PART II. INCONCUSSA TENENS DUBIO VESTIGIA MUNDO. LUCAN. HE narrative may proceed from the information of TH Milton himself. On his return he procured a refidence in London, ample enough for himself and his books, and felt happy in renewing his interrupted studies *. This first establishment (as we learn from his nephew) was a lodging in St. Bride's Church-yard, where he received, as his disciples, the two fons of his fifter, John and Edward Philips; the latter is his biographer; but although he has written the life of his illuftrious relation with a degree of laudable pride and affectionate spirit, he does not communicate that abundance of information, which might have been expected from the advantage he poffeffed. In one article his pride has a ludicrous effect, as it leads him into an awkward attempt to vindicate his uncle from the fancied opprobrium of having engaged profeffionally in the education of youth; a profeffion which, from its utility and impor *Ipfe, ficubi poffem, tam rebus turbatis & fluctuantibus, locum confiftendi circumfpiciens mihi librifque meis, fat amplam in urbe domum conduxi; ibi ad intermiffa ftudia 4 beatulus me recepi; rerum exitu deo imprimis & quibus id muneris populus dabat, facilè permiflo.' tance, tance, from the talents and virtues it requires, is unquestionably entitled to respect. Philips will not allow that his uncle actually kept a school, as he taught only the fons of his particular friends. Johnson ridicules this distinction, and seems determined to treat Milton as a profest schoolmaster, for the sake of attempting to prove, that he did not sustain the character with advantage, but adopted a vain and prepofterous plan of education. "Let me not be cenfured," fays the Doctor, as pedantic "or paradoxical; for if I have Milton against me, I have "Socrates on my fide: it was his labour to turn philofophy from the study of nature to fpeculations upon life; "but the innovators, whom I oppofe, are turning off atten"tion from life to nature; they feem to think that we are placed here to watch the growth of plants, or the "motions of the ftars; Socrates was rather of opinion, "that what we had to learn was, how to do good and avoid "evil." Οτι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόντ ̓ ἀγαθόνε τέτυκται. This infidious artifice of representing Milton and Socrates as antagonists is peculiarly unfortunate, fince no man appears to have imbibed the principles of Socratic wisdom more deeply than our poet; his regard and attachment to them is fervently expreffed, even in his juvenile letters ; the very maxims of moral truth, which he is accused of counteracting, never shone with more luftre than in the following paffage of the Paradise Loft: But But apt the mind or fancy is to rove Till warn'd, or by experience taught, fhe learn, Is the prime wifdom; what is more is fume, And renders us in things that most concern, These beautiful lines are built in some measure, as Bentley has remarked, upon a verfe of Homer, the very verse admired by Socrates, which Dr. Johnson has not fcrupled to quote, as a part of his fingular ill-grounded attempt to prove that Milton's ideas of education were in direct oppofition to those of the great moralift of Greece; an attempt that arose from a very inoffenfive boaft of Milton's nephew, who gives a long lift of books perused by the scholars of his uncle, which merely proves, that they read more books than are usually read in our common fchools; and that their diligent inftructor thought it advifable for boys, as they approach towards fixteen, to blend a little knowledge of the sciences with their Greek and Latin..! " That he taught the familiar and useful doctrine of the Attic philosopher, even in his lighter poetry, we have a pleafing inftance in the following lines of his fonnet to Syriac Skinner, who was one of his scholars: "To measure life learn thou betimes, and know But But his brief treatise, addreffed to Hartlib, affords, perhaps, the best proof that his ideas of moral discipline were perfectly in unifon with those of Socrates; he says, in that treatife, "I call a complete and generous education that, “which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magna"nimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace Who can define a good education in terms "and war. Milton, however, in his attachment to morality, forgot not the claims of religion; his Sundays were devoted to theology, and Johnson duly praises the care, with which he inftructed his scholars in the primary duties of men. With a critic fo fincerely devout as Johnson unqueftionably was, we might have hoped that the fublime piety of our author would have secured him from farcastic attacks; but we have yet to notice two infults of this kind, which the acrimony of uncorrected spleen has lavished upon Milton as a preceptor. "From this wonder-working academy," fays the biogra~ pher, "I do not know that there ever proceeded any man << very eminent for knowledge; its only genuine product,. I “ believe, is a small history of poetry, written in Latin by "his nephew, of which, perhaps, none of my readers ever “heard.” The contemptuous spirit and the inaccuracy of this farcafm are equally remarkable. The scholars of Milton were far from being numerous. Can it be just to speak with derision of a small academy, merely because it raises no celebrated author, when we confider how few of that defcription every nation produces? We know little of those, who . who were under the tuition of our poet, except his two nephews; these were both writers; and a biographer of Milton fhould not have utterly forgotten his obligations to Edward Philips, if he allowed no credit to his brother, for the spirited Latin treatise in which that young man appeared as the defender of his uncle. But the ftriking inaccuracy of the critic confifts in not giving a juft account of a book that particularly claimed his attention, Philips's Theatrum Poetarum, a book that, under a Latin title, contains in English a very comprehensive lift of poets, ancient and modern, with reflections upon many of them, particularly thofe of our own nation. It is remarkable that this book was licensed Sept. 14, 1674, just two months before the death of Milton, and printed the following year. The author affigns an article both to his uncle and his brother. After enumerating the chief works of the former, he modestly says, "how far he hath revived the majesty and "true decorum of heroic poefy and tragedy, it will better "become a person less related than myself to deliver his judgment." Though he here fuppreffes a defire to praise his most eminent relation, it bursts forth in an amiable manner, when he comes to speak of his brother; for he calls him, "the maternal nephew and difciple of an author of most "deserved fame, late deceased, being the exactest of heroic poets (if the truth were well examined, and it is the opi"nion of many, both learned and judicious perfons) either "of the ancients or moderns, either of our own or whatever "nation elfe." |