XI.

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.

1645.

A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,1
And woven close, both matter, form, and style;
The subject new: it walk'd the town a while,
Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom pored on
Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on
A title-page is this! and some in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile
End Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?2

Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheke,3
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward
Greek.

XII.

ON THE SAME.

I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When straight a barbarous noise environs me
Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs :4

1 Tetrachordon means exposition on the four chief places in Scripture which mention nullities in marriage.

2 Colkitto and Macdonnel are one and the same person, a brave officer on the royal side, an Irishman of the Antrim family, who served under Montrose. The Macdonnels of that family are styled, by way of distinction, Mac Collcittok, i.e., descendants of lame Volin. Galasp is George Gillespie, a

Scottish writer against the Indepen dents; for whom see Milton's verses on the "Forcers of Conscience."WARTON.

3 Sir John Cheke has been already named in the notes to this volume. He was the first Professor of Greek at Cambridge, and restored the original pronunciation of it. He was tutor to Edward VI.

4 Milton's treatises were on the subject

As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs!
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,

Which after held the sun and moon in fee.
But this is got by casting pearl to hogs;*
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,
And still revolt when truth would set them free.
Licence they mean when they cry Liberty;
For who loves that, must first be wise and good;
But from that mark how far they rove we see
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.2

3

XIII.

TO MR. H. LAWES ON THE PUBLISHING HIS AIRS.

HARRY, whose tuneful and well measured song
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas' ears, committing short and long;*
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praise enough for envy to look wan;

4

To after age thou shalt be writ the man,

That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongva
Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her wing
To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire,
That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story."
Dante shall give fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella," whom he woo'd to sing
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

of "Divorce." The Presbyterian clergy were much (and justly) scandalized at them, and brought Milton before the Lords for them; but they thought the subject simply speculative, and he was discharged. He thus stigmatizes the Presbyterian clergy.

1 See OVID, Met. VI. fab. iv. "Latona's progeny" were Apollo and Diana, the sun god and moon goddess.

2 A fine moral, coming, too, from a Republican poet.

3 The musician who put the music to 'Comus.'

4 Midas, a King of Phrygia. He decided that l'an was superior in singing

and playing on the flute to Apollo; and, to punish his stupidity, Apollo changed his ears into those of an ass.

5 A Latinism, meaning offences against quantity.-RICHARDSON.

6 The "Story of Ariadne," set by Lawes.--WARTON.

7 Amongst the souls in Purgatory, Dante recognizes his friend Casella, the musician. In the course of an affectionate conversation, Dante asks for a song to soothe him, and Casella sings, with ravishing sweetness, the poet's second Canzone. See second cant. of Dante's "Purgatorio."

XIV.

ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHERINE

THOMSON,'

MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED 16TH DEC. 1646.

WHEN faith and love, which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with GOD,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load

Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth sever.
Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour,
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But, as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith, who knew them best
Thy handmaids, clad them o'er with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

XV.

TO THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX."

1648.

FAIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe rings,
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze
And rumours loud, that daunt remotest kings,
Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings
Victory home, though new rebellions raise

Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays
Her broken league3 to imp their serpent wings.

When Milton was first made Latin Secretary to Cromwell, he lodged at a Mr. Thomson's, next to the "Bull Head" Tavern, Charing Cross. Mrs. Thomson is supposed to have been the wife of his landlord.-NEWTON.

2 Addressed to Fairfax at the siege of Colchester. It was first printed, to

gether with the two following sonnets, and the two to Cyriack Skinner, at the end of Phillips's "Life of Milton," 1694. -WARTON.

3 The English Parliament held that the Scotch had broken their covenant by marching into England, led by Hamilton.

Oyet a nobler task awaits thy hand,

(For what can war, but endless war still breed?)
Till truth and right from violence be freed,
And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand
Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed,
While avarice and rapine share the land.

CROMWELL, Our chief of men, who through a cloud
Not of war only, but detractions rude,

Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,

To peace and truth thy glorious way hast plough'd,
And on the neck of crownèd fortune proud

Hast rear❜d God's trophies, and his work pursued,
While Darwen stream1 with blood of Scots imbrued,
And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud,

And Worcester's 2 laureat wreath. Yet much remains
To conquer still; peace
hath her victories

No less renown'd than war: new foes arise

Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains:
Help us to save free conscience from the

paw

Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their maw.

A small river near Preston, in Lancashire, where Cromwell defeated the Scots under the Duke of Hamilton in August, 1648.

Dunbar and Worcester were both

fought September 3-one 1650, the other 1651.

3 He alludes to the Presbyterian clergy. They tried to persuade Cromwell to use the secular power against Sectaries.

XVII.

TO SIR HENRY VANE THE YOUNGER."

1652.

VANE, young in years, but in sage counsel old,
Than whom a better senator ne'er held

The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repell'd
The fierce Epirot and the African bold,

Whether to settle peace, or to unfold

The drift of hollow states 2 hard to be spell'd,
Then to advise how war may, best upheld,
Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold
In all her equipage: besides to know

Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means,
What severs each, thou hast learn'd, which few have
The bounds of either sword to thee we owe:

Therefore on thy firm hand Religion leans
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.

[done :

XVIII.

ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT.3

AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold;
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones,

1 This sonnet seems to have been written in behalf of the Independents against the Presbyterian hierarchy. Vane was the chief of the Independents, and therefore Milton's friend. He was a most eccentric character, a mixture of the wildest fanaticism and good sense. He was beheaded after the Restoration, 1662.- From WARTON.

2 The States of Holland.

3 In 1665 the Duke of Savoy determined to make his reformed sub

jects in Piedmont return to the Roman Church. All who refused compliance with the sovereign's will were massacred. Those who escaped, concealed in their mountain fastnesses, sent to Cromwell for relief. Milton's holy indignation found expression in this fine sonnet, which was of great effect. Cromwell commanded a general fast, and a national contribution for the relief of the sufferers. £40,000 were collected. He then wrote to the Duke: and so