the condition of the prophet Phineus in the Argo nautics: Him vapours dark Envelop'd, and the earth appeared to roll But I should not omit to fay, that while I had fome little fight remaining, as foon as I went to bed, and reclined on either fide, a copious light used to dart from my closed eyes; then, as my fight grew daily lefs, darker colours feemed to burst forth with vehemence, and a kind of internal noife; but now, as if every thing lucid were extinguished, blackness, either abfolute or chequered, and interwoven as it were with ash-colour, is accustomed to pour itself on my eyes; yet the darkness perpetually before them, as well during the night as in the day, seems always approaching rather to white, than to black, admitting, as the as the eye rolls, a minute portion of light as through a crevice. Though from your physician such a portion of hope alfo may arife, yet, as under an evil that admits no cure, I regulate and tranquilize my mind, often reflecting, that fince the days of darkness allotted to each, as the wife man reminds us, are many, hitherto my darkness, by the fingular mercy of God, with the aid of study, leisure, and the kind converfation of my friends, is much less oppressive than the deadly darkness to which he alludes. For if, as it is written, man lives not by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God, why fhould not a man acquiefce even in this? not thinking that he can derive light from his eyes alone, alone, but esteeming himself fufficiently enlightened by the conduct or providence of God. “As long, therefore, as he looks forward, and provides for me as he does, and leads me backward and forward by the hand, as it were, through my whole life, fhall I not cheerfully bid my eyes keep holiday, fince fuch appears to be his pleasure? But, whatever may be the event of your kindness, my dear Philaras, with a mind not lefs refolute and firm than if I were Lynceus himself, I bid you farewell. "Westminster, Sept. 28, 1654." We have no reason to imagine that Milton received any kind of medical benefit from the friendly intention of this amiable foreigner. Strange as the idea may at first appear, perhaps it was better for him, as a man and as a poet, to remain without a cure; for his devout tenderness and energy of mind had fo far converted his calamity into a bleffing, that it feems rather to have promoted than obftructed both the happiness of his life and the perfection of his genius. We have feen, in the admirable fonnet on his blindness, how his reflections on the confcientious labour by which he loft his eyes gave a dignified fatisfaction to his fpirit. In one of his profe works he expreffes a fentiment on the same fubject, that fhews, in the most striking point of view, the meeknefs and fublimity of his devotion. He exults in his misfortune, and feels it endeared to him by the perfuafion, that to be blind is to be placed more immediately under the conduct and providence providence of God: when regarded in this manner, it could not fail to quicken and invigorate his mental powers. Blindness, indeed, without the aid of religious enthusiasm, has a natural tendency to favour that undisturbed, intenfe, and continual meditation, which works of magnitude require. Perhaps we sometimes include in the catalogue of dif advantages the very circumstances that have been partly inftrumental in leading extraordinary men to distinction. In examining the lives of illuftrious scholars we may difcover, that many of them arofe to glory by the impulfe of perfonal misfortune; Bacon and Pope were deformed; Homer and Milton were blind. It has been frequently remarked, that the blind are generally cheerful; it is not therefore marvellous that Milton was very far from being difpirited by the utter extinction of his fight; but his unconquerable vigour of mind was fignally displayed in continuing to labour under all the pains and inconveniencies of approaching blindness, a ftate peculiarly unfavourable to mental exertion. *Sed neque ego cæcis afflictis mærentibus imbecillis tametfi vos id miferum ducitis aggregari me difcrucior; quando quidem fpes eft, eo me propriùs ad mifericordiam fummi patris atque tutelam pertinere. Eft quoddam per imbecillitatem præeunte apoftolo ad maximas vires iter: fim ego debiliffimus; dummodo in mea debilitate immortalis ille et melior vigor eo fe efficacius exerat ; dummodo in meis tenebris divini vultus lumen eo clarius eluceat, tum enim infirmiffimus ero fimul et validiffimus cæcus eodem tempore et perfpicaciffimus; hac poffim ego infirmitate confummari, hac perfici poffim in hac obfcuritate fic ego irradiari. Et fanè 'haud ultima Dei cura cæci fumus ; qui nos quo minus quicquam aliud præter ipfum cernere valemus, eo clementius atque benignius refpicere dignatur.-Profe Works, vol. 2. p. 376. From From the very eloquent preface to his Defence we learn, that while he was engaged on that compofition, and eager to throw into it all the force of his exalted mind, "his infirmity obliged him to "work only by ftarts, and fcarce to touch, in fhort "periods of study broken by hourly interruptions, "what he wished to pursue with continued appli❝cation *." In this most uneafy and perilous labour he exerted his failing eyes to the utmoft, and, to repeat his own triumphant expreffion, Loft them overply'd In liberty's defence. His left eye became utterly blind in 1651, the year in which the book that he alludes to was published, and he loft the ufe of the other in 1654, the year in which he wrote concerning his blindness to his Athenian friend. In this interval he repeatedly changed his abode. As every spot inhabited by fuch a man acquires a fort of confecration in the fancy of his admirers, I fhall here transcribe from his nephew the particulars of his refidence. "First he lodged at one Thomson's, next door * Quod fi quis miretur fortè cur ergò tam diu intactum et ovantem, noftroque omnium filentio inflatum volitare paffi fumus de aliis fane nefcio, de me audacter poffum dicere, non mihi verba aut argumenta quibus caufam tuerer tam bonam diu quærenda aut investiganda fuiffe fi otium et valetudinem (quæquidem fcribendi laborem ferre poffit) nactus effem. Quâ cum adhuc etiam tenui admodum utar carptim hæc cogor et intercifis pene fingulis horis vix attingere, quæ continenti ftylo atque ftudio perfequi debuiffem.-Profe Works, vol. 2. p. 278. "to the Bull Head tavern at Charing Crofs, open ing into the Spring Garden, which feems to "have been only a lodging taken till his designed "apartment in Scotland Yard was prepared for "him; for hither he foon removed from the afore"faid place, and here his third child, a fon, was "born, which, through the ill-ufage or bad con"ftitution of an ill-chofen nurfe, died an infant. "From this apartment, whether he thought it not "healthy or otherwife convenient for his ufe, or "whatever elfe was the reafon, he foon after' took "a pretty garden-houfe in Petty France, in Weft"minster, next door to the Lord Scudamore's, "and opening into St. James's Park, where he re"mained no lefs than eight years, namely, from "the year 1652 till within a few weeks of King "Charles the Second's restoration." Philips alfo informs us, that while his uncle lodged at Thomson's he was employed in revising and polishing the Latin work of his youngest nephew John, who, on the publication of a fevere attack upon Milton, afcribed to Bramhall, Bishop of Derry, vindicated his illuftrious relation, and fatirized his fuppofed adverfary with a keenness and vehemence of invective, which induced, perhaps, fome readers to fufpect that the performance was written entirely by Milton. The traces, however, of a young hand are evident in the work; and John Philips, at the time it appeared, 1652, was a youth of nineteen or twenty, eager (as he declares) to engage unfolicited in a compofition, which, however abound |