THE AGE OF MILTON
TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS
_The thick line indicates approximately the period of active literary
production._
1620 1630 1640 1650 1660 1670 1680
| | ║[116] | | | ║ | |
Cowley |........|.║==============================║ | |
(1618–67) | | | | | | |
| ║ | ║ | | | | |
Herbert |.║=========║ | | | | |
(1593–1633) | | | | | | |
| | | ║[117]║ | | ║ |
Herrick |........|........|..║=====║........|........|.║ |
(1591–1674) | | | | | | |
| ║ | [118] | | ║[119] | ║ |
Milton |......║=========================║=============║ |
(1608–74) | | | | ║ | | |
| | | ║[120] | ║ | | |
Browne |........|........|.║============║..|........|........|
(1605–82) | | | | | | |
| | | ║[121] | | ║ |
Clarendon |........|........|....║=======================║ |
(1609–74) | | | | | | |
| | |║ ║ [122] | ║ | |
Taylor |........|........|║=======║==============║ | |
(1613–67) | | | ║ | | |
| ║ | | | ║[123] | | ║ |
Hobbes |.....║======================║=====================║ |
(1588–1679) | | | | ║ | | |
| | | | | | |
THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND (1630–60)
The entire period covered by this chapter is dominated by the Civil
War. The earlier years are marked by the quarrels and alarms which led
up to actual hostilities in 1642; the middle of the period is occupied
with the spasmodic fighting that lasted till the execution of Charles
I in 1649; and the last portion covers the establishment of the
Commonwealth, the rise and disappearance of Cromwell (1654–58), the
confusion following upon his death, and the final restoration of the
monarchy in 1660.
LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE
=1. The Reaction.= During this period the decline from the high
Elizabethan standard is apparent in several ways. (_a_) The output,
especially of poetry, is much smaller, and the fashion is toward
shorter poems, especially the lyric of a peculiar type. (_b_) There is
a marked decay in the exalted poetical fervor of the previous age. In
the new poetry there is more of the intellectual play of fancy than of
passion and profundity. And, especially in prose, there is a matured
melancholy that one is apt to associate with advancing years. (_c_)
In prose there is a marked increase in activity, which is an almost
invariable accompaniment of a decline in poetry.
=2. The Pressure of Historical Events.= Viewed from a broad aspect, the
Civil War was only a domestic incident in English history; but the very
narrowness of the issue intensified the bitterness of the contest. It
divided the people into two factions, and among other things vitally
affected the literature of the time. Poetry was benumbed and lifeless,
and prose assumed a fierce and disputatious character.
=3. The Dominance of Milton.= The age is distinguished by the efforts
of Milton to keep literature alive. Upon his “Atlantean shoulders” he
bears its reputation. Other poets were scrappy and uneven, like the
“Metaphysicals”; or flat and uninspired, like Cowley; or shallow and
trivial, like Denham. In Milton alone, and even in the prose of Milton
to a considerable extent, we find satisfying quantity and quality.
=4. The Metaphysical Poets.= This term was first used by Johnson,
who applied it to Donne and Cowley. It was applied to a kind of poetry,
usually lyrical poetry, that often startled the reader by the sudden
leaps of its fancy into remoteness and (in exaggerated instances)
absurdity. The fashion was popular just before the Civil War broke
out, and it can be seen in the works of Herrick, Crashaw, Herbert,
Vaughan, and others. More detailed examination of this curious poetical
mode will be found in the notices of these poets.
=5. The Cavalier Poets.= This name is often loosely applied to the
Metaphysical poets; but the latter were usually of a religious
and mystical cast, whereas the Cavalier poets were military and
swashbuckling in disposition. They were well represented by Lovelace
and Suckling.
=6. The Expansion of Prose.= The development of prose is carried on
from the previous age. In spite of the hampering effects of the civil
strife, the prose output was copious and excellent in kind. There was
a notable advance in the sermon; pamphlets were abundant; and history,
politics, philosophy, and miscellaneous kinds were well represented. In
addition, there was a remarkable advance in prose style.
=7. The Collapse of the Drama.= Many things combined to oppress the
drama at this time. Chief among these were the civil disturbances
and the strong opposition of the Puritans. In temper the age was not
dramatic. It is curious to note that Milton’s greatest work, which in
the Elizabethan age would probably have been dramatic in form, took on
the shape of the epic. The actual dramatic work of the period was small
and unimportant; and the unequal struggle was terminated by the closing
of the theaters in 1642.
