Admittedly and indisputably our highest summit in Style. . . . He best proves the truth that in poetry Style is the paramount and invincible force. What else is the secret of his supremacy among our poets a supremacy which no poet can doubt, and no true critic of poetry? For pure poetic endowment he sits unapproached on England's Helicon; yet, in comparison with Shakespeare, it cannot be said that his is a very rich or large nature uttering itself through literature. He has no geniality, he has no humour; he is often pedantic, sometimes pedagogic. Although his Invention was stupendous, in the quite distinct and finer quality of Imagination, or contagious spiritual vision, he has superiors; his human sympathies were neither warm nor broad; Shakespeare's contempt for the mass of mankind may be hesitatingly inferred from casual evidences, but Milton's is everywhere manifest.-WATSON, WILLIAM, 1893, Excursions in Criticism, pp. 105,

110.

So fair thy vision that the night
Abided with thee, lest the light,
A flaming sword before thine eyes,
Had shut thee out from Paradise.
-TABB, JOHN B., 1894, Milton, Poems.

In one respect Milton stands alone in his management of a great poetic medium. Shakespeare, because of the vast license of the English stage and its mixture of verse and prose, here stands out of the comparison, and we know nothing of Homer's predecessors. But no one, not Sophocles with the iambic trimeter, not even Virgil with the Latin hexameter, hardly even Dante with the Italian hendecasyllabic, has achieved such marvellous variety of harmony independent of meaning as Milton has with the English blank verse. All three, perhaps, had a better lexicon it is permissible to think Milton's choice of words anything but infallible. But no one with his lexicon did such astonishing feats. SAINTSBURY, GEORGE, 1895, Social England, ed. Traill, vol. IV, p. 425.

"L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso," the earliest great lyrics of the landscape in our language, despite all later competition still remain supreme for range, variety, lucidity, and melodious charm within their style. And this style is essentially that of the Greek and the earlier English poets, but enlarged to the conception of whole

scenes from Nature; occasionally even panoramic. What we gain from Milton, as these specimens in his very purest vein his essence of landscape-illustrate, is the immense enlargement, the finer proportions, the greater scope, of his scenes from Nature. And with this we have that exquisite style, always noble, always music itself-Mozart without notes --in which Milton is one of the few very greatest masters in all literature: in company at least it pleases me to fancywith Homer and Sophocles, with Vergil, with Dante, with Tennyson.-PALGRAVE, FRANCIS TURNER, 1896, Landscape in Poetry, pp. 158, 159.

It attests the native power and superiority of Milton's genius that he was able almost entirely to liberate himself from fetters which still so largely trammelled alike the poetry and the prose literature of his age. Of this his "Lycidas" supplies a striking illustration a strain of exquisite pathos and beauty rising up amid the forced and jejune conceits which characterize the verses of his fellow mourners, much like the voice of the lady in his "Comus" amid the cries of the wanton revellers around her. In his "Areopagitica" Milton seems himself carried away by this native spirit of independence; and his utterances, noble as is the spirit by which they are dictated, cannot be vindicated from the reproach of neglecting both the historical evidence and the general principles necessary to an adequate conduct of the argument.-MULLINGER, J. BASS, 1897, The Age of Milton, Introduction, p. xviii.

It is certain that Milton deals with the invisible more than any other poet that ever lived. . Milton has not the spontaneity of imagination that distinguishes Shakespeare, nor has he so large a nature, but his sense of form is more unfailing, and in loftiness of character he towers far above the bard of Avon. Puritan as he is, he is more of an aristocrat, and more of a man, than is Shakespeare. His nobility of poetic form is but the expression of a lofty soul, thrilled to the center of its being with the greatest of possible themes--the struggle of good and evil, of God and Satan, and the triumph of the Almighty in the redemption of man. When this theme grows old, then will "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise

Regained" grow old. But so long as man recognizes and values his own immortality, so long will the poetry of Milton vindicate. its claim to be immortal.-STRONG, AUGUSTUS HOPKINS, 1897, The Great Poets and Their Theology, pp. 246, 256.

Milton's lyric style is not so purely lyrical and personal; it is rather idyllic and objective. In this he is in a measure the poetic son of Spenser; and he, too, last of the Elizabethans, has a certain turn of lyric rhythm and phrase never afterwards recaptured. "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso" are the objective and idyllic presentations of the two fundamental subjective states of the human soul. In these poems all the rhythmical witchery and the subtle beauty of symbolism developed or suggested in the lyrics of Spenser, Shakespeare, Campion, Fletcher, Drummond, and Browne, is taken up and carried into the last perfection of English idyllic metre and fancy. And the "Lycidas" carries on the vein of earlier Ode and Elegy to a like perfection. Through all the concrete symbolism of these poems, however, we read the suggestion of the new ethical and subjective mood of the time, saturated with and subdued to the genius of the man Milton.-CARPENTER, FREDERIC IVES, 1897, English Lyric Poetry, 1500 1700, Introduction, p. liv.

