereas John Milton, late of Westminster, in county of Middlesex, hath published in print two several books, [repeating the titles as above,] in both which are contained sundry treasonable pas- sages against us and our government, and most impious endeavours to justifie the horrid and unmatchable murther of our late dear father of glorious memory. " And whereas John Goodivin, late of Coleman Street, London, Clerk, hath also published in print a book entitled, The Obstructors of Justice, written in defence of his said late majesty, and whereas the said John Milton and John Goodwin are both fled, or so obscure themselves, that no endeavours used for their apprehension can take effect, whereby they might be brought to legal trial, and deservedly receive condign punishment for their treasons and offences. " Now to the end that our good subjects may not be corrupted in their judgments, with such wicked and traitorous principles, as are dispersed and scattered throughout the forementioned books, we, upon the motion of the Commons in parliament now assembled do hereby straightly charge and command all and every person and persons whatsoever, who live in any city, borough, or town incorporate, within this our kingdom of England, and dominion of Wales, and town of Berwick upon Tweed, in whose hands any of these books are, or hereafter shall be, that they, upon pain of our high displeasure, and the consequence thereof, do forthwith, upon publication of this our command, or within ten days immediately following, deliver, or cause the same to be delivered, to the mayor, bailiff, or other chief offcer or magistrate," &c. [Then follow orders to seize upon such books, and to prevent their being reprinted or circulated.] " Given at our Court at Whitehall, the 13th day of August, in the twelfth year of our reign, 1660. " London, printed by John Bill and Christopher Barker, Printers to the King's Most Excellent Majesty, 1660." 292 ROYAL PROCLAMATION. No. III. Extract from a ivork, entitled, " Some account of the Life and Writings of John Milton, by the Rev. John Henry Todd, JVI. *4. F. Jl. S. Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty. Derived principally from Documents in his Majesty'' s State Paper Office. J^ow first published, 1826. The following is copied from Section III. of the above work, p. 107. The book of Orders of Council of State, during the usurpation, found in his Majesty's State Paper Office, presents the poet addressed by a Committee, appointed for the purpose of inviting him into office about six weeks after the martyrdom of the king. " 1648—9. March 13. Ordered, That Mr. Whitelocke, Sir Henry Vane, Lord Lisle, Earl of Denbigh, Mr. Martyn, Mr. Lisle, or any two of them, be appointed a Committee to consider what alliances the crown hath formerly had with Forreigne States, and what those States are ; and how farr they should be continued, and upon what grounds ; and in what manner applications and addresses should be made for the said continuance. " That it be referred to the same Committee to speake with Mr. Mil- ton, to know if he will be employed as Secretary for the Forreigne Tongues, and to report to the Councill. " 1648-9. — March 15. Ordered, That Mr. John Milton be employ- ed as Secretary for Forreigne Tongues to this Councill, and that he have the same salarie, which Mr.Wickerly formerly had for the same service. " 1648-9.— March 22. Ordered, That the letters now read, to be sent to Hamburgh, in behalf of the company of Merchant Adventur- ers, be approved, and that they be translated into Latin by Mr. Milton. " 1649.— March 26. Ordered, That the letters now brought in by Mr. Milton, to the Senate of Hamburgh, be approved ; and that Mr. Isaac Lee, Deputy of the Company of Merchant Adventurers there, shall be appointed Agent for delivering them. 1649.— March 26. Ordered, That Mr. Milton be appointed to make some observations upon a paper lately printed called " Old and JVcio Chains:'* " 1649.