JOHN MILTON (1608–74)
=1. His Life.= Milton was born in Bread Street, Cheapside, London.
His father was a money-scrivener, an occupation that combined the
duties of the modern banker and lawyer. Milton was educated at St.
Paul’s School, London, and at Cambridge. At the university his stubborn
and irascible nature declared itself, and owing to insubordination
he was “sent down” for a term. On taking his final degree (1632) he
abandoned his intention of entering the Church and retired to Horton,
a small village in Buckinghamshire, some seventeen miles from London,
whither his father had withdrawn from business.
Milton’s next few years were those of a sequestered man of letters.
Poetry, mathematics, and music were his main studies. In 1638 he left
for a tour on the Continent, staying some months in Italy, where he
met many scholars and literary men. He was recalled to England by the
news that civil war was imminent. He settled down in London and set up
a small private school, and when hostilities broke out a year or two
later he took no part in the fighting. His pen, however, was active
in support of the Parliamentary cause, to which he was passionately
attached.
In 1643 he married a woman much younger than himself, and almost
immediately his wife left him, and did not return for two years. This
unfortunate circumstance led Milton to write two strong pamphlets
on divorce, which caused a great scandal at the time. Then in 1649,
after the execution of the King, he was appointed by the Commonwealth
Government Secretary for Foreign Tongues. In this capacity he became
secretary to the Council of State, and drafted Latin documents for
transmission to foreign Powers. In addition, he wrote numerous
pamphlets in support of the republican cause. By this time his eyesight
was failing; and when the Restoration came in 1660 to ruin his hopes,
it found him blind, poor, and alone. He escaped, however, from the
severe punishments that were inflicted upon many prominent Roundheads.
He was slightly punished by a nominal imprisonment; retired to an
obscure village in Buckinghamshire to write poetry; and died in London,
where he was buried.
=2. His Prose.= Most of Milton’s prose was written during the middle
period of his life (1640–60), when he was busy with public affairs.
The prose works have an unusual interest, because as a rule they have
a direct bearing on either his personal business or public interests.
In all they amount to twenty-five pamphlets, of which twenty-one are in
English and the remaining four in Latin.
He began pamphleteering quite early (1641), when he engaged in a
lively controversy with Bishop Hall over episcopacy. Then, while
teaching, he wrote a rather poor tract, _Of Education_ (1644). When
his wife deserted him he composed two pamphlets on divorce (1643–4),
which scandalized the public by the freedom of their opinions and the
slashing nature of their style. The critics of the pamphlets sought to
confound Milton on a technical matter by pointing out that he had not
licensed the books, as required by law. To this Milton retorted with
the greatest of all his tracts, _Areopagitica_ (1644), a noble and
impassioned plea for the liberty of the Press. Later works include a
defense (in Latin) of the execution of Charles I and of other actions
of the Commonwealth Government. During the last years of his life
Milton partly completed a _History of Britain_ and other scholastic
works.
When we consider the style of Milton’s prose we must keep in mind
how it was occasioned. His pamphlets were cast off at white heat and
precipitated into print while some topic was in urgent debate either
in Milton’s or the public mind. Hence in method they are tempestuous
and disordered; voluble, violent, and lax in style. They reveal intense
zeal and pugnacity, a mind at once spacious in ideals and intolerant
in application, a rich fancy, and a capacious scholarship. They lack
humor, proportion, and restraint; but in spite of these defects they
are among the greatest controversial compositions in the language. A
short extract will illustrate some of the Miltonic features:
I deny not but that it is of greatest concernment in the Church
and Commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books demean
themselves as well as men; and thereafter to confine, imprison,
and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors: for books are
not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life
in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they
are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and
extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I know they
are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous
dragons’ teeth; and being sown up and down, may chance to
spring up armed men. And yet on the other hand, unless wariness
be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book; who
kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God’s image; but he
who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image
of God as it were in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the
earth; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master
spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond
life.
_Areopagitica_
=3. His Poetry.= The great bulk of Milton’s poetry was written during
two periods separated from each other by twenty years: (_a_) the period
of his university career and his stay at Horton, from 1629 to 1640; and
(_b_) the last years of his life, from about 1660 to 1674. The years
between were filled by a few sonnets.
