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Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,
Di timori, e speranze, al popol use,
Quanto d' ingegno, e d'alto valor vago,
E di cetra sonora, e delle muse :

Sol troverete in tal parte men duro,

Ove Amor mise l' insanabil ago.



How soon hath Time", the subtle thief of youth,

Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near;

And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great Task-master's eye.

8 L'insanabil ago.

Milton had a natural severity of mind. For love-verses, his Italian sonnets have a remarkable air of gravity and dignity: they are free from the metaphysics of Petrarch, and are more in the manner of Dante: yet he calls his seventh sonnet, in a letter printed from the Cambridge manuscript by Birch, a composition in the Petrarchian stanza. In 1762, the late Mr. Thomas Hollis examined the Laurentian library at Florence, for six Italian sonnets of Milton, addressed to his friend Chimentelli; and for other Italian and Latin compositions and various original letters, said to be remaining in manuscript at Florence: he searched also for an original bust in marble of Milton, supposed to be somewhere in that city but he was unsuccessful in his curious inquiries.-T. WARTON.

This bust of Milton is now in England: it is beautifully carved, small, and in a very architectural case of mahogany. The likeness shows both the features and the age of the poet.-J. B.

Mr. Hayley justly considers this sonnet as a very spirited and singular sketch of the poet's own character. - TODD.

h How soon hath Time, &c.

This sonnet was written at Cambridge in 1631, and sent in the following letter to a friend, who had importuned our author to take orders:

"Sir,—Besides that, in sundry other respects, I must acknowledge me to profit by you whenever we meet; you are often to me, and were yesterday especially, as good a watchman to admonish that the hours of the night pass on, (for so I call my life, as yet obscure and unserviceable to mankind) and that the day with me is at hand, wherein Christ commands all to labour while there is light: which because I am persuaded you do to no other purpose, than out of a true desire that God should be honoured in every one, I therefore think myself bound, though unaskt, to give you account, as oft as occasion is, of this my tardy moving, according to the precept of my conscience, which I firmly trust is not without God. Yet now I will not streine for any set apologie, but only refere myself to what my mind shall have at any time, to declare herself at her best case. But if you think as you said. that too much love of learning is in fault, and that I have given up myself to dreame away my years in the arms of a studious retirement, like Endymion with the Moone, as the tale of Latmus goes; yet consider, that if it were no more than the meer love of learning,

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CAPTAIN, or Colonel, or Knight in arms,

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize,
If deed of honour did thee ever please,

Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
He can requite thee; for he knows the charms
That call fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas,
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower:

The great Emathian conquerour bid spare

whether it proceed from a principle bad, good, or naturall, it could not have held out thus long against so strong opposition on the other side of every kind. For, if it be bad, why should not all the fond hopes, that forward youthe and vanitie are fledged with, together with gaine, pride, and ambition, call me forward more powerfully, than a poor, regardless, and unprofitable sin of curiosity should be able to withhold me, whereby a man cuts himselfe off from all action, and becomes the most helplesse, pusillanimous, and unweaponed creature in the world; the most unfit and unable to do that, which all mortals most aspire to; either to be usefull to his friends, or to offend his enemies. Or, if it be to be thought a natural pronenesse, there is against that a much more potent inclination inbred, which about this time of a man's life sollicits most the desire of house and family of his owne, to which nothing is esteemed more helpful, than the early entering into credible employment, and nothing more hindring than this affected solitarinesse; and tho' this were enough, yet there is to this another act, if not of pure, yet of refined nature, no lesse availeable to dissuade prolonged obscurity; a desire of honour, and repute, and immortal fame, seated in the breast of every true scholar; which all make haste to, by the readiest ways of publishing and divulging conceived merits, as well those that shall, as those that never shall obtain it. Nature would presently work the more prevalent way, if there were nothing but this inferiour bent to restraine her. Lastly, the love of learning, as it is the pursuit of something good, it would sooner follow the more excellent and supreme good known and presented, and so be quickly exempted from the emptie and fantastic chase of shadows and notions, to the solid good flowing from due and tymely obedience to that command in the Gospel, sett out by the terrible seasing of him that hid the talent. It is more probable therefore that, not the endlesse delight of speculation, but this very consideration of that great commandment, does not presse forward as soon as many doe to undergoe, but keeps off with a sacred reverence and religious advisement how best to undergoe; not taking thought of being late, so it give advantage to be more fit; for those that were latest lost nothing when the maister of the vineyard came in to give each one his hire. And here I am come to a stream-head, copious enough to disburthen itself like Nilus at seven mouths into an ocean but then I should also run into a reciprocall contradiction of ebbing and flowing at once, and do that which I excuse myself for not doing, preach and not preach. Yet that you may see I am something suspicious of myselfe, and do take notice of a certain belatednesse in me, I am the bolder to send you some of my nightward thoughts, some while since, because they come in not altogether unfitly, made up in a Petrarchian stanza, which I told you of:

