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

Languages,  Including Greek And Latin (Hebrew And Syriac Are Also

Mentioned,  But This Is Difficult Of Belief),  That They Could Read Aloud

To Him Without Any Comprehension Of The Meaning Of The Text. Sixty Years

Afterwards,  Passages Of Homer And Ovid Were Found Lingering As Melodious

Sounds In The Memory Of The Youngest. Such A Task,  Inexpressibly

Delightful To Affection,  Must Have Been Intolerably Repulsive To Dislike

Or Indifference: We Can Scarcely Wonder That Two Of These Children (Of

The Youngest We Have A Better Report),  Abhorred The Father Who Exacted

So Much And Imparted So Little. Yet,  Before Visiting Any Of The Parties

With Inexorable Condemnation,  We Should Consider The Strong Probability

That Much Of The Misery Grew Out Of An Antecedent State Of Things,  For

Which None Of Them Were Responsible. The Infant Minds Of Two Of The

Daughters,  And The Two Chiefly Named As Undutiful,  Had Been Formed By

Their Mother. Mistress Milton Cannot Have Greatly Cherished Her Husband,

And What She Wanted In Love Must Have Been Made Up In Fear. She Must

Have Abhorred His Principles And His Writings,  And Probably Gave Free

Course To Her Feelings Whenever She Could Have Speech With A

Sympathizer,  Without Caring Whether The Girls Were Within Hearing.

Milton Himself,  We Know,  Was Cheerful In Congenial Society,  But He Were

No Poet If He Had Not Been Reserved With The Uncongenial. To Them The

Silent,  Abstracted,  Often Irritable,  And Finally Sightless Father Would

Seem Awful And Forbidding. It Is Impossible To Exaggerate The

Susceptibility Of Young Minds To First Impressions. The Probability Is

That Ere Mistress Milton Departed This Life,  She Had Intentionally Or

Unintentionally Avenged All The Injuries She Could Imagine Herself To

Have Received From Her Husband,  And Furnished Him With A Stronger

Argument Than Any That Had Found A Place In The "Doctrine And Discipline

Of Divorce."

It Is Something In Favour Of The Milton Girls That They Were At Least

Not Calculating In Their Undutifulness. Had They Reflected,  They Must

Have Seen That Their Behaviour Was Little To Their Interest. If They

Brought A Stepmother Upon Themselves,  The Blame Was Theirs. Something

Must Certainly Be Done To Keep Milton's Library From The Rag-Women; And

In February,  1663,  By The Advice Of His Excellent Physician Dr. Paget,

He Married Elizabeth Minshull,  Daughter Of A Yeoman Of Wistaston In

Cheshire,  A Distant Relation Of Dr. Paget's Own,  And Exactly Thirty

Years Younger Than Milton. "A Genteel Person,  A Peaceful And Agreeable

Woman," Says Aubrey,  Who Knew Her,  And Refutes By Anticipation

Richardson's Anonymous Informant,  Perhaps Deborah Clarke,  Who Libelled

Her As "A Termagant." She Was Pretty,  And Had Golden Hair,  Which One

Connects Pleasantly With The Late Sunshine She Brought Into Milton's

Life. She Sang To His Accompaniment On The Organ And Bass-Viol,  But Is

Not Recorded To Have Read Or Written For Him; The Only Direct Testimony

We Have Of Her Care Of Him Is His Verbal Acknowledgment Of Her Attention

To His Creature Comforts. Yet Aubrey's Memoranda Show That She Could

Talk With Her Husband About Hobbes,  And She Treasured The Letters He Had

Received From Distinguished Foreigners. At The Time Of Their Marriage

Milton Was Living In Jewin Street,  Aldersgate,  From Which He Soon

Afterwards Removed To Artillery Walk,  Bunhill Fields,  His Last

Residence. He Lodged In The Interim With Millington,  The Book

Auctioneer,  A Man Of Superior Ability,  Whom An Informant Of Richardson's

Had Often Met In The Streets Leading His Inmate By The Hand.