— March 28. Ordered, That Mr. Milton be appointed to make some observations of interest, which is new amongst the several designers against the peace of the Commonwealth, and that it be * John Lilburn was the author of this book, and was on account of it committed to prison on the suspicion of high treason, Jutlge Jenkins used to say of him in re- gard to his litigious disposition, that if the world was emptied of all but .Tohn Lil- burn, Lilburn would quarrel with John, and John would quarrel with Lilburn. EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. 293 made ready to be printed, with the papers out of Ireland, which the House hath ordered to be printed. " 1649.— May 18. Ordered, That the French letters, given into the House by the Dutch Ambassadors, be translated by Mr. Milton j and the rest of the Letters now in the House, be sent for and transla- ted. " 1549,_May 30. Ordered,'That Mr. Milton take the papers forth- with to Mr. John Lee, and examine them to see what may be found in them. " 1649. — June 23. Ordered that Mr. Milton doe examine the pa- pers of Prag-mrtftcws,* and report what he finds in them to theCouncill. « 1649.--Novembor 12. Ordered, That Sir John Hippesly be spoken to, that Mr. John Milton may be accommodated with those lodgings that he hath at Whitehall. " 1649.— November 19. Ordered, That Mr. Milton shall have the lodgings that were in the hands of Sir John Hippesly, in White- hall, for his accommodation as being Secretary to the Councill for Forreigne Tongues. " 1649.— November 29. Ordered, That a letter be written to the Commissioners of the Customs, to desire them to give order, that a very strict search may be made of such ships as come from the Ne- therlands for certaine scandalous bookes ; which are there printed, against the government of this Commonwealth, entitled Defencio Re- gia, and which are designed to be sent over hither ; and to desire them that if any upon search shall be found, that they may be sent up to the Councill of State, without suffering any of them to be otherwise disposed of upon any pretence whatever. " That a warrant be directed to the Masters and Wardens of the Company of Stationers, to the purpose aforesaid. " That the like letter be directed to Mr. Thomas Bendish, an officer in the port of Yarmouth, to take care of searching for the aforesaid book, which is expected to come out of Holland. " 1649-50. — January 8. Ordered, That one hundred pounds be paid Mr. Thomas Waring, for his pains and charge in compihng a booke containing several examinations of the Bloody Massacre in Ireland. " That Mr. Milton doe confer with some printers or stationers concerning tlie speei._, printing of this book, and give an account of what he hath done therein to the Councill. * The Mercurius Pragmaticus, a newspaper in support of Charles the Second April 24, 1649. 26 294 EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. if . . '^'^hat Mr. Milton doe prepare something in answer to the boofc •>of Sahiiasius, and when he hath done itt, biing itt to the Councill. " 1651. — May 20. Ordered, That Mr. Durie doe proceed in trans- lating Mr. Milton's book, written in answer to the late King's booke ; and that it be left to Mr. Frost to give him such reward for his pains, as he shall think fitt. " 1650. — June 22. Ordered, That Mr. Milton doe goe to the Committee of the Armie, and desire them to send to this Councell the book of Examinations, taken about the risings in Kent and Essex. " 1650. — June 25. Ordered, That Mr. Milton doe peruse the Examinations taken by the Armi« concerning the insurrections in Essex ; and that he doe take heads of the same, to the end the Coun- cill may judge what is to be taken into consideration. " 1650.— June 26. Ordered, That the declaration of the Parliament against the Dutch, be translated into Latine by Mr. Milton, into Dutch by Mr. Haak,* and into French by Monsieur Augier. " 1650.— August 14. Ordered, That Mr. Thomas Goodwin, Mr. Bifield, Mr. Bond, Mr. Nye,'Mr. Durye, Mr. Frost, or Mr. Milton, or any three of them, of which Mr. Frost, or Mr. Milton to be one, be appointed to view and to inventorie all the words, writings, and papers whatsoever, belonging to the Assembly of the Synod, to the end they may not be embezzled, and may be forthcoming for the use of the Commonwealth. " 1650. — December 23. Ordered, That Mr. Milton doe print tlie Treatise which he hath written, in answer to a late book written by Salmasius against the proceedings of the Commonwealth."