How soon hath Time, &c.

By this I believe you may well repent of having made mention at all of this matter; for if I have not all this while won you to this, I have certainly wearied you of it. This therefore alone may be a sufficient reason for me to keep me as I am; least, having thus tired you singly, I should deal worse with a whole congregation, and spoyle all the patience of a parish; for I myself do not only see my own tediousnesse, but now grow offended with it, that has hindered me thus long from coming to the last and best period of my letter, and that which must now chiefly work my pardon ;-that I am your true and unfained friend, 66 JOHN MILTON."

The house of Pindarus', when temple and tower
Went to the ground: and the repeated air
Of sad Electra's poet' had the power

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.



LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth;
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light,
And hope that reaps not shame.

Therefore be sure,

Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends'

Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,

Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.

iThe great Emathian conquerour bid spare

The house of Pindarus.

As a poet, Milton had as good right to expect this favour as Pindar; nor was the English monarch less a protector of the arts, and a lover of poetry, than Alexander, As a subject, Milton was too conscious that his situation was precarious, and that his seditious tracts had forfeited all pretensions to his sovereign's mercy. Mr. Bowle here refers us to Pliny, L. vn. c. 29" Alexander Magnus Pindari vatis familiæ penatibusque jussit parci, cum The bas caperet ;" and to the old commentator on Spenser's" Pastorals," who relates this incident more at large, and where it might have first struck Milton, as a great reader of Spenser. Ælian says, that in this havoc, Alexander honoured the family of Pindar, and suffered his house alone to stand untouched and entire; having killed 90,000 Thebans, and taken 30,000 prisoners.-T. WARTON.

Of sad Electra's poet, &c.

Plutarch relates, that when the Lacedemonian general Lysander took Athens, it was proposed in a council of war entirely to rase the city and convert its site into a desert: but during the debate, at a banquet of the chief officers, a certain Phocian sung some fine anastrophics from a chorus of the "Electra" of Euripides; which so affected the hearers, that they declared it an unworthy act, to reduce a place, so celebrated for the production of illustrious men, to total ruin and desolation. The lines of Euripides are at ver. 168. It appears, however, that Lysander ordered the walls and fortifications to be demolished. By the epithet" sad," Milton denominates the pathetic character of Euripides. Repeated signifies recited. But it has been ingeniously suggested, that the epithet "sad" belongs to Electra, who very often so calls herself in Euripides a play; and says, that all the city gave her the same appellation.-T. WARTON.

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Electra had been before denominated "sad" by Drummond, in his "Elegy on Prince Henry's death:"And sad Electra's sisters, who still weepe.

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This is one of Milton's best Sonnets, as Mr. Warton observes. It was written in 1642, when the king's army was arrived at Brentford, and had thrown the whole city into con sternation-TODD.

Rom. v. 5.-HURD.

And hope that reaps not shame.

1 When the bridegroom with his feastful friends. "Feastful" is an epithet in Spenser. He alludes to the midnight feasting of the Jews before the consummation of marriage.-T. WARTON.

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DAUGHTER to that good earl ", once president
Of England's council and her treasury,

Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till sad the breaking of that parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory,
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent ".
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you,
Madam, methinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.



A BOOK was writ of late call'd "Tetrachordon ","
And woven close, both matter, form, and style;
The subject new: it walk'd the town awhile,
Numbering good intellects; now seldom pored on.

m Daughter to that good earl.