It Is At This Era Of Milton's History That We Obtain The Fullest Details

Of His Daily Life,  As Being Nearer To The Recollection Of Those From

Whom Information Was Sought After His Death. His Household Was Larger

Than Might Have Been Expected In His Reduced Circumstances; He Had A

Man-Servant,  Greene,  And A Maid,  Named Fisher. That True

Hero-Worshipper,  Aubrey,  Tells Us That He Generally Rose At Four,  And

Was Even Then Attended By His "Man" Who Read To Him Out Of The Hebrew

Bible. Such Erudition In A Serving-Man Almost Surpasses Credibility: The

English Bible Probably Sufficed Both. It Is Easier To Believe That Some

One Read To Him Or Wrote For Him From Seven Till Dinner Time: If,

However,  "The Writing Was Nearly As Much As The Reading," Much That

Milton Dictated Must Have Been Lost. His Recreations Were Walking In His

Garden,  Never Wanting To Any Of His Residences,  Where He Would Continue

For Three Or Four Hours At A Time; Swinging In A Chair When Weather

Prevented Open-Air Exercise; And Music,  That Blissful Resource Of

Blindness. His Instrument Was Usually The Organ,  The Counterpart Of The

Stately Harmony Of His Own Verse. To These Relaxations Must Be Added The

Society Of Faithful Friends,  Among Whom Andrew Marvell,  Dr. Paget,  And

Cyriack Skinner Are Particularly Named. Nor Did Edward Phillips Neglect

His Uncle,  Finding Him,  As Aubrey Implies,  "Most Familiar And Free In

His Conversation To Those To Whom Most Sour In His Way Of Education."

Milton Had Made Him "A Songster," And We Can Imagine The "Sober,  Silent,

And Most Harmless Person" (Evelyn) Opening His Lips To Accompany His

Uncle's Music. Of Milton's Manner Aubrey Says,  "Extreme Pleasant In His

Conversation,  And At Dinner,  Supper,  Etc.,  But Satirical." Visitors

Usually Came From Six Till Eight,  If At All,  And The Day Concluded With

A Light Supper,  Sometimes Of Olives,  Which We May Well Imagine Fraught

For Him With Tuscan Memories,  A Pipe,  And A Glass Of Water. This Picture

Of Plain Living And High Thinking Is Confirmed By The Testimony Of The

Quaker Thomas Ellwood,  Who For A Short Time Read To Him,  And Who

Describes The Kindness Of His Demeanour,  And The Pains He Took To Teach

The Foreign Method Of Pronouncing Latin. Even More; "Having A Curious

Ear,  He Understood By My Tone When I Understood What I Read And When I

Did Not,  And Accordingly Would Stop Me,  Examine Me,  And Open The Most

Difficult Passages To Me." Milton Must Have Felt A Special Tenderness

For The Quakers,  Whose Religious Opinions,  Divested Of The Shell Of

Eccentricity Which The Vulgar Have Always Mistaken For The Kernel,  Had

Become Substantially His Own. He Had Outgrown Independency As Formerly

Presbyterianism. His Blindness Served To Excuse His Absence From Public

Worship; To Which,  So Long At Least As Clarendon's Intolerance Prevailed

In The Councils Of Charles The Second,  Might Be Added The Difficulty Of

Finding Edification In The Pulpit,  Had He Needed It. But These Reasons,

Though Not Imaginary,  Were Not Those Which Really Actuated Him. He Had

Ceased To Value Rites And Forms Of Any Kind,  And,  Had His Religious

Views Been Known,  He Would Have Been "Equalled In Fate" With His

Contemporary Spinoza. Yet He Was Writing A Book Which Orthodox

Protestantism Has Accepted As But A Little Lower Than The Scriptures.