! It has been said, but erroneously there is no doubt, that Milton received from the Councill £1000 for writing this book. I have ex- pressed a doubt, in a former part of this work, as to the accuracy of this statement, and it is confirmed by the following entry: — " 1651. — June 18. Ordered, That thanks be given to Mr. Milton on behalf of the Commonwealth, for his good services done in writing an answer to the booke of Salmasius, written against the proceedings of the Commonwealth of England." ' But,' says Mr. Todd, ' all this is crossed over, and nearly three lines following obliterated, in which the accurate Mr. Lemon says a grant of money was made to Milton.' Admitting this to be the fact, is it not reasonable to conclude that Milton refused to accept the grant, because after the cancelled pas- sage, the regular entry thus follows : " The Councill, taking notice of the manie good services performed by Mr. John Milton, the * This learned man translated the first six books of Paradise Lost into High Dutch. t Milton's book was burnt at Paris and Toulouse- EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. 295 Secretarie for Forreigne Languages, to this State and Common weklth, particularUe for his book in vindication of the Parliament and people of England, against the calumnies and invectives of Salmasins, have thought fitt to declare their resentment and good acceptance of the same ; and that the thanks of the Councill be returned to Mr. Milton, and their sense expressed in that behalf." To return to the regular entries : " 1650-51. — ^February 10. Ordered, That the way of meeting with the Pubhque Minister of Portugall, be by a Committee of the Coun- cill, consisting of such a number as the Councill shall think fitt in reference to the quality of such Minister. " That Mr. Milton, the Secretarie for Forreigne Languages, bee appointed to attend the Committee at their meetings ; and that Joseph Frost be employed for such writing as the Committee shall have oc- casion for in this business. "1650.— Feb. 18. Ordered, That Mr. Milton be Secretary for Forreigne Languages, for the time of the Councill. " 1650-51. — March 5. Ordered, that it be referred to the Commit- tee of Examinations, to vievve over Mr. Milton's booke,* and give order for re-printing it, if they thinke fitt. " 1652.— Nov. 15. Ordered, that it be referred to Mr. Thurloe, to consider of a fitt reward to be given to Mr. Durie, for his pains in translating into French the book written by Mr. Milton, in answer to that of the late king's, entitled ' His Meditations.' " 1653. — April 1. Ordered, that the Commissioners of the Customs doe permit certain books written by Mr. Milton, in answer to the booke called the late king's, being translated into French, to bee transported into France custom free." We now return to the period immediately subsequent to the publi- cation of Milton's leonoclastes. ^' 1649-50.— Feb. 2. Ordered, that orders be sent to Mr. Baker, Mr. Challenor, Mr. Wickerlyn, Mr. WilHngham, or any others who have in their hands any public papers belonging to the Commonwealth, to deliver them to Mr. Milton, to be layd up in the paper-office for publique service ; and that Mr. Baker be appointed to order those papers, that they may be ready for use. "1649-50.— Feb. 18. Ordered, that Mr. Milton, Secretary for Forreigne Languages ; Sergeant Dunde, Sergeant-at-Arms ; Mr. Frost, the younger, assistant to Mr. Fro^t, the Secretary, and all the clerks formerly employed under Mr. Frost, as also the messengers, Send all other officers employed by the Councill last yeare, and not *The leonoclastes. Second Edition. 296 EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. dismissed, shall be again entertained with the same employments, and shall receive the same salary which was appointed them the yeare past. " 1649-50.