(_a_) While still an undergraduate Milton began to compose poems of
remarkable maturity and promise. They include the fine and stately
_Ode on the Morning of Christ’s Nativity_ (1629), and the poems _On
Shakespeare_ (1630) and _On Arriving at the Age of Twenty-three_
(1631). These poems show Milton’s command of impressive diction and
his high ideals, both literary and religious. While at Horton (1634)
he composed _L’Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_, two longish poems in
octosyllabic couplets dealing with the respective experiences of
the gay and thoughtful man. The pieces are decorative rather than
descriptive, artificial rather than natural, but they are full of
scholarly fancy and adroit poetical phrasing. _Comus_ (1637) belongs to
this period, and is a masque containing some stiff but beautiful blank
verse and some quite charming lyrical measures. _Lycidas_ (1637) is an
elegy on his friend Edward King, who was drowned on a voyage to Ireland.
_Lycidas_, which is to be reckoned as among the highest of Milton’s
achievements, is something quite new in English poetry. In form it
is pastoral, but this artificial medium serves only to show the
power of Milton’s grip, which can wring from intractable material
the very essence of poetry. The elegy has the color and music of the
best Spenserian verse; but it has a climbing majesty of epithet and
a dignified intensity of passion that Spenser does not possess. Its
meter is an irregular stanza-sequence and rhyme-sequence of a peculiar
haunting beauty.
For, so to interpose a little ease,
Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise;
Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
Wash far away,--where’er thy bones are hurled,
Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides
Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide,
Visitest the bottom of the monstrous world;
Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,
Sleep’st by the fable of Bellerus old,
Where the great Vision of the guarded mount
Looks towards Namancos and Bayona’s hold....
(_b_) This period (1660–74) gives us the poetry of the matured Milton.
The work of the middle years is composed of a few sonnets. These, with
some others written at different times, sufficiently show Milton’s
command of the Italian form, which he uses throughout. He gives it a
sweep and sonorous impressiveness that set him alone beside Wordsworth,
who in this respect is his poetical successor. The best of Milton’s
sonnets are _On his Blindness_ and _On the Late Massacre in Piedmont_.
The great work of this time is _Paradise Lost_. It was begun as
early as 1658, and issued in 1667. At first it was divided into ten
books or parts, but in the second edition it was redivided into twelve.
In form it follows the strict unity of the classical epic; in theme it
deals with the fall of man; but by means of introduced narratives it
covers the rebellion of Lucifer in heaven, the celestial warfare, and
the expulsion of the rebels. In conception the poem is spacious and
commanding; it is sumptuously adorned with all the detail that Milton’s
rich imagination, fed with classical and Biblical lore, can suggest;
the characters, especially that of Lucifer, are drawn on a gigantic
scale, and do not lack a certain tragic immensity; and the blank
verse in which the work is composed is new and wonderful. This type
of blank verse has founded a tradition in English; it has often been
imitated and modified, but never paralleled. It lacks the suppleness
of the Shakespearian measure; but it is instinct with beauty and
scholarly care. It is almost infinite in modulation; varied cunningly
in scansion, in pause, in cadence, and in sonorous dignity of music.
It has its lapses into wordiness and bombast, but the lapses are few
indeed.
In the following extract the construction of the blank verse should be
carefully observed. The variation of foot, pause, and melody is worthy
of the closest study.
No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all
The multitude of angels, with a shout
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung
With jubilee, and loud hosannas filled
The eternal regions. Lowly reverent
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground,
With solemn adoration, down they cast
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold--
Immortal amarant, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom; but soon for man’s offence
To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows,
And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life,
And where the river of bliss, through midst of Heaven,
Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream.
In 1671 Milton issued his last volume of poetry, which contained
_Paradise Regained_ and _Samson Agonistes_. The former poem, which
tells of Christ’s temptation and victory, is complementary to the
earlier epic, and Milton hoped that it would surpass its predecessor.
In this his hopes were dashed. It is briefer and poorer than _Paradise
Lost_; it lacks the exalted imagination, the adornment, and the ornate
rhythms of the earlier poem. There is little action, the characters are
uninteresting, and the work approaches _Paradise Lost_ only in a few
outstanding passages.
