Life Of John Milton by Richard Garnett (free children's online books TXT) 📕

As These Meditations And--I May Also Say--Fancies Of Yours.  As For The

Faults,  Let Those Who Take A Pleasure In Finding Them,  Look For Them.

The Living Faith Is The One Important Thing,  The Living Faith And The

Living Jesus,  And That Is Here!  My Son," He Added,  Laying His Hand On

The Prisoner's Head,  "I Feel Your Piety Of Soul Is So Profound,  That I

Will Administer The Sacrament To You.  Yes,  Conrad,  You Are Saved.

Only,  Pray Fervently."

Conrad Covered His Face With His Hands,  And Wept Quietly.  The Priest's

Words Made Him So Happy.

"I Even Think,On At The

Disappointment Of His Own Brilliant Hopes,  And Some Alarm At The

Condition Of The Vessel Of The State Reduced To Her Last Plank.

Authority Actually Had Come Into The Hands Of The Kingliest Man In

England,  Valiant And Prudent,  Magnanimous And Merciful. But Cromwell's

Life Was Precarious,  And What After Cromwell? Was The Ancient

Constitution,  With Its Halo Of Antiquity,  Its Settled Methods,  And Its

Substantial Safeguards,  Wisely Exchanged For One Life,  Already The Mark

For A Thousand Bullets? Milton Did Not Reflect,  Or He Kept His

Reflections To Himself. The One Point On Which He Does Seem Nervous Is

Lest His Hero Should Call Himself What He Is. The Name Of Protector Even

Is A Stumbling-Block,  Though One _Can_ Get Over It. "You Have,  By

Assuming A Title Likest That Of Father Of Your Country,  Allowed Yourself

To Be,  One Cannot Say Elevated,  But Rather Brought Down So Many Stages

From Your Real Sublimity,  And As It Were Forced Into Rank For The Public

Convenience." But There Must Be No Question Of A Higher Title:--

      "You Have,  In Your Far Higher Majesty,  Scorned The Title Of King.

      And Surely With Justice: For If In Your Present Greatness You Were

      To Be Taken With That Name Which You Were Able When A Private Man

      To Reduce And Bring To Nothing,  It Would Be Almost As If,  When By

      The Help Of The True God You Had Subdued Some Idolatrous Nation,

      You Were To Worship The Gods You Had Yourself Overcome."

This Warning,  Occurring In The Midst Of A Magnificent Panegyric,

Sufficiently Vindicates Milton Against The Charge Of Servile Flattery.

The Frank Advice Which He Gives Cromwell On Questions Of Policy Is Less

Conclusive Evidence: For,  Except On The Point Of Disestablishment,  It

Was Such As Cromwell Had Already Given Himself. Professor Masson's

Excellent Summary Of It May Be Further Condensed Thus--1. Reliance On A

Council Of Well-Selected Associates. 2. Absolute Voluntaryism In

Religion. 3. Legislation Not To Be Meddlesome Or Over-Puritanical. 4.

University And Scholastic Endowments To Be Made The Rewards Of Approved

Merit. 5. Entire Liberty Of Publication At The Risk Of The Publisher. 6.

Constant Inclination Towards The Generous View Of Things. The Advice Of

An Enthusiastic Idealist,  Puritan By The Accident Of His Times,  But

Whose True Affinities Were With Mill And Shelley And Rousseau.

An Interesting Question Arises In Connection With Milton's Official

Duties: Had He Any Real Influence On The Counsels Of Government? Or Was

He A Mere Secretary? It Would Be Pleasing To Conceive Of Him As Vizier

To The Only Englishman Of The Day Whose Greatness Can Be Compared With

His; To Imagine Him Playing Aristotle To Cromwell's Alexander. We Have

Seen Him Freely Tendering Cromwell What Might Have Been Unpalatable

Advice,  And Learn From Du Moulin's Lampoon That He Was Accused Of Having

Behaved To The Protector With Something Of Dictatorial Rudeness. But It

Seems Impossible To Point To Any Direct Influence Of His Mind In The

Administration; And His Own Department Of Foreign Affairs Was Neither

One Which He Was Peculiarly Qualified To Direct,  Nor One In Which He Was

Likely To Differ From The Ruling Powers. "A Spirited Foreign Policy" Was

Then The Motto Of All The Leading Men Of England. Before Milton's Loss

Of Sight His Duties Included Attendance Upon Foreign Envoys On State

Occasions,  Of Which He Must Afterwards Have Been To A Considerable

Extent Relieved. The Collection Of His Official Correspondence Published

In 1676 Is Less Remarkable For The Quantity Of Work Than The Quality.