— Feb. 23. Memorandum, that Mr. John Milton, Secretary for the Forreigne Languages ; Mr. Edward Dendie, Ser- geant-at-Arms, and Mr. Gwalter Frost, the younger, assistant to the Secretary, did this day take the engagement following: 'I being nominated by this Councill to bee, for the yeare to come, do promise in the sight of God, that through his grace I will be faithful in the performance of the trust committed unto mee ; and not reveale or disclose any thing, in whole or in part, directly or indirectly, that shall be debated or resolved upon in the Councill, without the command^ direction, or allowance of the Councill." " 1650. — March 30. Ordered, that it be recommended to the Lords Commissioners of the Great Scale, to give order for the preparing of a commission to Mr. Richard Bradshaw, who is to be employed resident from this Commonwealth to the senate of Hamburgh, according to the order of Parhament, 'That a credential letter be likewise prepared for him by Mr. Milton.' " 1650.— May 6. Ordered, that Mr. Milton doe attend the Lords Commissioners of the Great Scale, with the papers given in by Dr. Walsall, concerning the goods of /e/os de se : to whom it is referred, to take such course therein, for the advantage of the Commonwealth, as they shall think fitt. " 1650. — June 14. Ordered, that Mr. Milton shall have a warrant to the trustees and contractors, for the sale of the king's goods, for the furnishing of his lodging at Whitehall with some hangings.* " 1651.— March 27. Ordered, That the letters that are to be sent to the ambassadour of Spain, shall be sent unto him by Mr. Milton. "1651.— March 28. Ordered, That Mr. Milton doe translate the Intercursus Magnus, which he is to have from Sir Henry Vane. " 1651. — April 4. Ordered, That such despatches as come to this Councill from foreigne parts, in any foreigne tongue, are to be trans- lated for the use of the Councill. "1651. — April 10. Ordered, that Mr. Vaux be sent unto, to let him know that he is to forbeare the removing Mr. Milton out of his lodgings in Whitehall, until Sir Henry Mildmay and Sir Gilbert Pick- ering shall have spoken to the committee concerning that businesse. " 1651. — April 23. Ordered, that the paper, now read, to be sent * The copy of this warrant is inserted after this order, bearing date June 18, 1650. " These are to will and require you forthwith, upon sight hereof, to de- liver unto Mr. John Milton, or to whom he shall appoint, such hangings as shall be sufficient for furnishing his lodgings at Whitehall, of the late king's goods. " To the Trustees and Contractors.'' EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. 297 to the minister of Portugal, bee translated into Latin ; and'the English copie to be signed by Mr. Frost, and sent unto him. *» 1651.— May 16. "Ordered, That Mr. Milton doe repaire to the publique minister of Portugal!, and desire of him, from the Councill, a lyst of the names of such persones as hee desires to carrie with him as his retinue, that the same may be affixed to his passe. "1651. — May 30. Ordered, that Mr. Milton doe translate the petition of Alderman Dethiek, and the letter of the Councill to the Spanish ambassador in Latin, that the same may be sent to the said ambassador, according to former order. "1651. — June 11. Ordered, that Lieutenant-General Fleetwood, Sir John Trevor, Mr. Alderman Allen, and Mr. Chaloner, or anie two of them, be a committee, to goe from this Councill, to the Com- mittee of Parliament for Whitehall, to acquaint them with the case of Mr. Milton, in regard of their positive orders for his spedie remove out of his lodgings at "Whitehall ; and to endeavour with them, that the said Mr. Milton may bee continued where hee is, in regard of the employment which he is in to the Councill, which necessitates him to reside neere the Councill." From June till December, 1651, no entry relating to him occurs in the Council book. On the 19th of the latter month it is ordered, " That Mr. Milton be continued Secretarie for Forreigne Languages to this Councill for the yeare to come.''' In this interval of six months he was suffering under the approach of total blindness. Notwithstand- ing we find, " 1651-2. — Jan. 2. Ordered, that Mr. Milton do prepare a letter in Latin, the substance of what was now read here in English, to be sent to the Duke of Tuscany, to be brought to the Councill, to be there read, for the approbation of the Councill. " 1651-2. — Jan. 23. Ordered, that Mr. Milton doe make a trans- lation of the paper this day sent into the Councill, from the Lords Ambassadors of the High and Mighty Lords the States-Generall of the United Provinces ; which the Committee of Foreign Affairs are to take into consideration, and prepare an answer thereto, to be re- ported to the Councill. " 1651-2.