Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight; the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice:
Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear

Thy voice-my own affrights me with its echoes."

C. THE DEBT OF PARADISE LOST' TO MODERN AUTHORS.

There has been no lack of discussion on supposed sources of 'Paradise Lost.' The four works most likely to have furnished hints to Milton are—(1) Andreini's 'Adamo,' 1613; (2) Cædmon's Paraphrase (see p. 31, 1. 29, note); (3) ' Adamus Exul,' of 1601, a juvenile Latin tragedy by Hugo Grotius, whom Milton met in 1638; (4) Vondel's 'Lucifer,' a five-act tragedy in Dutch Alexandrines played at Amsterdam in 1654. But the influence of these is in no case absolutely proved, and has been often over-stated.

The following facts may serve as a chronological outline: In 1727 Voltaire suggested Milton's debt to Andreini's 'Adamo,' which he may have seen performed at Milan. In 1750 appeared, with a Preface by Samuel Johnson, William Lauder's 'Essay on Milton's Use and Imitation of the Moderns in his Paradise Lost': this attempted to prove Milton a plagiarist by citing parallels from a large number of modern Latin writers; but its forgeries were exposed by Rev. J. Douglas, and Lauder was forced to sign a confession dictated by Johnson. In 1807 Sharon Turner maintained that Cædmon's paraphrase of Genesis had influenced Milton. In 1879 Mr Gosse, in one of his 'Studies of the Literature of Northern Europe,' moderately concluded that parts of Vondel had deeply impressed Milton. In 1885 Mr G. Edmundson in his 'Milton and Vondel: A Curiosity in Literature,' by means of an array of parallel passages, sought to prove that Milton had borrowed from Vondel's works at large, and not simply from the 'Lucifer.'

The whole subject is discussed by Prof. Masson in his edition of Milton's Poetical Works, ii. 120-164. In particular, answering Mr Edmundson, he shows that over nineteen - twentieths of the

parallels are inevitably due to the hereditary character of the theme, which is chiefly Biblical. It may be allowed that Milton knew Dutch, and that even in his blindness he had Vondel read to him, without admitting the extensive pillage in which Mr Edmundson believes.

D. TWO OF MILTON'S SONNETS.

[See Johnson's remarks, pp. 72, 73, and the notes on that
passage.]

ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT.

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;
Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,
Forget not in thy book record their groans

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled
Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans
The vales redoubled to the hills and they
To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow
O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway
The triple Tyrant; that from these may grow

A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way,
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

ON HIS BLINDNESS.

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best.

:

Is kingly thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait."

His state

E. THREE SONGS FROM MILTON'S 'COMUS.'

[See note on Johnson's 'Milton,' p. 72, 24.]

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,

By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-embroidered vale

Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair

That likest thy Narcissus are?

O, if thou have

Hid them in some flowery cave,

Tell me but where,

Sweet Queen of Parley, Daughter of the Sphere!

So may'st thou be translated to the skies,

And give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies!

Sabrina fair,

Listen where thou art sitting

Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,
In twisted braid of lilies knitting

The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ;
Listen for dear honour's sake,

Goddess of the silver lake,

Listen and save!

By the rushy-fringed bank,

Where grows the willow and the osier dank,
My sliding chariot stays,

Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen
Of turkis blue, and emerald green,

That in the channel strays:
Whilst from off the waters fleet
Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.
Gentle swain, at thy request
I am here!

F.-CATO'S SOLILOQUY BEFORE HIS SUICIDE.

[See Johnson's 'Addison,' pp. 154, 155.]

It must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well :
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror,
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;

'Tis Heaven itself, that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.

Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,

Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.
Here will I hold. If there's a Power above

(And that there is all Nature cries aloud,

Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ;
And that which he delights in must be happy.

But when or where-this world was made for Cæsar.

I'm weary of conjectures-this must end them.

[Laying his hand on his sword.

Thus I am doubly armed: my death, my life,
My bane and antidote, are both before me.
This in a moment brings me to an end;
But this informs me I shall never die.
The soul, secured in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point,
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
What means this heaviness that hangs upon me?
This lethargy that creeps through all my senses?
Nature oppressed, and harassed out with care,
Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,
That my awakened soul may take her flight,
Renewed in all her strength, and fresh with life,
An offering fit for heaven. Let guilt or fear
Disturb man's rest; Cato knows neither of them;
Indifferent in his choice to sleep or die.

-Addison's 'Cato,' Act V. sc. i.

G.-JOHNSON RELICS IN PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD.

1. The Portrait by Reynolds: in the Senior Common Room. 2. An inferior portrait, said to be Reynolds (but this is doubtful):

in the Master's House.

3. A copy of the National Gallery Reynolds: in the Hall.

4. A small pencil sketch, framed in the College Library.

:

5. A bust by Bacon, copied from the statue in St Paul's Cathe

dral in the Library.

6. The desk which Johnson used in writing the Dictionary: in the

Library.

7. The desk which Johnson used when at Edial Hall: in the

Library.

8. His teapot, old Worcester china, blue and white: in the second Common Room. It holds about two quarts.