The Letters Are Not Very Numerous,  But Are Mostly Written On Occasions

Requiring A Choice Dignity Of Expression. "The Uniformly Miltonic Style

Of The Greater Letters," Says Professor Masson,  "Utterly Precludes The

Idea That Milton Was Only The Translator Of Drafts Furnished Him." We

Seem To See Him Sitting Down To Dictate,  Weighing Out The Fine Gold Of

His Latin Sentences To The Stately Accompaniment,  It May Be,  Of His

Chamber-Organ. War Is Declared Against The Dutch; The Spanish Ambassador

Is Reproved For His Protraction Of Business; The Grand Duke Of Tuscany

Is Warmly Thanked For Protecting English Ships In The Harbour Of

Leghorn; The French King Is Admonished To Indemnify English Merchants

For Wrongful Seizure; The Protestant Swiss Cantons Are Encouraged To

Fight For Their Religion; The King Of Sweden Is Felicitated On The Birth

Of A Son And Heir,  And On The Treaty Of Roeskilde; The King Of Portugal

Is Pressed To Use More Diligence In Investigating The Attempted

Assassination Of The English Minister; An Ambassador Is Accredited To

Russia; Mazarin Is Congratulated On The Capture Of Dunkirk. Of All His

Letters,  None Can Have Stirred Milton's Personal Feelings So Deeply As

The Epistle Of Remonstrance To The Duke Of Savoy On The Atrocious

Massacre Of The Vaudois Protestants (1655); But The Document Is

Dignified And Measured In Tone. His Emotion Found Relief In His Greatest

Sonnet; Blending,  As Wordsworth Implies,  Trumpet Notes With His Habitual

Organ-Music; The Most Memorable Example In Our Language Of The Fire And

Passion Which May Inspire A Poetical Form Which Some Have Deemed Only

Fit To Celebrate A "Mistress's Eyebrow"[4]:--

   "Avenge,  O Lord,  Thy Slaughtered Saints,  Whose Bones

      Lie Scattered On The Alpine Mountains Cold;

      Even Them Who Kept Thy Truth So Pure Of Old,

      When All Our Fathers Worshipped Stocks And Stones.

    Forget Not: In Thy Book Record Their Groans

      Who Were Thy Sheep,  And In Their Ancient Fold

      Slain By The Bloody Piemontese That Rolled

      Mother With Infant Down The Rocks. Their Moans

    The Vales Redoubled To The Hills,  And They

      To Heaven. Their Martyred Blood And Ashes Sow

      O'er All The Italian Fields,  Where Still Doth Sway

    The Triple Tyrant; That From These May Grow

      A Hundredfold,  Who,  Having Learned Thy Way,

      Early May Fly The Babylonian Woe."

This Is What Johnson Calls "Carving Heads Upon Cherry-Stones!"

Milton's Calamity Had,  Of Course,  Required Special Assistance. He Had

First Had Weckherlin As Coadjutor,  Then Philip Meadows,  Finally Andrew

Marvell. His Emoluments Had Been Reduced,  In April,  1655,  From £288 To

£150 A Year,  But The Diminished Allowance Was Made Perpetual Instead Of

Annual,  And Seems To Have Been Intended As A Retiring Pension. He

Nevertheless Continued To Work,  Drawing Salary At The Rate Of £200 A

Year,  And His Pen Was Never More Active Than During The Last Months Of

Oliver's Protectorate. He Continued To Serve Under Richard,  Writing

Eleven Letters Between September,  1658,  And February,  1659. With Two

Letters For The Restored Parliament After Richard's Abdication,  Written

In May,  1659,  Milton,  Though His Formal Supersession Was Yet To Come,

Virtually Bade Adieu To The Civil Service:--

                          "God Doth Not Need

      Either Man's Work,  Or His Own Gifts; Who Best

      Bear His Mild Yoke,  They Serve Him Best: His State

    Is Kingly; Thousands At His Bidding Speed,

      And Post O'er Land And Ocean Without Rest;

      They Also Serve Who Only Stand And Wait."

The Principal Domestic Events In Milton's Life,  Meanwhile,  Had Been His

Marriage With Katherine,  Daughter Of An Unidentified Captain Woodcock,

In November,  1656; And The Successive Loss Of Her And An Infant Daughter

In February And March,  1658. It Is Probable That Milton Literally Never

Saw His Wife,  Whose Worth And The Consequent Happiness Of The Fifteen

Months Of Their Too Brief Union,  Are Sufficiently Attested By His Sonnet

On The Dream In Which He Fancied Her Restored To Him,  With The Striking

Conclusion,  "Day Brought Back My Night." Of His Daughters At The Time,

Much May Be Conjectured,  But Nothing Is Known; His Nephews,  Whose

Education Had Cost Him Such Anxious Care,  Though Not Undutiful In Their

Personal Relations With Him,  Were Sources Of Uneasiness From Their Own

Misadventures,  And Might Have Been Even More So As Sinister Omens Of The

Ways In Which The Rising Generation Was To Walk. The Fruits Of Their

Bringing Up Upon The Egregious Lucretius And Manilius Were Apparently

"Satyr Against Hypocrites," _I.E._,  Puritans; "Mysteries Of Love And

Eloquence;" "Sportive Wit Or Muses' Merriment," Which Last Brought The

Council Down Upon John Phillips As A Propagator Of Immorality. In His

Nephews Milton Might Have Seen,  Though We May Be Sure He Did Not See,

How Fatally The Austerity Of The Commonwealth Had Alienated Those Who

Would Soon Determine Whether The Commonwealth Should Exist. Unconscious

Of The "Engine At The Door," He Could Spend Happy Social Hours With

Attached Friends--Andrew Marvell,  His Assistant In The Secretaryship And

Poetical Satellite; His Old Pupil Cyriack Skinner; Lady Ranelagh;

Oldenburg,  The Bremen Envoy,  Destined To Fame As Secretary Of The Royal

Society And The Correspondent Of Spinoza; And A Choice Band Of

"Enthusiastic Young Men Who Accounted It A Privilege To Read To Him,  Or

Act As His Amanuenses,  Or Hear Him Talk." A Sonnet Inscribed To One Of

These,  Henry Lawrence,  Gives A Pleasing Picture Of The British Homer In

His Horatian Hour:--

   "Lawrence,  Of Virtuous Father Virtuous Son,

      Now That The Fields Are Dank,  And Ways Are Mire,

      Where Shall We Sometimes Meet,  And By The Fire

      Help Waste A Sullen Day,  What May Be Won

    From The Hard Season Gaining? Time Will Run