The Latin by him in part, they are, in the opinion of the editor, uninteresting and unreadable. Masson states, 'though they have been in print since 1674, I really have found no evidence that as many as ten persons have read them through before me.' At all events, there is another who has read them through, of whom the biographer has never heard. We shall, therefore, pass them by, only remarking that Masson has restored to its proper connexion the sixth with the first piece in his "Miscellaneous Poems," commencing, “Hail native language," &c., and which is thus headed, "Anno ætatis xix. At a Vacation Exercise in in the College, part Latin, part English. speeches ended, the English thus began." is in prose, that of this sixth Prolusion, and the English is in verse. The above-named writer says, 'the sixth exercise stands by itself, as a voluntary discourse delivered by appointment in the summer vacation, 1628, at a meeting of the youths of the University, held for the purpose of fun and frolic. essay consists of two parts-the first being a dissertation on the compatibility of occasional frolic with philosophical studies; and the second a frolicsome harangue, expressly comic and even coarse, introductory to the other sports of the day. We have the interesting fact, handed down to us by Aubrey and after him by Wood, here authenticated for us by Milton himself, that, at Christ's College, he used to go by the nick The name of 'the Lady?" "An denique ego à Deo aliquo vitiatus ✶✶✶ ut sic repente ἐκ θηλείας εἰς ἄῤῥενά årλax@eínv av? A quibusdam audivi nuper Domina. At cur videor illis parum masculus? verum utinam illi possint tam facile exuere asinos, quam ego quicquid est faminæ." FAMILIAR LETTERS. I.-To his Tutor, Thomas Young. HOUGH I had determined, my excellent tutor, to write you an epistle in verse, yet I could not satisfy myself without sending also another in prose, for the emotions of my gratitude, which your services so justly inspire, are too expansive and too warm to be expressed in the confined limits of poetical metre ; they demand the unrestrained freedom of prose, or rather the exuberant richness of Asiatic phraseology: though it would far exceed my power accurately to describe how much I am obliged to you, even if I could drain dry all the sources of eloquence, or exhaust all the topics of discourse which Aristotle or the famed Parisian Logician has collected. You complain with truth that my letters have been very few and very short; but I do not grieve at the omission of so pleasurable a duty, so much as I rejoice at having such a place in your regard as makes you anxious often to hear from me. I beseech you not to take it amiss, that I have not now written to you for more than three years; but with your usual benignity impute it rather to circumstances than to inclination. For heaven knows, that I regard you as a Parent (te instar Patris colam), that I have always treated you with the utmost respect, and that I was unwilling to tease you with my compositions. And I was anxious that if my letters had nothing else to recommend them, they might be recommended by their rarity. And lastly, since the ardour of my regard makes me imagine that you are always present, that I hear your voice and contemplate your looks; and as thus (which is usually the case with lovers) I charm away ny grief by the illusion of your presence, I was afraid when I wrote to you the idea of your distant separation should forcibly rush upon my mind; and that the pain of your absence, which was almost soothed into quiescence, should revive and disperse the pleasurable dream. I long since received your desirable present of the Hebrew Bible. I wrote this at my lodgings in the city, not, as usual, surrounded by my books. If, therefore, there be any thing in this letter which either fails to give pleasure, or which frustrates expectation, it shall be compensated by a more elaborate composition as soon as I return to the dwelling of the Muses." London, March 26, 1625. II.-To Alexander Gill. "I RECEIVED your letters and your poem, with which I was highly delighted, and in which I discover the majesty of a poet, and the style of Virgil. I knew how impossible it would be for a person of your genius entirely to divert his mind from the culture of the muses, and to extinguish those heavenly emotions, and that sacred and ethereal fire which is kindled in your heart. For what Claudian said of himself may be said of you, your "whole soul is instinct with the fire of Apollo." If, therefore, on this occasion, you have broken your own promises, I here commend the want of constancy which you mention; I commend the want of virtue, if any want of virtue there be. But in referring the merits of your poem to my judgment, you confer on me as great an honour as the gods would if the contending musical immortals had called me in to adjudge the palm of victory; as poets babble that it formerly fell to the lot of Tmolus, the guardian of the Lydian mount. I know not whether I ought to congratulate Henry Nassau more on the capture of the city, or the composition of your poems. For I think that this victory produced nothing more entitled to distinction and to fame than your poem. But since you celebrate the successes of our allies in lays so harmonious and energetic, what may we not expect when our own successes call for the congratulations of your muse? Adieu, learned sir, and believe me greatly obliged by the favour of your verses.' London, May 26, 1628. |