which he had produced on this most provoking occasion, he was seriously negociating another marriage with Miss Davis, a young lady of great wit and beauty. This, however, was prevented by a most unexpected occurrence. Being one day at the house of a relation named Blackborough, in St. Martin's Le Grand, whom he often visited, he was extremely surprised to meet his wife there, whom he had never expected to see again. She threw herself at his feet, confessed her fault, and with tears intreated his forgiveness. At first he appeared to be unmoved and inexorable; but at length the generosity of his temper, and the intercession of some mutual friends, conquered his anger, and a perfect reconciliation took place, with the promise of oblivion of every thing which had happened. As a proof of his having forgiven her and her relations, who it is most probable had been the principal cause of all his domestic troubles, he received his wife's father and mother, and several of her brothers and sisters, into his own house, their political party having declined in influence. This was more than they could have expected from him, as they had doubtless been the occasion of separating "those whom God had joined together," and had thus exposed themselves to a divine malediction: "Cursed is he that parteth man and wife." MILTON kindly entertained them until their own affairs were in a better condition. The scene which we have been constrained to survey, is most humiliating and confounding. One is ready to say, Oh! that oblivion had in kindness cast its mantle over such disgusting details. The champion of a nation's right, the fearless, undaunted assertor of civil and religious liberty, and the successful advocate of the unshackled press, himself a domestic tyrant! objecting to the restraint with which God and nature had guarded the marriage union, and refusing to the wife of his bosom, the companion of his life, those equal rights to which with himself she was justly entitled. "Yet she is thy COMPANION, and the wife of thy COVENANT: and did he not make ONE?" (Malachi ii. 14.) MILTON and his wife did not, it is evident, understand the principles of the marriage covenant: they were not "one ! but two!" Nor did he treat her, so far as it appears, as if she was his " companion," but his household slave! Nor did he fulfil the conditions of the "covenant," into which he had voluntarily entered when she consented to become his wife, a covenant of reciprocal duties, and of equal privileges. His biographers say, that Mrs. MILTON "refused to return;" perhaps she was justifiable in that refusal: she might have been treated superciliously and contemptuously by her husband. "He wrote several letters to her which she did not answer." It would have been better had he paid her an affectionate visit. He then sent a servant, doubtless demanding her from her father, and then "she positively refused to come, and dismissed the messenger with contempt!" Admitting the supposition to be just, that he had sent his lordly commands, requiring her submission to his authority, she acted rightly and with a becoming spirit. He became incensed at this, and resolved, out of regard to his "honour" and " repose," to repudiate her as no longer worthy his confidence or affection. A husband who could act with this haughty feeling towards his companion, must have strange notions of what, in such a case, was honourable; and as to seeking repose by such means, was the most unlucky plan he could have adopted, as the sequel abundantly shows. An obedient regard to the directions of the Apostle Paul, (Eph. v. 21—25) would have soon settled all this strife, or, more properly speaking, would have prevented it altogether. In this matter MILTON appears like Samson when shorn of his Nazarite locks-become "weak, and as other men." MILTON's great strength, like that of Samson, lay in his knowledge of, and obedience to, the principles of revealed truth. While he adhered closely to these, he snapped with ease "the green withs," and the "new ropes;" and when even the "seven locks of his head were woven with a web, however closely fastened, "he went away with both the pin of the beam and the web." He dispatched with almost infinite ease all the sophistry, and learning, and opprobrium employed by the bishops and others to bind and afflict him: Who single combatant Duel'd their armies rank'd in proud array, At one spear's length. O ever failing trust But on this subject of divorce, oh! how weak are Oh! what merriment it must and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs!" Alas! that he should have been entirely ignorant of the ungodly temper which he was himself manifesting, and of the erroneous and inconsistent principles which he was pleading. Is it not surprising that he could not see his own face in the mirror of his own transparent lines upon this subject? namely, those "That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, For who loves that, must first be wise and good." COWPER, though a bachelor, understood this subject of "Domestic Duties," better than MILTON the married man! In his inimitable little piece, entitled " Mutual forbearance necessary to the Marriage state;" he has in fine satire exposed the trifling circumstances which often lead to "jar and tumult, and intestine war." He there says, in his own best manner: "Alas! and is domestic strife, |