Into a mind already occupied by fuch fancies, another not more reasonable might easily find its way. He that could fear left his genius had fallen: upon too old a world, or too chill a climate, might confiftently magnify to himfelf the influences of the seasons, and believe his faculties to be vigorous only half the year.

His fubmiffion to the feafons was at leaft more reasonable than his dread of decaying nature, or a frigid zone; for general caufes operate uniformly in a ge-neral abatement of mental power: if less could be performed by the writer, less likewife would content the judges of his work. Among this lagging race of frosty grovellers he might still have rifen into

eminence by producing fomething which they should not willingly let die. However inferior to the heroes who were born in better ages, he might still be great among his contemporaries, with the hope of growing every day greater in the dwindle of pofterity. He might ftill be the giant of the pygmies, the one-eyed monarch of the blind.

Of his artifices of ftudy, or particular hours of compofition, we have little account, and there was perhaps little to be told. Richardson, who feems to have been very diligent in his enquiries, but discovers always a wifh to find Milton difcriminated from other men, relates, that he would fometimes lie awake

whole nights, but not a verfe could

he

<he make; and on a sudden his poeti"cal faculty would rush upon him with an impetus, or aftrum, and his daugh"ter was immediately called to fecure At other times he would

"what came.

"dictate perhaps forty lines in a breath, "and then reduce them to half the "number."

Thefe burfts of light, and involutions of darkness; these transient and involuntary excurfions and retroceffions of invention, having fome appearance of deviation from the common train of Nature, are eagerly caught by the lovers of a wonder. Yet fomething of this inequality happens to every man in every mode of exertion, manual or mental. The mechanick cannot handle his ham

mer

mer and his file at all times with equal dexterity; there are hours, he knows not why, when his hand is out. By Mr. Richardfon's relation, cafually conveyed, much regard cannot be claimed. That, in his intellectual hour, Milton called for his daughter to fecure what came, may be queftioned; for unluckily it happens to be known that his daughters were never taught to write; nor would he have been obliged, as is univerfally confeffed, to have employed any cafual vifiter in difburthening his memory, if his daughter could have performed the office.

The ftory of reducing his exuberance has been told of other authors, and though doubtlefs true of every

fer

fertile and copious mind, feems to have been gratuitoufly tranferred to Milton.

What he has told us, and we cannot now know more, is, that he composed, much of his poem in the night and morning, I fuppofe before his mind was disturbed with common bufinefs; and that he poured out with great fluency his unpremeditated verfe. Verfification, free, like his, from the diftreffes of rhyme, must, by a work fo long, be made prompt and habitual; and, when his thoughts were once adjusted, the words would come at his command.

the

At what particular times of his life

parts of his work were written, cannot often be known. The beginning of the third book fhews that he had loft..