Every page of the works of that great exemplar of diction, Milton, is crowded with examples of felicitous and exquisite meaning given to the infallible word. Sometimes he accepts the secondary and more usual meaning of a word only to enrich it by the interweaving of the primary and etymological meaning.-RALEIGH, WALTER, 1897, Style, p. 35.

Milton is a solitary peak that caught the last gleams of the Renaissance and flashed them across a century.—GEORGE, ANDREW J., 1898, From Chaucer to Arnold, Types of Literary Art, p. 633.

That the influence of Milton, in the romantic revival of the eighteenth century, should have been hardly second in importance to Spenser's is a confirmation of our remark that Augustan literature was "classical" in a way of its own.

Milton is the most truly classical of English poets; and yet, from the angle of observation at which the eighteenth century viewed him, he appeared a romantic. It was upon his romantic side, at all

events, that the new school of poets apprehended and appropriated him.-BEERS, HENRY A., 1898, A History of English Romanticism, p. 146.

In Milton, the glorious plea for religious and political freedom is of a haughty antique strain compatible with entire disregard of the welfare of the masses.—SCUDDER, VIDA D., 1898, Social Ideals in English Letters, p. 87.

Milton is one of the world's great minds. It is elevating to have intercourse with him and to follow his thought. Even in his partisanship-if to such independent and positive convictions as his that term can be applied he is great. In carefulness and self-consistency he can give lessons to every living writer. He appears to best advantage when compared with other men of admitted power. Alongside of Homer he seems a kindred spirit. Bacon's interpretation of the ancient myths are puerile in comparison with his. His insight into the Sacred Scriptures often shames trained theologians. That his celebrated epic, the "Paradise Lost," is even now but poorly understood is evidence of his superiority. -HIMES, JOHN A., 1898, ed., Paradise Lost, Preface, p. iii.

Milton is the great idealist of our Anglo-Saxon race. In him there was no shadow of turning from the lines of thought and action marked out for him by his presiding genius. His lines may not be our lines; but if we cannot admire to the full his ideal steadfastness of purpose and his masterful accomplishment, it is because our own capacity for the comprehension and pursuit of the ideal is. in so far weak and vacillating. And it is this pure idealism of his that makes him by far the most important figure, from a moral point of view, among all AngloSaxons. TRENT, WILLIAM P., 1899, John Milton, A Short Study of His Life and Works, p. 53.

His fame is now old-established and settled, so there is no place left for the eloquence of the memorialist, or the studied praises of the pleader. I have tried to understand Milton; and have already praised him as well as I know how, with no stinted admiration, I trust, and certainly with no merely superstitious reverance. RALEIGH, WALTER, 1900, Milton, p. 278.

PERSONAL

He had without doubt great infirmities, which, by providential mercy, were reasonably restrained from growing into vices, at least into any that were habitual. He had ambition enough to keep him from being satisfied with his own condition, and to raise his spirit to great designs of raising himself; but not to transport him to endeavour it, by any crooked and indirect means. He was never suspected to flatter the greatest men, or in the least degree to dissemble his own opinions or thoughts, how ingrateful soever it often proved; and even an affected defect in, and contempt of those two useful qualities cost him dear afterwards. He indulged his palate very much, and took even some delight in eating and drinking well, but without any approach to luxury; and, in truth, rather discoursed like an epicure, than was one. He had

a fancy, sharp and luxuriant, but so carefully cultivated and strictly guarded, that he never was heard to speak a loose or profane word, which he imputed to the chastity of the persons where his conversation usually was, where that rank sort of wit was religiously detested; and a little discountenance would quickly root those unsavoury weeds out all discourses where persons of honour are present. He was in his nature inclined to pride and passion, and to a humour between wrangling and disputing very troublesome, which good company in a short time so much reformed and mastered, that no man was more affable and courteous to all kind of persons, and they who knew the great infirmity of his whole family, which abounded in passion, used to say, he had much extinguished the unruliness of that fire. That which supported and rendered him generally accept

able was his generosity (for he had too much a contempt of money), and the opinion men had of the goodness and justice of his nature, which was transcendent in him, in a wonderful tenderness, and delight in obliging. His integrity was ever without blemish, and believed to be above temptation. He was firm and unshaken in his friendships, and, though he had great candour towards others in the differences of religion, he was zealously and deliberately fixed in the principles, both of the doctrine and discipline of the church. CLARENDON, LORD (EDWARD HYDE), 1674? Life.