_Samson Agonistes_, which tells of Samson’s death while a prisoner
of the Philistines, has a curious interest, for in the Biblical hero
Milton saw more than one resemblance to himself. In form the work
has the strict unity of time, place, and action universal in Greek
tragedy. In style it is bleak and bare, in places harsh and forbidding;
but in several places Milton’s stubborn soul is wrung with pity and
exalted by the hope that looks beyond. The speech of Samson’s father
over his dead son is no inappropriate epitaph for Milton himself:
Come, come, no time for lamentation now,
Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself
Like Samson, and heroically hath finished
A life heroic, on his enemies
Fully revenged, hath left them years of mourning,
To himself and father’s house eternal fame;
And, which is best and happiest yet, all this
With God not parted from him, as was feared,
But favouring and assisting to the end.
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt,
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair,
And what may quiet us in a death so noble.
=4. Features of his Poetry.= (_a_) _The Puritan Strain._ All through
his life Milton’s religious fervor was unshaken. Even his enemies did
not deny his sincerity. It is seen even in one of his earliest sonnets:
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster’s eye.
It persists even to the end, when it runs deeper and darker. In
_Paradise Lost_, for example, his chief motive is to “justify the ways
of God to men.”
This religious tendency is apparent in (1) the choice of religious
subjects, especially in the later poems; (2) the sense of
responsibility and moral exaltation; (3) the fondness for preaching and
lecturing, which in _Paradise Lost_ is a positive weakness; (4)
the narrowness of outlook, strongly Puritanical, seen in his outbursts
against his opponents (as in _Lycidas_), in his belief regarding
the inferiority of women, and in his scorn for the “miscellaneous
rabble.”
(_b_) _The Classical Strain._ Curiously interwoven with the
severity of his religious nature is a strong bent for the classics,
which is pagan and sensuous. His learning was wide and matured;
he wrote Latin prose and verse as freely as he wrote English. His
classical bent is apparent in (1) his choice of classical and
semi-classical forms--the epic, the Greek tragedy, the pastoral, and
the sonnet; (2) the elaborate descriptions and enormous similes in
_Paradise Lost_; (3) the fondness for classical allusion, which
runs riot through all his poetry; (4) the dignity of his style, and its
precision and care. His very egoism takes a high classical turn. In his
blindness he compares himself with
Blind Thamyris and blind Mæonides,
And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old.
In his choice of diction we have the classical element abundantly
apparent; and, lastly, the same element appears in the typical Miltonic
grandeur and frigidity, the arrogant aloofness from men and mortals.
(_c_) _His Poetical Genius._ As a poet Milton is not a great innovator;
his function is rather to refine and make perfect. Every form he
touches acquires a finality of grace and dignity. The epic, the ode,
the classical drama, the sonnet, the masque, and the elegy--his
achievements in these have never been bettered and seldom approached.
As a metrist he stands almost alone. In all his meters we observe the
same ease, sureness, and success.
(_d_) _His Position in Literature._ In literature Milton occupies an
important central or transitional position. He came immediately after
the Elizabethan epoch, when the Elizabethan methods were crumbling
into chaos. His hand and temper were firm enough to gather into one
system the wavering tendencies of poetry, and to give them sureness,
accuracy, and variety. The next generation, lacking the inspiration
of the Elizabethans, found in him the necessary stimulus to order and
accuracy; and from him, to a great extent, sprang the new “classicism”
that was to be the rule for more than a century.
OTHER POETS
=1. Abraham Cowley (1618–67)= was born in London, the son of a wealthy
citizen. He was educated at Westminster School and at Cambridge, where
he distinguished himself as a classical scholar. In the Civil War he
warmly supported the King; followed the royal family into exile, where
he performed valuable services; returned to England at the Restoration;
and for the remainder of his life composed books in retirement.
Cowley, even more than Pope and Macaulay, is the great example of
the infant prodigy. When he was ten he wrote a long epical romance,
_Piramus and Thisbe_ (1628), and two years later produced an even
longer poem called _Constantia and Philetus_ (1630). All through his
life he was active in the production of many kinds of work--poems,
plays, essays, and histories. His best-known poem was _The Davideis_
(1637), a rather dreary epic on King David, in heroic couplets. Other
poems were _The Mistress_ (1647), a collection of love-poems, and the
_Pindarique Odes_, which are a curious hybrid between the early freedom
of the Elizabethans and the classicism of the later generation. His
prose works included his _Essays_ and _Discourse concerning Oliver
Cromwell_ (1661).