— March 3. Ordered, that the letter now read, which is prepared to be sent to the queen of Sweden, along with the ag:ent in- tended to be sent thither, be humbly represented to the Parliament ; and the Lord Commissioner Whitelocke is desired to doe it accor- dingly, and that the copie of this letter be translated into Latine. " 1651-2. — March 8. Ordered, that the remainder of the articles to be ofiered to the British Ambassadors, which were not taken up this day, be taken up to-morrow in the afternoon, the first business. 29S EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. " That soe many of the articles as are already passed, bee sent to Mr. Milton, to be translated into Latine. "1651-2.— March 9. Ordered, that the articles now read, in an- swer to the thirty-six articles offered to the Council) by the Dutch Am- bassadours, be translated into Latine by Thursday next, in the after- noon. *'I652. — March 31. Ordered, that the paper now prepared to be given, in answer to the Spanish Ambassadour, bee approved, trans- lated, signed, and sent to him. "That Mr. Milton doe translate the said paper, out of Enghsh into Latine, to be sent along, as a copie. " 1652. — April 7. Ordered, that the answer to the King of Den- marke, now read, be approved of, and translated into Latine by Mr. Weekerlyn. "1653. — April 15. Ordered, that the paper now read, to be sent unto the Dutch Ambasabour, be approved of, and sent to Mr. Mil- ton, to be translated into Latine. "1652.— April 21. Ordered, that the Latine letter, now read, to be sent to the Duke of Savoy, be approved, fair written, signed, and sent, and delivered to the parties concerned. "1,652. — April 27. Ordered, that the paper which was read, in an- swer to the last papers from the Dutch Ambassadours, be approved of, fair written, and signed. " That the Latine translation of the paper now read, be approved, and sent along with the other. " 1652. — April 28. Ordered, that the paper now read, to be given to the Dutch iVmbasssdours by the commissioner appointed to treat with them, be approved of; and that it bee translated into Latine, the Eng- lish copie signed, and both Latine and English copie are to be kept until they shall be called for by the Lord Commissioner Whitelocke. " 1652. — May 26. Ordered, that the answer to the paper delivered unto the Commissioners of the Councill, appointed on that behalfe, by Monsieur Appleborn, publique minister of the Glueen of Sweden, now reported to the^Councill from the Committee of Forreigne affairs, be translated into Latine, and humbly presented to Parliament for their approbation. " 1652. — July 6. Ordered, that the articles now read, and reported from the Committee of Forreigne affairs, in answer to the proposals of the Danish Ambassadours ; and also the articles prepared to be given to the said Ambassadours from the Councill, bee approved of and translated into Latine. " 1652,— July 13. Ordered, that Mr. Thurloe doe appoint fit per- EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. 29^ sons to translate the P|p:liament's declaration into Latine, French, and Dutch. " 1652. — July 26. Memorandum. Send to Mr. Dugard to speak with Mr. MiLTOK, concerning the printing of the Declaration. " Mem. Send to Mr. Milton the order, made on Lord's Day last was se'nnight, concerning Dr. Walker, " 1652.