His chief failing seems to have been too entire devotion to a prince who did not deserve his generous attachment. Yet could he never subdue his mind to the pliant principles or supple manners of a court; and as he expressed his sentiments. without regard to rank, he incurred the imputation of that haughty and uncomplying demeanour, which is so often united with the possession of power. The pride of office, however, seems little consistent with the soundness of his judgment; and, in that eventful age, he could not look around him without seeing examples of the instability of greatness, which would chastise the most flattering suggestions of human presumption. -MACDIARMID, JOHN, 1807, Lives of British Statesmen, vol. II.

It is certain that he fell a victim to the hostility of party. The charges against him were not supported by any lawful proof, and most, if not all, were satisfactorily refuted in his answer. Yet he must not be considered an immaculate character. character. His dread of republicanism taught him to advocate every claim of the prerogative, however unreasonable, and his zeal for orthodoxy led him to persecute

all who dissented from the establishment. He was haughty and overbearing; his writings betray in many instances his contempt for veracity: and his desire of amassing wealth provoked Evelyn to remark of him, that "the lord chancellor never did, nor would do, any thing but for money." He bore with impatience the tedium of exile; but his frequent solicitations for permission to return were treated with neglect by Charles, who felt no inclination to engage in a new contest for the sake of a man, whom he had long before ceased to esteem.-LINGARD, JOHN, 1819-30, A History of England, third ed., vol. XII.

To the general baseness and profligacy of the times, Clarendon is principally indebted for his high reputation. He was,

in every respect, a man unfit for his age, at once too good for it and too bad for it. He seemed to be one of the statesmen of Elizabeth, transplanted at once to a state of society widely different from that in which the abilities of such statesmen had been serviceable.-MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON, 1827, Hallam's Constitutional History, Critical and Miscellaneous Essays.

He had a competent estate, and was not obliged to regard his profession solely as a means of immediate profit. It is probable that he then entertained hopes of future political or literary distinction; for, amidst his application to law, he was careful not to neglect such means as might lead to advancement in a different career. Every day he devoted some hours to general literature; and he cultivated the society of many distinguished and valuable friends. With members of his own profession he lived little: but he had been careful to form such connections as were alike honourable and advantageous; and, ere he had attained the age of twentyseven, could enumerate among his intimate associates many of the most eminent persons in the kingdom-persons distinguished not merely by rank and power, but by their characters, abilities, and acquirements. Among his early literary friends were Ben Jonson-Selden, whose society he felt to have been inestimably valuable to him, and for whose talents and learning he retained a veneration unimpaired by subsequent difference of political opinion; Charles Cotton, a man of taste and letters, now remembered chiefly

as the literary associate of Isaac Walton: May, the able and candid historian of the parliament; Carew, whose graceful poetry still holds its place in public estimation; his more celebrated contemporary, Edmund Waller; the accomplished and versatile Sir Kenelm Digby; Hales, distinguished by his classical acquirements; Chillingworth, the profound theologian and acute controversialist; these were the literary men whose society was cultivated by Hyde; and to these may be added the names of Sheldon, Morley, and Earles, ecclesiastics, then enjoying a high and deserved reputation.-LISTER, T. H., 1838, Life and Administration of Edward, First Earl of Clarendon, vol. 1, p. 14.

Wherever Buckingham presented himself, wit, frolic, and buffoonery, were sure to have the ascendent. The more exalted the personage. the more serious the subject, and the more solemn the occasion, the more certain was it to provoke his merriment and ridicule. The King himself was as much exposed to his jests as was his humblest courtier; and the fortunes of his enemy, Clarendon, were apparently ruined by the systematic ribaldry, with which he persecuted the grave Lord Chancellor. Buckingham's mimicry was irresistible, and when he imitated the stately walk of that solemn personage,a pair of bellows hanging before him for the purse, and Colonel Titus preceding him with a fire-shovel on his shoulders, by way of mace-the King and his courtiers are described as convulsed with laughter. Buckingham's example was of course followed by others, and when the Chancellor passed by, the ladies of the Court used to touch the King:-"There," said they, "goes your schoolmaster. Clarendon himself alludes with bitterness to this unlicensed buffoonery. JESSE, JOHN HENEAGE, 1839-57, Memoirs of The Court of England during the Reign of the Stuarts, including The Protectorate, vol. III. p. 78.