Both in prose and poetry Cowley was a man of various methods, showing
the wavering moods of the transitional poet. His heroic couplets and
irregular odes foreshadow the vogue of the approaching “correctness”;
his essays, in their pleasant egoism and miscellaneous subject-matter,
suggest Addison; and his prose style, plain and not inelegant, draws
near to the mode of Dryden. His variety pleased many tastes; hence the
popularity that was showered upon him during his day. But he excelled
in no particular method; and hence the partial oblivion that has
followed.
=2. The Metaphysical Poets.= The works of this group of poets have
several features in common: (i) the poetry is to a great extent
lyrical; (ii) in subject it is chiefly religious or amatory; (iii)
there is much metrical facility, even in complicated lyrical stanzas;
(iv) the poetic style is sometimes almost startling in its sudden
beauty of phrase and melody of diction, but there are unexpected turns
of language and figures of speech (hence the name of the group).
(_a_) =Robert Herrick (1591–1674)= was born in London, and educated at
Westminster School and at Cambridge, where he lived for fourteen years.
He was appointed to a living in Devonshire, where he died.
His two volumes of poems are _Noble Numbers_ (1647) and _Hesperides_
(1648). Both are collections of short poems, sacred and profane. In
them he reveals lyrical power of a high order; fresh, passionate, and
felicitously exact, but at the same time meditative and observant.
Herrick was strongly influenced by Jonson and the classics; he
delighted in the good things of this world; but that did not prevent
his having a keen enjoyment of nature and a fresh outlook upon life.
Among the best known of his shorter pieces are _To Anthea_, _To Julia_,
and _Cherry Ripe_.
(_b_) =George Herbert (1593–1633)= was born at Montgomery Castle,
educated at Westminster School and at Trinity College, Cambridge, where
he was appointed Fellow and reader, took holy orders, and was given in
turn livings near Huntingdon and at Bemerton, near Salisbury.
None of his poems was published during his lifetime. On his death-bed
he gave to a friend the manuscript of _The Temple_, a collection
of religious poems in various meters. The poems, of a high quality, are
inspired with a devout piety which is often fantastically expressed and
quaintly figured. His poetry is not so “metaphysical” as that of some
others of his group; but neither does it rise to the great heights that
they sometimes achieve.
(_c_) =Richard Crashaw (1613–50)=, the son of a clergyman, was born
in London, and educated at the Charterhouse and at Cambridge. During
the Civil War, in which he was a strong Royalist, he was compelled to
escape to France, where he became a Roman Catholic. At a later stage he
went to Rome and to Loretto. At the latter place he died and was buried.
Crashaw represents the best and the worst of the Metaphysical poets.
At his best he has an energy and triumphant rapture that, outside the
poems of Shelley, are rarely equaled in English; at his worst he is
shrill, frothy, and conceited. His style at its best is harmonious,
precise, and nobly elevated; at its worst it is disfigured by
obscurity, perversity, and unseemly images. His chief work is _Steps
to the Temple_ (1646).
We quote an extract to show the exalted mood to which his poetry can
ascend:
Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same;
And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame;
Live here, great heart;[124] and love, and die, and kill;
And bleed, and wound, and yield, and conquer still.
Let this immortal life where’er it comes
Walk in a crowd of loves and martyrdoms.
Let mystic deaths wait on’t; and wise souls be
The love-slain witnesses of this life of thee.
O sweet incendiary! show here thy art,
Upon this carcase of a hard cold heart....
Oh thou undaunted daughter of desires!
By all thy power of lights and fires;...
By all thy brim-filled bowls of fierce desire;
By thy last morning’s draught of liquid fire;
By the full kingdom of that final kiss
That seized thy parting soul, and sealed thee his;...
Leave nothing of myself in me.
_The Flaming Heart_
(_d_) =Henry Vaughan (1622–95)= was born in Wales, and was descended
from an ancient family. He went to London to study law, then turned to
medicine, and practiced at Brecon. His books include _Poems_ (1646),
_Olor Iscanus_ (1647), _Silex Scintillans_ (1650), and _Thalia
Rediviva_ (1678).
Vaughan’s love-poems, though they are often prettily and sometimes
beautifully phrased, are inferior to his religious pieces, especially
those in _Silex Scintillans_. His religious fervor is nobly
imaginative, and strikes out lines and ideas of astonishing strength
and beauty. His regard for nature, moreover, has a closeness and
penetration that sometimes (for example, in _The Retreat_)
suggests Wordsworth.
