who peruses them for the first time will be astonished to find how familiar he already is with many of their finest thoughts, which have excited such universal sympathy and admiration, that they have become common household words throughout the land.

Milton had long wished to improve his knowledge by observing the customs and institutions of other countries; the death of his mother in 1637, by removing one of the strongest domestic ties, seems to have set him at liberty to prosecute his favourite object; and, accordingly, he obtained his father's consent in the following year, and proceeded on a European tour. He received at this time a friendly letter of advice from the celebrated Sir Henry Wotton, formerly ambassador to the Republic of Venice, in which he intimates his knowledge of the authorship of Comus, adding, "that he had seen yet nothing parallel to it in our language."

On his arrival at Paris, he was introduced by Lord Scudamore to the celebrated Grotius, then ambassador from Christina, Queen of Sweden. The French capital, however, seems to have excited in him but little interest; and after a very brief stay, he proceeded on his route, visiting Nice, Genoa, Pisa, and Florence. The last city excited his liveliest admiration. The place. the language and manners of the people, and the interesting circle of literary men to whom he was introduced, all afforded him a high source of gratification. He continued there above two months, and afterwards kept up frequent correspondence with several eminent men of learning to whom he had been introduced.

From Florence he proceeded to Rome, which impressed his mind as strongly by its decaying monuments of the past, as Florence did by its living beauty; there also he was at once admitted to the society of the most learned men of the day, and derived the highest gratification from the rich stores of classical learning which were thrown open to him in the library of the Vatican

After visiting Naples, he was preparing to continue

his travels through Sicily and Greece, when the news of the state of affairs at home, just then tending to the outbreak of the first civil war, induced him to direct his course homeward, "deeming it," says his nephew, "a thing unworthy of him to be diverting himself in security abroad, when his countrymen were contending with an insidious monarch for their liberty." On his way home he again spent some time both at Rome and Florence, though against the advice of some friends who feared he had rendered himself obnoxious to the machinations of the Romanists by the free expressions of his opinions. It little coincided with the courage and nobleness of his mind, either to shun such danger, or by a line of duplicity, to avoid such offence. Without courting controversy, he never hesitated freely to express opinions when circumstances seemed to require it, and though not without some danger, he returned home in safety, with his mind stored with enlarged views, and his imagination filled with the grandeur and beauty derived from beholding the noble remains of ancient Rome, and the most splendid creations of modern art. He had visited and conversed with the great Galileo, then a prisoner in the Inquisition, and in spite of his religion and the bold expression of his opinions, he had formed lasting frindships with some of the most emin. ent men in the south of Europe, and had received from all marks of honour and esteem.

After an absence of about fifteen months, Milton returned to England, just as Charles the First was setting out on his second expedition against the Scots. On his return, he undertook the education of two of his nephews; and soon after he was induced by some of his friends to admit their sons to the same privilege. On this Dr. Johnson remarks, "Let not our veneration for Milton forbid us to look with some degree of merriment on great promises and small performance: on the man who hastens home because his countrymen are contending for their liberty, and when he reaches the scene

of action, vapours away his patriotism in a private boarding-school." This unworthy sneer is easily confuted. Milton knew his own intellectual powers too well -even had he possessed the necessary bodily strength -to imagine that the only, or even the most useful, course that lay open for him in the cause of liberty, was the profession of arms; and his labours with his pen during the long continuance of the contest, afford the best evidence that he lent his energies with no grudging hand to the cause of liberty.

They must be very ignorant of the history of England at this period who imagine that Milton was avoiding the post of danger, in thus taking up the pen as his weapon of war. Laud had already organized that systematic persecution of the Puritans, which by the cruel lawlessness with which it was pursued, needed the evils of a revolution to wipe away the stain from the nation: and the unhappy king, with his high notions of prerogative, had abundantly shown that he would permit no law to stand between him and his opponents. The cruelties enforced by the Star-Chamber on such victims as Prynne, Bastwick, and Leighton, may afford some conception of the dangers that Milton voluntarily dared in returning to his country, and thus boldly defending his opinions at such a time.

From his efforts for the removal of ecclesiastical grievances, he next applied himself to securing the liberty of the press. He had already set at defiance the law's restrictions on its just freedom, and now he exposed with masterly vigour the evils engendered by its thraldom. In this noble work the passage occurs in which he speaks of Galileo, a victim of the same system that denied the free expression of opinions, against which he was now contending. "There it was, in Italy," says he, "that I found and visited the famous Galileo, grown old a prisoner in the Inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than the Franciscan and Dominican licensers thought. And though I knew that England was groan

ing loudest under the prelatic yoke, nevertheless I took it for a pledge of future happiness, that other nations were so persuaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my hope, that those worthies who were then breathing in her air, should be her leaders to such a deliverance as shall never be forgotten by any revolution of time that this world hath to finish."

It was not till a second revolution had finally banished the Stuarts from the throne, that the press was freed from the trammels under which it had been so long restrained, and left to develope its mighty energies for the national well-being.

CHAPTER II

POLITICAL LIFE.

Ar the age of thirty-five, Milton married Mary, the daughter of Richard Powell, a wealthy royalist, and justice of the peace in Oxfordshire. No account is preserved of the circumstances that led to this union; but it proved unhappy, and gave rise to incidents in his life which the biographer would gladly omit. They had only been married a month when the young bride sought permission to spend the rest of the summer with her friends in Oxfordshire. The request is scarcely less singular than the immediate compliance it met with. The period of Michaelmas was fixed for her return, but she came not; and repeated letters from her husband were even left unanswered. Milton then sent a messenger, demanding her immediate return home, when she at length positively refused to come, dismissing his messenger with contempt. From all that appears, the probability seems to be that the fault lay more with her relatives than herself; they seem to have sanctioned the marriage with the zealous republican when their party appeared to be on the wane, and to have repented of the match when a temporary success of the royalists had re

vived their hopes, the haughty cavaliers being probably somewhat ashamed of an alliance with one who took sc active a part against royalty. This at least may be concluded, that she was a young and frivolous girl, little fitted to be the companion of such a man. The reasons assigned in her defence abundantly confirm this: it is stated that she had been accustomed to a great deal of company, with merriment and dancing, so that she found her married life solitary and irksome, and at length went home to her parents.

Whatever were the reasons for her departure, all attempts of Milton to prevail on her to return proved ineffectual; and, with a just feeling of indignation, ne declared that he no longer held her as his wife. This occurrence set him seriously to consider the nature of those obligations involved in the marriage tie, in consequence of which he published his work on the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, which led him into various controversies, conducted on his part with his usual energy.

Fully four years elapsed without Milton meeting with his wife, and he had taken the most decided steps to show his conviction that all ties between them were dissolved. Time, however, had led her to repent of her foolish step; and learning of his intention to visit a common friend, she suddenly presented herself before him, and throwing herself at his feet, with tears besought his forgiveness. A perfect reconciliation took place between them, and so completely did he overlook all that had passed, that he soon after received into his own house her father and mother, and several of her brothers and sisters, affording them an asylum there, and exerting all his political influence in their behalf, when they were involved in the final overthrow of the royal cause.

The pen of Milton was again called into requisition on a subject of the highest public value. He put forth his "Treatise on Education," a work intended to strike at