— July 29. Ordered, that a copie of the Declaration of Par- liament concerning the business of the Dutch, be sent to each of the Ambassadours and publique ministers in towne, alsoe to the publique ministers of this Commonwealth abroad. ^ " 1652. — Aug. 10. Ordered, that the paper now read, in answer to the paper of the Spanish Ambassadour, be approved of, translated into Latine, and sent to tlie Lord Ambassadour of Spain, by Sir Oli- ver Fleming. " 1652. — October 1. Ordered, that the answer now read, to be givt* to the Danish Ambassadours from the Councill, be approved of; and tii»f jt be translated into Latine, and sent to the said Ambas- sadour. " 1652. Oct. 7. Oiaore(j^ tliat the paper, this day given into the Councill by the Lord Ambc.,«adour from the King of Portugal, be translated by Mr. Milton into En^iigh^ and brought into the Qjpun- cill to-morrow afternoone. " 1652. — Oct. 21. Ordered, that the paper no.r ,.gad to be sent to the Portuguese Ambassadour, bee approved of, bee v^^nslated into Latine, and carried to the said ambassadour by Sir Oliver Tlemino- master of the ceremonies. " 1652. — Oct. 22. Ordered, that the paper signed by Mr. Speaker, to bee sent to the Dutch Ambassadour, bee translated into Latine, and sent unto them by Sir Oliver Fleming. 1652. — Oct. 28. Ordered, that the paper now read to the Councill, to be given into the Portugal Ambassadour to-morrow in the afternoon by the Committee of the Councill appointed to that purpose, be trans- lated into Latine, and delivered by them to the said Ambassadour. 1652. — Nov. 3. Ordered, that the letter now read, which is to bee sent to the King of Denmark, be approved of and translated into La- tine, and offered to Mr. Speaker, bee signed by him ; and the Lord President desired to offer it to him. " 1652.— Nov. 19. Ordered, that the paper now read at the Coun- cill, in answer to the paper delivered into the Councill from the Por- tugal Ambassadour, bee approved of and translated into Latine, and be delivered by the Committee to the Portugal Ambassadour. " 1652.— Dec. 1. Ordered, that Mr. jMilton be continued in the employment he had last yeare, and have the same allowance for it as he had the last yeare," 300 EXTRACTS FROM COUNCIL BOOK. r-;;^.. ,- " ^ Milton had now wholly lost his sight. Mr. Philip Meadowes was appointed, in October, 1652, to assist him as Latin Secretary. " 1653. — Nov. 3. Ordered, that Mr. John Milton doe remayne in the same capacity he xvas in to the last Cowicill, and that he have the same al- loioancefor it as formerly, " 1653-4. — Ordered, that Friday next, in the afternoon, be assigned for receiving from Mr. Secretary Thurloe, what he shall offer respect- ing an establishment of the clerks and officers to attend the Councill. " 1653-4 — Feb. 3. According to an order of Wednesday last, Mr. Secretary Thurloe did this day present to the Councill an establish- ment of under-clerks and officers for attending and despatch of the af- fairs of the Councill, viz. "Mr. Philip Meadowes, Latin Secretary, at per annum £200 " The Sergeant at Arms, at twenty shillings per deim £365 "Mr. Gualter Frost, Treasurer to the Council's contin- gencies, at per annum £40^ " Mr. Milton. [No salary is specified.] " Seven under-clerks, &c. " 1655. — Jpriin. That theformeryearlii^^(i^'yofMr. John Milton, oj two hundred eighty-eight pounds, ^c j^rmerly charged in the CounciWs conHHmgencies, he reduced to otic i^^ndred and fifty pounds per annum, and paid to him during his lif^ out ojhis Highness''-^ Exchequer. It was after thi"' -i^iiLTON wrote the Letters of State in the name of the Protectr^j respecting the Duke of Savoy's persecution of the Wal- denses In 1657 the celebrated Andrew Marvell was associated with hj»i in the office of Latin Secretary. His salary was the same as Milton's. The following order of Oliver Cromwell, dated 1653-4, relates to the salaries of the servants of the Councill. Among others, it is said, " Mr. John Milton, for halfe a year e, from 4th of July to the 1st. of Jan. last inclusive, at 155. lOhd. per diem, £144. 9s. Zd. 1659. — Oct. 25. A similar warrant, after the death of the Protec- tor, for the payment of the Council of State's contingencies, to the 22d Oct. 1659. "At £200. per annum each. "John Milton £86 12 " Andrew Marvell £86 12 0'' " This accords with Philip's statement. " A little before the king's coming over, he was sequestered from his office of Latin Secretary, and the salary thereunto belonging.^* i Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: March 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111