ENGLISH LITERATURE 



M 



In- i m <, both Latin and Italian, excited general sur- 



<1 u.lmit.iti" i. lint it iH OH an Knglitth author that, in 

 those leaaona, we have specially to do with him. 



aro few jtoots whoae works more clearly reflect the life 



bar than Milton's. Not that hia works, hi poetical 



at any rate, contain many direct references to himself or 



such notices aro few. But the spirit and character 



<if Ins \VMI-U change with the changes in the spirit and d 



of the man. The period of Milton's life which we have 

 been hitherto describing was one of tranquillity and repose. 

 Is wore those of the student. He had not yet been 

 into the vortex of religious and political controversy. 

 His works of this period are exclusively poetical. They have 

 all the music which belongs to everything he ever wrote : ho 

 shows the same learning, and the same mastery over his learn- 

 ing, "s in later writings ; the same pure and severe morality, 

 ami the same spirit of reverence. But in these earlier poems 

 the whole tone is different from that of the later ones. The 

 prevailing spirit is a keen enjoyment of the beautiful. They 

 have a light-heartedness which for Milton never returned. He 

 still had leisure for 



" Such sights as youthful poets dream 

 On summer eves by haunted stream." 



He had not yet learned the Puritan horror of the stage. Even 

 in his pensive mood he would 



" Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 



In sceptred pall come sweeping by, 



Presenting Thebes or Felops' line, 



Or the tale of Troy divine." 



Unlike the Milton of later days, who was too rigid, too self- 

 contained to join in the public services of any religions body, 

 he could still write 



" But let my due feet never fail, 



To walk the studious cloisters pair ; 



And love the high euibowed roof, 



With antique pillars massy proof ; 



And storied windows richly dight, 



Casting a dim religious light. 



There let the pealing organ blow, 



To the full-voiced quire below, 



In service high and anthems clear, 



As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 



Dissolve me into ecstasies, 



And bring all heaven before my eyes." 



We can only briefly mention Milton's poems of this, his first 

 period. Passing by a few very early works, in some of which 

 the influence of Spenser who, of English poets, seems to have 

 been more than any other Milton's model is very apparent, we 

 come to the great Ode on the Nativity. This magnificent odo 

 is said to have been written by Milton at the age of twenty-one. 



To the same period belongs the exquisite poem of " Lycidas." 

 It was written upon the death of an intimate college friend of 

 Milton, Edward King, who was drowned in the Irish Channel, 

 while upon his voyage from Chester to Dublin. The death of 

 this young man produced a strong impression at the time, and 

 gave rise to a number of poems, which were published in a col- 

 lected form, but of which Milton's was the only one of remark- 

 able merit. This poem has something of the artificial character 

 and unreality which might be expected in one composed under 

 such circumstances. It is pastoral in form : the young man 

 whose death is lamented is a fellow-shepherd of the writer. 

 " Together both, ere the high dawn appeared, 

 Under the opening eyelids of the morn, 

 We drove a-fleld." 



The poet introduces all that incongruous mixture of imagery, 

 and peoples his stage with that variety of sacred and mytho- 

 logical personages, Christian and heathen, to which wo are 

 accustomed in pastoral poetry. The poem has no passion in it, 

 and little that appeals to the emotions. But for beauty of 

 imagery and perfect harmony of numbers there are few poems 

 which can be placed on the same level. 



The " Masque of Comus " was founded upon a trivial incident 

 which occurred in the family of the Earl of Bridgewater, who, 

 as Lord President of the Welsh Marches, had his residence at 

 Lndlow Castle. His daughter, with her two brothers, lost their 

 way in a wood ; and this slight circumstance gave rise to the 

 beautiful poem of " Comus." This graceful poem is framed upon 

 the model of the Masques of Jonson and Fletcher, of which we 



have already bad oooMiou to apeak. It differs from ita prede- 

 cessors in the peculiar elevation of tore, the mcrwl dignity, 

 which Milton ban thrown in+o it, tin into every thing !<, that 

 he ever wrote. This piece waa acted at Ludlow Castle by mem 

 bora of the noble family upon whoae adventure* it was founded. 

 The music wan oompoaed by the celebrated tnuxician Lawea, who 

 also acted a part in the i : kuynoto of thia beautiful 



poem is the beauty of virtue and purity, iU superiority 

 cumstanccH, and the divine protection which attends it. 

 " Virtue could teo to do what Virtue would, 

 By her own rudiuut light, though mu und moor 

 Wore in the great *eu sunk." 



Upon this subject Milton lavishes the richest and moat varied 

 eloquence, interspersed with songs of a " Doric delicacy " which 

 is marvellous. 



The " Masque of Arcades " is somewhat similar in character 

 to " Comus," but it is as inferior to it in merit OH it is shorter 

 in length. " Arcades " is probably the earlier work of the two. 

 But of the poems of this, the first period of Milton's career, 

 the most remarkable, and probably the most universally enjoy- 

 able, are the companion pieces, " L' Allegr* " and " II Penseroso," 

 the one a description of the tastes and pursuits of the cheerful 

 man, the other of the pensive man. It would be difficult to find 

 in any language the same amount of poetical beauty compressed 

 into the same space as in these two short poems. Every word 

 conveys a picture, and the rhythm of every line conduces to the 

 impression which is to be produced. The cheerful man's first 

 pleasure is 



" To hear the lark begin his flight, 

 And singing startle the dull :ii. lit, 

 From his watch-tower in the skies, 

 Till the dappled dawn doth rise." 

 A little later we have him 



" Walking not unseen, 

 By hedge-row elms on hillocks green, 

 Bight against the eastern gate, 

 Where the great sun begins his state." 

 Then his eye catches 



" Russet lawns and fallows grey, 



Meadows tiim with daisies pied. 



Towers and battlements it sees, 

 Bosomed high in tufted trees, 

 Where perhaps some beauty lies, 

 The Cynosure of neighbouring eyes." 



In what contrast with these pictures aro tho nightly pleasures 



of the cheerful man : 



" Towered cities please us then, 

 And the busy hum of men, 

 Where tb.rox.gs of knights and baroua bold 

 In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, 

 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 

 Bain influence and judge the prize." 

 There are few things in the whole range cf poetry more beau- 



tiful than the description of cheerful music at the close of 



" L' Allegro." Milton was an enthusiast in music : 



" Soft Lydian airs 

 Married to immortal verse, 

 Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 

 In notes, with many a winding bout 

 Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 

 With wanton heed and giddy cunning, 

 Tin? melting voice through mazes running; 

 Untwisting all the chains that tie 

 The hidden soul of harmony." 



Tho pensive man would 



" Walk unseen 



Oil the dry smooth-shaven green, 

 To behold the wandering moon 

 Biding near her highest noon, 

 Like one that had been led astray 

 Through the heavens' wide pathless way, 

 And oft, as though her head she bowed. 

 Stooping through a fleecy cloud." 



He hears The far . off curfew 80und 



Over some wide-watered shore 

 Swinging slow with sullen roar." 



The night having been passed in pursuits appropriate to a 

 pensive and contemplative nature, 