(_e_) =Thomas Carew (1595–1645)= was born in Kent, educated at Oxford,
and studied law in the Middle Temple. He attained to some success as
a courtier, but later died in obscurity. The date of his death is
uncertain, but it was probably 1645.
His _Poems_ (1640) show his undoubted lyrical ability. The pieces
are influenced by Donne and Jonson, but they have a character of their
own. The fancy is warmly colored, though it is marred by license and
bad taste. We quote a lyric which can be taken as representative of
the best of its kind. Its fancy is too rich and beautiful to be called
fantastic, and its golden felicity of diction is rarely equaled.
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose,
For in your beauty’s orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day,
For, in pure love, heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past,
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more if east or west
The phœnix builds her spicy nest,
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
=3.= The =Cavalier poets= are lyrical poets, and deal chiefly with love
and war.
(_a_) =Richard Lovelace (1618–58)= was born at Woolwich, was
educated at the Charterhouse and at Oxford, and became an officer in
the King’s household. When the Civil War broke out he was imprisoned
by the Roundheads; and, being liberated on parole, could do little
actively to assist Charles. At a later stage he saw some soldiering in
France, returned to England, and died in obscure circumstances.
His volume _Lucasta_ (1649) contains the best of his shorter pieces,
which had appeared at different times previously. He is essentially the
poet of attractive scraps and fancies, elegantly and wittily expressed.
Some of his lyrics, such as _To Althea, from Prison_ and _To Lucasta,
Going to the Wars_, have retained their popularity.
(_b_) =Sir John Suckling (1609–42)= was born in Middlesex, and at
the age of eighteen fell heir to a large fortune. He was educated at
Oxford, traveled on the Continent, served as a volunteer under Gustavus
Adolphus, and became a favorite of Charles I. He was implicated
in Royalist plots, and escaped abroad (1640), where he died under
conditions that are somewhat mysterious.
To some extent (for he seems to have lacked physical courage) Suckling
was the cavalier of the romances and the Restoration plays--gay,
generous, and witty. His poems largely reflect these characteristics.
As a poet he has great ability, but he is usually the elegant amateur,
disdaining serious and sustained labor. Some of his poems, such as the
_Ballad upon a Wedding_ (see p. 186), and “Why so pale and wan,
fond lover?” show the tricksy elegance that is his chief attraction.
DRAMA
=1. Philip Massinger (1583–1640)= was born at Salisbury, educated
at Oxford, and became a literary man in London, writing plays for the
King’s Men, a company of actors. If we may judge from his begging
letters that survive, he found in dramatic work little financial
encouragement. He died and was buried in London.
Massinger did much hack-work, and was fond of working out topical and
moral themes; so that a large amount of his work is of little permanent
importance. The best of his many plays are _A New Way to Pay Old
Debts_ (1625) and _The City Madam_ (1632), two quite fine comedies;
and _The Duke of Milan_ (1618) and _The Unnatural Combat_ (1619),
quite respectable tragedies. The level of Massinger’s workmanship is
laudably high; he is remarkably uniform in quality; and in a few cases
(as in that of Sir Giles Overreach in _A New Way to Pay Old Debts_) he
has created characters of real distinction. He followed the fashion of
the time in collaborating with other dramatists. _The Virgin Martyr_,
produced jointly with Dekker, is perhaps the most important of this
class of play.
=2. John Ford (1586–1640)= was born in Devonshire, educated at Oxford,
and studied, though he seems never to have practiced, law. He became an
active producer of plays, chiefly tragedies, both on his own account
and in collaboration with other playwrights.
In his nature Ford had a morbid twist which gave him a strange liking
for the horrible and the unnatural. His plays are unequal in quality;
but the most powerful of them are prevented from being revolting by
their real tragic force and their high literary aims. In _The Broken
Heart_ (acted in 1629) he harrows the reader’s feelings almost beyond
endurance; his _Perkin Warbeck_ (1634), a historical tragedy, is
reckoned to be the best historical drama outside of Shakespeare; and
in _The Witch of Edmonton_ (about 1633) he collaborated with Dekker
and Rowley to produce a powerful domestic drama. Others of the sixteen
plays attributed to him are _The Lover’s Melancholy_ (1629), _Love’s
Sacrifice_ (1633), and _The Fancies Chaste and Noble_ (1638).