66

Hyde is a firm-built, eupeptic Barrister, whose usual air is florid-hopeful still; a massive man; unknown depth of impetuosity kept down under mountain rockstrata of discretion, which yearly pile themselves higher and higher and are already very high for his years.-CARLYLE, THOMAS, 1844-49-98, Historical Sketches of Noble Persons and Events in the Reigns of James I. and Charles I., p. 329.

And yet Clarendon was not beaten. Amid exile, obloquy, bodily pain, old age, -with the edifice of his ambition lying shattered round him,--denied a hole in his dear England wherein to die, he held. the fortress of his soul invincible, and showed that a man true to himself can smile at fate. In a fine form, without vanity or arrogance, he exhibited in those years that humour which is the habitual mood of reason, the very bloom and aroma of practical philosophy -a humour which has little or no connection with fun, or wit, or audible laughter; but consists in an unsubduable capacity to make the best of things; a clearness and azure serenity of the soul's atmosphere which cannot be clouded over; a steadfast realisation, against optimists and pessimists alike, that life on earth is neither celestial nor diabolic, but, under all conditions possible for a wise man, is worth having. Ready to welcome any enlargement, any dawn of royal favour, he did not pine for the want of it, nor did he court the delusive but subtly seductive opiate of egotistic brooding over his virtues and his wrongs. addressed himself to wholesome labour, wrote his autobiography, studied the languages and literatures of Italy and France, carried on his commentary on the Psalms, and, looking up his controversial harpoon, attempted to fix it in the nose of leviathan Hobbes. He felt and wrote of his dear Falkland with a poetic tenderness which almost makes one love him. In his loyalty to the laws of the universe which had not been for him a garden of roses, and his filial reverence for a Divine Father who had, he believed, afflicted him, he presents a notable illustration of the tendency of sincere religion to promote mental health.-BAYNE, PETER, 1878, The Chief Actors in the Puritan Revolution, p. 499.

He

Of his habits and tastes during his early years, and of his pursuits during his exile, Clarendon gives full details in his autobiography, but says nothing of his private life during the time of his greatness. We learn from others that he was fond of state and magnificence, verging on ostentation. Nothing stirred the spleen of satirists more than the great house which he built for himself in St. James's, and his own opinion was that it contributed more than any alleged misdemeanours to "that gust of envy" which overthrew

him. Designed to cost £20,000, it finally cost £50,000, and involved him in endless difficulties. Evelyn describes it as "without hyperbole the best contrived, most useful, graceful, magnificent house in England." In the end it was sold to the Duke of Albemarle for £25,000, and pulled down to make room for new buildings.-FIRTH, C. H., 1891, Dictionary of National Biography, vol. XXVIII, p. 385.

The worst part of his whole character ---and the fault is illustrated in endless ways is his frequent insincerity. No doubt the events of his life afforded much excuse for it, but it shows itself continually, and almost always in the same form. He keeps continually saying, almost in so many words, but at all events indirectly, "I am a rough, honest, passionate, plainspoken man, proud of my sincerity, perhaps too secure in my good conscience. My frank harshness of manner was the cause of all my misfortunes." The slyness which lurks under this sort of roughness is the slyest thing in the whole world. -STEPHEN, SIR JAMES FITZJAMES, 1892, Horae Sabbaticae, First Series, p. 342.

HISTORY OF THE REBELLION
1702-4

:

I thinke I told you that this earl of Clarendon told me his father was writing the history of our late times. He beginns with king Charles 1st and brought it to the restauration of king Charles II, when, as he was writing, the penne fell out of his hand he took it up again to write: it fell out again. So then he percieved he was attacqued by death, scilicet, the dead palsey. They say 'tis very well donne: but his sonne will not print it.AUBREY, JOHN, 1669-96, Brief Lives, ed. Clark, vol. 1, p. 426.

I cannot but let you know the incredible satisfaction I have taken in reading my late Lord Clarendon's "History of the Rebellion," so well and so unexpectedly well written the preliminary so like that of the noble Polybius, leading us by the courts, avenues, and porches, into the fabric; the style masculine; the characters so just, and tempered without the least impediment of passion or tincture of revenge, yet with such natural and lively touches as show his lordship well knew not only the persons' outsides, but their very interiors. EVELYN, JOHN, 1702-3, Letter to Samuel Pepys, Jan. 20.