"The Kingdom Of Heaven Cometh Not With Observation." We Know But Little

Of The History Of The Greatest Works Of Genius. That Something More Than

Usual Should Be Known Of "Paradise Lost" Must Be Ascribed To The

Author's Blindness,  And Consequent Dependence Upon Amanuenses. When

Inspiration Came Upon Him Any One At Hand Would Be Called Upon To

Preserve The Precious Verses,  Hence The Progress Of The Poem Was Known

To Many,  And Phillips Can Speak Of "Parcels Of Ten,  Twenty,  Or Thirty

Verses At A Time." We Have Already Heard From Him That Milton's Season

Of Inspiration Lasted From The Autumnal Equinox To The Vernal: The

Remainder Of The Year Doubtless Contributed Much To The Matter Of His

Poem,  If Nothing To The Form. His Habits Of Composition Appear To Be

Shadowed Forth By Himself In The Induction To The Third Book:--

   "Thee,  Sion,  And The Flowery Brooks Beneath

    That Wash Thy Hallowed Feet,  And Warbling Flow,

    Nightly I Visit--"

   "Then Feed On Thoughts That Voluntary Move

    Harmonious Numbers; As The Wakeful Bird

    Sings Darkling,  And In Shadiest Covert Hid

    Tunes Her Nocturnal Note."

This Is Something More Precise Than A Mere Poetical Allusion To His

Blindness,  And The Inference Is Strengthened By The Anecdote That When

"His Celestial Patroness" "Deigned Nightly Visitation Unimplored," His

Daughters Were Frequently Called At Night To Take Down The Verses,  Not

One Of Which The Whole World Could Have Replaced. This Was As It Should

Be. Grand Indeed Is The Thought Of The Unequalled Strain Poured Forth

When Every Other Voice Was Hushed In The Mighty City,  To No Meaner

Accompaniment Than The Music Of The Spheres. Respecting The Date Of

Composition,  We May Trust Aubrey's Statement That The Poem Was Commenced

In 1658,  And When The Rapidity Of Milton's Composition Is Considered

("Easy My Unpremeditated Verse") It May,  Notwithstanding The Terrible

Hindrances Of The Years 1659 And 1660,  Have Been,  As Aubrey Thinks,

Completed By 1663. It Would Still Require Mature Revision,  Which We Know

From Ellwood That It Had Received By The Summer Of 1665. Internal

Evidence Of The Chronology Of The Poem Is Very Scanty. Professor Masson

Thinks That The First Two Books Were Probably Written Before The

Restoration. In Support Of This View It May Be Urged That Lines 500-505

Of Book I. Wear The Appearance Of An Insertion After The Restoration,

And That In The Invocation To The Third Book Milton May Be Thought To

Allude To The Dangers His Life And Liberty Had Afterwards Encountered,

Figured By The Regions Of Nether Darkness Which He Had Traversed As A

Poet.

   "Hail Holy Light!...

    Thee I Revisit Now With Bolder Wing,

    Escaped The Stygian Pool,  Though Long Detained

    In That Obscure Sojourn,  While In My Flight

    Through Utter And Through Middle Darkness Borne."

The Only Other Passage Important In This Respect Is The Famous One From

The Invocation To The Seventh Book,  Manifestly Describing The Poet's

Condition Under The Restoration:--

   "Standing On Earth,  Not Rapt Above The Pole,

    More Safe I Sing With Mortal Voice,  Unchanged

    To Hoarse Or Mute,  Though Fallen On Evil Days,

    On Evil Days Though Fallen And Evil Tongues;

    In Darkness,  And With Dangers Compassed Round,

    And Solitude; Yet Not Alone,  While Thou

    Visitest My Slumbers Nightly,  Or When Morn

    Purples The East. Still Govern Thou My Song,

    Urania,  And Fit Audience Find,  Though Few.

    But Drive Far Off The Barbarous Dissonance

    Of Bacchus And His Revellers,  The Race