Life Of John Milton by Richard Garnett (best free novels TXT) 📖

Of The Inquisition That No

Protestant Should Have Been Able To Gain Access To Him. It May Not Have

Been Until Milton's Second Visit In March,  1639,  When Galileo Had

Returned To His Villa,  That The English Stranger Stood Unseen Before

Him. The Meeting Between The Two Great Blind Men Of Their Century Is One

Of The Most Picturesque In History; It Would Have Been More Pathetic

Still If Galileo Could Have Known That His Name Would Be Written In

"Paradise Lost," Or Milton Could Have Foreseen That Within Thirteen

Years He Too Would See Only With The Inner Eye,  But That The Calamity

Which Disabled The Astronomer Would Restore Inspiration To The Poet. How

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Deeply He Was Impressed Appears,  Not Merely From The Famous Comparison

Of Satan's Shield To The Moon Enlarged In "The Tuscan Artist's Optic

Glass," But By The Ventilation In The Fourth And Eighth Books Of

"Paradise Lost," Of The Points At Issue Between Ptolemy And

Copernicus:--

 

   "Whether The Sun Predominant In Heaven

    Rise On The Earth,  Or Earth Rise On The Sun,

    He From The East His Flaming Road Begin,

    Or She From West Her Silent Course Advance

    With Inoffensive Pace,  That Spinning Sleeps

    On Her Soft Axle,  While She Paces Even,

    And Bears Thee Soft With The Smooth Air Along."

 

It Would Be Interesting To Know If Milton's Florentine Acquaintance

Included That Romantic Adventurer,  Robert Dudley,  Strange Prototype Of

Shelley In Face And Fortune,  Whom Lord Herbert Of Cherbury And Dean

Bargrave Encountered At Florence,  But Whom Milton Does Not Mention. The

Next Stage In His Pilgrimage Was The Eternal City,  By This Time Resigned

To Live Upon Its Past. The Revenues Of Which Protestant Revolt Had

Deprived It Were Compensated By The Voluntary Contributions Of The

Lovers Of Antiquity And Art; And It Had Become Under Paul V. One Of The

Centres Of European Finance. Recent Popes Had Added Splendid

Architectural Embellishments,  And The Tendency To Secular Display Was

Well Represented By Urban Viii.,  A Great Gatherer And A Great Dispenser

Of Wealth,  An Accomplished Amateur In Many Arts,  And Surrounded By A

Tribe Of Nephews,  Inordinately Enriched By Their Indulgent Uncle. Milton

Arrived Early In October. The Most Vivid Trace Of His Visit Is His

Presence At A Magnificent Concert Given By Cardinal Barberini,  Who,

"Himself Waiting At The Doors,  And Seeking Me Out In So Great A Crowd,

Nay,  Almost Laying Hold Of Me By The Hand,  Admitted Me Within In A Truly

Most Honourable Manner." There He Heard The Singer,  Leonora Baroni,  To

Whom He Inscribed Three Latin Epigrams,  Omitted From The Fifty-Six

Compositions In Honour Of Her Published In The Following Year. But We

May See Her As He Saw Her In The Frontispiece,  Reproduced In Ademollo's

Monograph Upon Her. The Face Is Full Of Sensibility,  But Not Handsome.

She Lived To Be A Great Lady,  And If Any One Spoke Of Her Artist Days

She Would Say,  _Chi Le Ricercava Queste Memorie?_ Next To Hers,  The Name

Most Entwined With Milton's Roman Residence Is That Of Lucas Holstenius,

A Librarian Of The Vatican. Milton Can Have Had Little Respect For A Man

Who Had Changed His Religion To Become The Dependant Of Cardinal

Barberini,  But Holstenius's Obliging Reception Of Him Extorted His

Gratitude,  Expressed In An Eloquent Letter. Of The Venerable Ruins And

Masterpieces Of Ancient And Modern Art Which Have Inspired So Many

Immortal Compositions,  Milton Tells Us Nothing,  And But One Allusion To

Them Is Discoverable In His Writings. The Study Of Antiquity,  As

Distinguished From That Of Classical Authors,  Was Not Yet A Living

Element In European Culture: There Is Also Truth In Coleridge's

Observation That Music Always Had A Greater Attraction For Milton Than

Plastic Art.

 

After Two Months' Stay In Rome,  Milton Proceeded To Naples,  Whence,

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After Two Months' Residence,  He Was Recalled By Tidings Of The Impending

