AND now, Sir, I end with you, with whom I begun, not doubting but this small Prefent, both from the dignity of the Subject and your Favor to the Writer, will be kindly accepted. It may indeed be the more plain and unpolish'd, but not the less useful or fincere for coming out of a Country Retirement. The most knowing Perfons acknowlege that Divine Philofophy her felf was begot in the Woods, where agreably paffing her Infancy, and growing up in the neighboring Fields, fhe became gentle in time, and fo ventur'd to com into Towns and Cities; but being quickly weary'd there with the Tumult of Business or Faction, and longing for her former Tranquillity, fhe ftraight retir'd into Gardens or Groves, to her Fields and Woods again. 'Tis probable that you (as well as I or any o-. ther) may disapprove of MILTON'S Sentiments in feveral cafes, but, I'm fure, fure, you are far from being difpleas'd to find 'em particulariz'd in the Hiftory of his Life; for we fhould have no true Account of things, if Authors related nothing but what they lik❜d themselves: one Party would never fuffer the Lives of TARQUIN, or PHALARIS, or SYLLA, or C ÆSAR, to appear; while another would be as ready to fupprefs thofe of CICERO, of CATO, of TRAJAN, Or BRUTUS. But a Hiftorian ought to conceal or disguise nothing, and the Reader is to be left Judg of the Virtues he should imitat, or the Vices he ought to deteft and avoid, without ever loving his Book the lefs: for (as the Lord BACON truly faid) a forbidden Writing is thought to be a certain Spark of Truth that flies up in the faces of them who feek to tread it out. But your extraordinary Judg ment and Candor, join'd to the belt Learning, and an exact Knowlege of Men and Affairs, render my further in inculcating of these Maxims very needlefs; and therfore I fhall only put you in mind, Sir, that my defire of gratifying your Curiofity conquer'd my Aversion to write any thing during this pleasantest Season of the Year. Sept. 3. 1698. I. T. Al Signor Gio. Miltoni Nobile Inglefe. ODE. ERgimi all Etra o Clio Perche di ftelle intrecciero corona Non piu del Biondo Dio La Fronde eterna in Pindo, e in Elicona, Non puo del tempo edace Rimaner preda, eterno alto valore Non puo l'oblio Poblio rapace Furar dalle memorie eccello onore, Del Del Ocean profondo Cinta dagli ampi gorghi Anglia refiede Pero che il fuo valor l'umano eccede: Ch' hanno a ragion del fovruman tra noi. Alla virtu sbandita Danno ne i petti lor fido ricetto, Quella gli e fol gradita, Perche in lei fan trovar gioia, e diletto; Ridillo tuz Giovanni, e moftra in tanto Con tua vera virtu, vero il mio Canto. Lungi dal Patrio lido Spinfe Zeufi l' induftre ardente brama; Con aurea tromba rimbombar la fama, Cofi P Ape Ingegnofa Trae con induftria il fuo liquor pregiato E quanti vaghi fiori ornano il prato ; Formano |