SIR THOMAS BROWNE (1605–82)
Browne may be taken as representative of the best prose-writers of the
period.
=1. His Life.= He was born in London, educated at Winchester and
Oxford, and studied medicine. For a time he practiced in Oxfordshire;
then he traveled abroad, receiving his degree of M.D. at Leyden.
Returning to London (1634), he soon removed to Norwich, where for the
remainder of his life he successfully practiced as a doctor.
=2. His Works.= Almost alone among his contemporaries, Browne seems to
have been unaffected by the commotions of the time. His prose works,
produced during some of the hottest years of civil contention, are
tranquilly oblivious of unrest. His books are only five in number, are
individually small in size, and are of great and almost uniform merit.
_Religio Medici_ (1642), his confession of faith, is a curious mixture
of credulity and skepticism; _Pseudodoxia Epidemica_, or _Vulgar
Errors_ (1646), shared the same mental inconsistency, resembles the
work of Burton in its out-of-the-way learning; _Hydriotaphia or Erne
Buriall_ (1658), commonly considered to be his masterpiece, contains
reflections on human mortality induced by the discovery of some ancient
funeral urns; _The Garden of Cyrus_ (1658) is a treatise on the
quincunx. The last work, _Christian Morals_, was published after his
death.
=3. His Style.= As a philosopher Browne is either obscure and
confusing, as in _Religio Medici_, or unoriginal and obvious, as in
_Hydriotaphia_. His learning, though it is wide and accurate, is too
far-fetched and strange to be of much practical use. But as a literary
stylist he is very valuable indeed. He shows the ornate style of
the time in its richest bloom. His diction is strongly Latinized,
sometimes to the limit of obscurity; and he has the scholastic habit
of introducing Latin tags and references. In this he resembles Burton;
but in other respects he is far beyond the author of _The Anatomy of
Melancholy_. His sentences are carefully wrought and artistically
combined into paragraphs; and, most important from the purely literary
point of view, the diction has a richness of effect unknown among other
English prose-writers. The rhythm is harmonious, and finishes with
carefully attuned cadences. The prose is sometimes obscure, rarely
vivacious, and hardly ever diverting; but the solemnity and beauty
of it have given it an enduring fascination. A brief extract will
illustrate some of its qualities:
Pious spirits who passed their days in raptures of futurity,
made little more of this world, than the world that was before
it, while they lay obscure in the chaos of preordination, and
night of their fore-beings. And if any have been so happy
as truly to understand Christian annihilation, ecstasies,
exolution, liquefaction, transformation, the kiss of the spouse,
gustation of God, and ingression into the divine shadow, they
have already had an handsome anticipation of heaven; the glory
of the world is surely over, and the earth in ashes unto them.
To subsist in lasting monuments, to live in their productions,
to exist in their names and predicament of chimeras, was large
satisfaction unto old expectations, and made one part of their
Elysiums. But all this is nothing in the metaphysics of true
belief. To live, indeed, is to be again ourselves, which being
not only an hope, but an evidence in noble believers, ’tis all
one to lie in St Innocent’s churchyard, as in the sands of
Egypt. Ready to be anything, in the ecstasy of being ever, and
as content with six foot as the _moles_ of Adrianus.
_Hydriotaphia_
OTHER PROSE-WRITERS
=1. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon (1609–74)=, was born in Wiltshire,
educated at Oxford, and studied law. A man of excellent address, he
was a successful lawyer, and became a member of the House of Commons.
At first he was attached to the Parliamentary side, but he separated
from the party on account of their attitude to the Church. He changed
over to the Royalists, and thenceforward became one of the foremost
advocates of the King’s cause. After the downfall of the Royalists he
accompanied the young Charles into exile; and at the Restoration he
was appointed Lord Chancellor and raised to the peerage as Earl of
Clarendon. He was too severe for the frivolous Restoration times, was
exiled (1667), and died in France. His body was buried in Westminster
Abbey.
His great work, _The History of the Great Rebellion_, was begun as
early as 1646 and finished during the years of his last exile. It was
not published till 1704. To some extent the work is based on his own
knowledge of the struggle; it lacks proportion and complete accuracy;
but the narrative is strong and attractive, and it contains masterly
character-sketches of some of the chief figures in the struggle. It
is composed in long, lumbering sentences, loaded with parentheses
and digressions, but the style is readable. It is the most important
English work of a historical nature up to the date of its issue.