Troubles At Home,  Just As He Was About To Extend His Travels To Sicily

And Greece. The Only Name Associated With His At Naples Is That Of The

Marquis Manso,  Then Passing His Seventy-Ninth Year With The Halo Of

Reverence Due To A Veteran Who Fifty Years Ago Had Soothed And Shielded

Tasso,  And Since Had Protected Marini. He Now Entertained Milton With

Equal Kindness,  Little Dreaming That In Return For Hospitality He Was

Receiving Immortality. Milton Celebrated His Desert As The Friend Of

Poets,  In A Latin Poem Of Singular Elegance,  Praying For A Like Guardian

Of His Own Fame,  In Lines Which Should Never Be Absent From The Memory

Of His Biographers. He Also Unfolded The Project Which He Then Cherished

Of An Epic On King Arthur,  And Assured Manso That Britain Was Not Wholly

Barbarous,  For The Druids Were Really Very Considerable Poets. He Is

Silent On Chaucer And Shakespeare. Manso Requited The Eulogium With An

Epigram And Two Richly-Wrought Cups,  And Told Milton That He Would Have

Shown Him More Observance Still If He Could Have Abstained From

Religious Controversy. Milton Had Not Acted On Sir Henry Wootton's

Advice To Him,  _Il Volto Sciolto,  I Pensieri Stretti_. "I Had Made This

Resolution With Myself," He Says,  "Not Of My Own Accord To Introduce

Conversation About Religion; But,  If Interrogated Respecting The Faith,

Whatsoever I Should Suffer,  To Dissemble Nothing." To This Resolution He

Adhered,  He Says,  During His Second Two Months' Visit To Rome,

Notwithstanding Threats Of Jesuit Molestation,  Which Probably Were Not

Serious. At Florence His Friends Received Him With No Less Warmth Than

If They Had Been His Countrymen,  And With Them He Spent Another Two

Months. His Way To Venice Lay Through Bologna And Ferrara,  And If His

Sonnets In The Italian Language Were Written In Italy,  And All Addressed

To The Same Person,  It Was Probably At Bologna,  Since The Lady Is Spoken

Of As An Inhabitant Of "Reno's Grassy Vale," And The Reno Is A River

Between Bologna And Ferrara. But There Are Many Difficulties In The Way

Of This Theory,  And,  On The Whole,  It Seems Most Reasonable To Conclude

That The Sonnets Were Composed In England,  And That Their

Autobiographical Character Is At Least Doubtful. That Nominally

Inscribed To Diodati,  However,  Would Well Suit Leonora Baroni. Diodati

Had Been Buried In Blackfriars On August 27,  1638,  But Milton Certainly

Did Not Learn The Fact Until After His Visit To Naples,  And Possibly Not

Until He Came To Pass Some Time At Geneva With Diodati's Uncle. He Had

Come To Geneva From Venice,  Where He Had Made Some Stay,  Shipping Off To

England A Cargo Of Books Collected In Italy,  Among Which Were Many Of

"Immortal Notes And Tuscan Air." These,  We May Assume,  He Found Awaiting

Him When He Again Set Foot On His Native Soil,  About The End Of July,

1639.

 

Milton's Conduct On His Return Justifies Wordsworth's Commendation:--

 

                              "Thy Heart

    The Lowliest Duties On Herself Did Lay."

 

Full,  As His Notebooks Of The Period Attest,  Of Magnificent Aspiration

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For "Flights Above The Aonian Mount," He Yet Quietly Sat Down To Educate

His Nephews,  And Lament His Friend. His Brother-In-Law Phillips Had Been

Dead Eight Years,  Leaving Two Boys,  Edward And John,  Now About Nine And

Eight Respectively. Mrs. Phillips's Second Marriage Had Added Two

Daughters To The Family,  And From Whatever Cause,  It Was Thought Best

That The Education Of The Sons Should Be Conducted By Their Uncle. So It

Came To Pass That "He Took Him A Lodging In St. Bride's Churchyard,  At

The House Of One Russel,  A Tailor;" Christopher Milton Continuing To

Live With His Father.

 

We May Well Believe That When The First Cares Of Resettlement Were Over,

Milton Found No More Urgent Duty Than The Bestowal Of A Funeral Tribute

Upon His Friend Diodati. The "Epitaphium Damonis" Is The Finest Of His

Latin Poems,  Marvellously Picturesque In Expression,  And Inspired By

True Manly Grief. In Diodati He Had Lost Perhaps The Only Friend Whom,

In The Most Sacred Sense Of The Term,  He Had Ever Possessed; Lost Him

When Far Away And Unsuspicious Of The Already Accomplished Stroke; Lost

Him When Returning To His Side With Aspirations To Be Imparted,  And

Intellectual Treasures To Be Shared. _Bis Ille Miser Qui Serus Amavit._

All This Is Expressed With Earnest Emotion In Truth And Tenderness,

Surpassing "Lycidas," Though Void Of The Varied Music And Exquisite

Felicities Which Could Not Well Be Present In The Conventionalized Idiom

Of A Modern Latin Poet. The Most Pathetic Passage Is That In Which He

Contrasts The General Complacency Of Animals In Their Kind With Man's

Dependence For Sympathy On A Single Breast; The Most Biographically

Interesting Where He Speaks Of His Plans For An Epic On The Story Of

Arthur,  Which He Seems About To Undertake In Earnest. But The Impulses

From Without Which Generally Directed The Course Of This Seemingly

Autocratic,  But Really Susceptible,  Nature,  Urged Him In Quite A

Different Direction: For Some Time Yet He Was To Live,  Not Make A Poem.

 

The Tidings Which,  Arriving At Naples About Christmas,  1638,  Prevailed

Upon Milton To Abandon His Projected Visit To Sicily And Greece,  Were No

Doubt Those Of The Revolt Of Scotland,  And Charles's Resolution To

Quell It By Force Of Arms. Ere He Had Yet Quitted Italy,  The King's

Impotence Had Been Sufficiently Demonstrated,  And About A Month Ere He

Stood On English Soil The Royal Army Had "Disbanded Like The Break-Up Of

A School." Milton May Possibly Have Regretted His Hasty Return,  But

Before Many Months Had Passed It Was Plain That The Revolution Was Only

Beginning. Charles's Ineffable Infatuation Brought On A Second Scottish

War,  Ten Times More Ridiculously Disastrous Than The First,  And Its

Result Left Him No Alternative But The Convocation (November,  1640) Of

The Long Parliament,  Which Sent Laud To The Tower And Strafford To The

Block,  Cleared Away Servile Judges And Corrupt Ministers,  And Made The

Persecuted Puritans Persecutors In Their Turn. Not A Member Of This

Grave Assemblage,  Perhaps,  But Would Have Laughed If Told That Not Its

Least Memorable Feat Was To Have Prevented A Young Schoolmaster From

Writing An Epic.

 

Milton Had By This Time Found The Lodgings In St. Bride's Churchyard

Insufficient For Him,  And Had Taken A House In Aldersgate Street,  Beyond

The City Wall,  And Suburban Enough To Allow Him A Garden. "This Street,"