ease. self bound, though unasked, to give you account, as oft as occasion is, of this my tardy moving, according to the precept of my conscience, which, I firmly trust, is not without God. Yet now I will not strain for any set apology, but only refer myself to what my mind shall have at any time to declare herself at her best But if you think, as you said, that too much love of learning is in fault, and that I have given up myself to dream away my years in the arms of studious retirement, like Endymion with the moon, as the tale of Latmus goes; yet consider, that if it were no more but the mere love of learning, whether it proceed from a principle bad, good, or natural, it could not have held out thus long against so strong opposition on the other side of every kind. For if it be bad, why should not all the fond hopes, that forward youth and vanity are fledge with, together with gain, pride, and ambition, call me forward more powerfully, than a poor, regardless, and unprofitable sin of curiosity should be able to withhold me, whereby a man cuts himself off from all action, and becomes the most helpless, pusillanimous, and unweaponed creature in the world, the most unfit and unable to do that, which all mortals most aspire to, either to be useful to his friends, or to offend his enemies. Or if it be to be thought a natural proneness, there is against that a much more potent inclination inbred, which about this time of a man's life solicits most, the desire of house and family of his own, to which nothing is esteemed more helpful than the early entering into credible employment, and nothing hindering than this affected solitariness. And though this were enough, yet there is to this another act, if not of pure, yet of refined nature, no less available to dissuade prolonged obscurity, a desire of honor and repute and immortal fame, seated in the breast of every true scholar, which all make haste to by the readiest ways of publishing and divulging conceived merits, as well those that shall, as those that never shall obtain it. Nature therefore would presently work the more prevalent way, if there were nothing but this inferior bent of herself to restrain her. Lastly, the love of learning, as it is the pursuit of something good, it would sooner follow the more excellent and supreme good known and presented, and so be quickly diverted from the empty and fantastic chase of shadows and notions, to the solid good flowing from due and timely obedience to that command in the gospel set out by the terrible seizing of him that hid the talent. It is more probable therefore, that not the endless delight of speculation, but this very consideration of that great commandment, does not press forward as soon as many do, to undergo, but keeps off with a sacred reverence and religious advisement how best to undergo; not taking thought of being late, so it give advantage to be more fit; for those that were latest, lost nothing, when the master of the vineyard came to give each one his hire. And here I am come to a stream head, copious enough to disburden itself like Nilus at seven mouths into an ocean. But then I should also run into a reciprocal contradiction of ebbing and flowing at once, and do that, which I excuse myself for not doing, "preach and not preach." Yet that you may see, that I am something suspicious of myself, I am and do take notice of a certain belatedness in me, 'How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, And inward ripeness doth much less appear, It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me. and the will of Heaven. • All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-Master's eye. By this I believe you may well repent of having made mention at all of this matter; for if I have not all this while won you to this, I have certainly wearied you of it. This therefore alone may be a sufficient reason for me to keep me as I am, lest having thus tired you singly, I should deal worse with a whole congregation, and spoil all the patience of a parish; for I myself do not only see my own tediousness, but now grow offended with it, that has hindered me thus long from coming to the last and best period of my letter, that which must now chiefly work my pardon, that I am your true and unfeigned friend.' But Milton, it is well known, never entered the profession here referred to, although it was to the service of the church, as he tells us,* that by the intentions of my parents and friends I was destined of a child, and in mine own resolutions, till coming to some maturity of years, and perceiving what tyranny had invaded the church, that he who would take orders must subscribe slave, and take an oath withal, which unless he took with a conscience that would retch, he must either straight perjure or split his faith, I thought it better to prefer a blameless silence before the sacred office of speaking, bought and begun with servitude and forswearing.' But that' calm and pleasing solitariness,' in which he so much delighted, was destined to be broken, and, put from beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies,' the poet and the scholar was ere long to 'embark in a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes.' The parties which rent the kingdom, were daily assuming towards each other a more menacing aspect. The resistance of the Scots, from which Milton dates the commencement of the civil war, had actually taken place, and the hum of preparation for the conflict, was becoming more audible even in England. In 1638, however, he saw so little to detain him at home, that he set out upon a visit to the continent. After a short delay at Paris, where he was introduced to Grotius, he passed into Italy, a country, which, already interwoven with his most cherished associations by its elder and its later literature, was ever after to be recurred to with * Vol. I. of this Selection, p. 149. b* the fondest recollections of friendship. His personal beauty, his cheerfulness and affability, his intellectual power, his uncommon learning, and above all, perhaps, his critical familiarity with the Italian tongue and its treasures, insured him a ready reception wherever he went, and were acknowledged and praised in the manner at once most flattering to his selfestimation, and congenial to his tastes. It was in Italy he saw Galileo, then under the restraint of the Inquisition, from whom it is suspected he caught those glimpses of a better philosophy of the heavens, which are seen in Paradise Lost. In Italy, too, he became acquainted with Manso, the accomplished and virtuous Marquis of Villa, the patron of Tasso. And it was in Italy, he formed more than one friendship, that was destined to solace and cheer him when old, blind, and, as the world calls it, disgraced. From Italy, he was desirous to pass into Sicily and Greece, countries by his course of study impressed upon his imagination as deeply, and connected with his finer feelings as strongly, as that which he was about to leave. But at Naples, the melancholy news reached him from England, that the civil war had begun; and I thought it base,' he says, 'when my fellow citizens were fighting for liberty at home, that I, even for the improvement of my mind, should be travelling at my ease abroad.'* His intended visit *'In Siciliam quoque et Græciam trajicere volentem, me tristis ex Angliâ belli civilis nuntius revocavit. Turpe enim existimabam, dum mei cives domi de libertate dimicarent, ne animi causâ, otiosè peregrinari.' Defensio Sec. Prose Works, vol. V. p. 231. I quote from what is commonly called Symmons's edition. Dr Symmons, however, though his Life of Milton is prefixed to it, did not edit it. |