She was the daughter of Sir James Ley, whose singular learning and abilities raised him through all the great posts of the law, till he came to be made Earl of Marlborough, and Lord High Treasurer, and Lord President of the Council to King James I. He died in an advanced age; and Milton attributes his death to "the breaking of the parliament;" and it is true that the parliament was dissolved the 10th of March, 1628-9, and he died on the 14th of the same month. He left several sons and daughters; and the Lady Margaret was married to Captain Hobson, of the Isle of Wight. It appears, from the accounts of Milton's life, that in 1643 he used frequently to visit this lady and her husband; about which time we may suppose this Sonnet to have been composed.-NEWTON.

Isocrates, the orator.


Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.

The victory was gained by Philip of Macedon over the Athenians.

Dr. Johnson says of this and the next Sonnet, that "the first is contemptible, and the second not excellent;" and yet he had unfairly selected the contemptible Sonnet as a specimen, in his Dictionary, of this species of verse in English. But Milton wrote this Sonnet in sport.-TODD.

After this proved fact, who can doubt Johnson's malignity and dishonesty towards Milton ?

PA book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon.

This elaborate discussion, unworthy in many respects of Milton, and in which much acuteness of argument and comprehension of reading were idly thrown away, was received with contempt, or rather ridicule, as we learn from Howell's "Letters." A better proof that it was treated with neglect is, that it was attacked by two nameless and obscure writers only; one of whom Milton calls, "a serving-man turned solicitor." Our author's divorce was on Platonic principles: he held, that disagreement of mind was a better cause of separation than adultery or frigidity: here was a fair opening for the laughers. This and the following Sonnet were written soon after 1645. For this doctrine Milton was summoned

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,
Celkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?

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 Cheek,
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,

When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward, Greek.



I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs

By the known rules of ancient liberty,

Par. Milton wished he

before the lords: but they not approving his accusers, the presbyterian clergy, or thinking the business too speculative, he was quickly dismissed. On this occasion Milton commenced bostilities against the presbyterians. He illustrates his own system in this line of Lost," b. ix. 372. Go; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more." had not written this work in English. This is observed by Mr. Bowle, who points out the following proof, in the "Defensio Secunda:"-" Vellem hoc tantum, sermone vernaculo me non scripsisse: non enim in vernas lectores incidissem, quibus solenne est sua bona ignorare, aliorum mala irridere." This was one of Milton's books published in cou"Tetrachordon" signifies exposequence of his divorce [separation] from his first wife. sitions on the four chief places in Scripture which mention marriage or nullities in marriage. -T. WARTON.

A Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp.

Milton is here collecting, from his hatred to the Scots, what he thinks Scottish names of an ill sound. "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 Macdonalds of that family are styled, by way of distinction, "Mac Collcittok," i. e. descendants of lame Colin. "Galasp" is a Scottish writer against the independents; for whom see Milton's verses "On the Forcers of Conscience," &c. He is George Gillespie, one of the Scotch members of the assembly of divines, as his name is subscribed to their letter to the Belgic, French, and Helvetian churches, dated 1643: in which they pray, "that these three nations may be joined as one stick in the hands of the Lord; that all mountains may become plains before them and us; that then all who now see the plummet in our hands, may also behold the top-stone set upon the head of the Lord's house among us, and may help us with shouting to cry, Grace, grace to it." Rushw. p. 371. Such was the rhetoric of these reformers of reformation!-T. WARTON.

↑ Sir John Cheek.

Or Cheke: he was the first professor of the Greek tongue in the university of Cam bridge, and was highly instrumental in bringing that language into repute, and restoring the original pronunciation of it; though with great opposition from the patrons of ignorance and popery, and especially from Gardiner, bishop of Winchester and chancellor of the university. He was afterwards made one of the tutors to Edward VI. See his Life by Strype, or in the "Biographia Britannica."-NEWTON.


The preceding Sonnet is evidently of a ludicrous, the present of a more contemptuous There is a portrait of the celebrated Spanish poet, Lopez de Vega, painted when he was young; surrounded by dogs, monkeys, and other monsters, and writing in the midst of them, without attending to their noise. It is not improbable that Milton might have seen, or heard of, this curious picture of his contemporary; and be led, in consequence, to describe so minutely, in this Sonnet, the "barbarous noise that environed him.”— Todd.

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