=2. Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679)= was born at Malmesbury, and was the
son of a clergyman. He finished his education at Oxford, and became
tutor to the future Earl of Devonshire. He supported the Royalist
cause, was exiled by the Roundheads, and at the Restoration was awarded
a pension. The remainder of his long life was devoted to literature.
Hobbes took an active part in the intellectual broils of the period,
and much of his work is violently contentious. His chief book was
_The Leviathan_ (1651), which expounded his political theories.
The ardor of his opinions embroiled him with both of the chief
political parties, but the abuse that it occasioned gave the book an
immense interest. The style in which it is written is hard, clear, and
accurate--almost the ideal medium for sustained exposition and argument.
=3. Jeremy Taylor (1613–67)= is the most prominent literary divine
of the period. The son of a barber, he was born and educated at
Cambridge, though latterly he removed to Oxford. Taking holy orders,
he distinguished himself as an ardent expounder of the Royalist cause,
and for a time he was imprisoned by the Parliamentary party. At the
Restoration he was rewarded by being appointed to the Irish bishoprics
of Down and Dromore. He died in Ireland.
A learned, voluble, and impressive preacher, Taylor carried the same
qualities into his prose works, which consisted of tracts, sermons,
and theological books. His most popular works, in addition to his
collections of sermons, were _The Liberty of Prophesying_ (1647),
_Holy Living_ (1650), and _Holy Dying_ (1651). In his writings he is
fond of quotations and allusions and of florid, rhetorical figures,
such as simile, exclamation, and apostrophe; and his language, built
into long, stately, but comprehensible sentences, is abundant,
melodious, and pleasing.
=4. Thomas Fuller (1608–61)= was born in Northamptonshire, his
father being a clergyman. He was educated at Cambridge, and took holy
orders. He received various appointments, and by his witty sermons
attracted the notice of Charles I. During the Civil War he was a
chaplain to the Royalist forces; but when his side was defeated he made
his peace with the Parliamentary party and was permitted to carry on
his literary labors. He died the year after the Restoration.
Fuller had an original and penetrating mind, a wit apt for caustic
comment, and an industry that remained unimpaired till the end of his
life. His literary works are therefore of great interest and value.
His serious historical books include _The History of the Holy
War_ (1639), dealing with the Crusades, and _The Church-History
of Britain_ (1655). Among his pamphlets are _Good Thoughts in
Bad Times_ (1645), and _An Alarum to the Counties of England and
Wales_ (1660). The work that has given him his reputation is his
_Worthies of England_, published by his son in 1662. It shows his
peculiar jocosity at its best.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS
=1. Poetry.= (_a_) _The Lyric._ The period is rich in lyrical poetry
of a peculiar kind. The theme is chiefly love or religion. Most of the
love-poems are dedicated to ladies of the usual literary convention,
such as Althea, Celia, and Phyllis, who both in name and nature
resemble the stock characters of the artificial pastoral poetry. The
language addressed to such creations cannot be that of deep and genuine
passion; it is rather that of polite compliment, verbal quibble, or
courtly jest. This type of lyric is a charming literary exercise,
but hardly the inspired searching of the lover’s heart. We have
already noticed the poems of Herrick, Lovelace, and Carew as being
representative of this class. To these names may be added those of
=George Wither (1588–1667)=, who writes freshly and sweetly, =Andrew
Marvell (1621–78)=, who sometimes reveals real passion, and the
numerous miscellaneous songwriters, mostly anonymous, who in inspired
moments could produce such charming lyrics as “Phillada flouts me.”
The religious lyric, on the other hand, as we can see in the case
of Crashaw and Vaughan, is frequently passionately inspired; but
the passions are vaguely expressed; and we have commented upon the
incongruity that frequently disfigures the style. In the case of Milton
his lyrics are superbly phrased, but they too lack spontaneity. His
sonnets, among the noblest of their class, have much more depth of
feeling.
(_b_) _The Epic._ The true epic treats of a sublime subject in the
grand manner. In some respects _Beowulf_ is an epic, but strictly
speaking the epic does not appear till this age. Cowley’s _Davideis_
(1637) and Davenant’s _Gondibert_ (1651) aspire to be great epics; but
though they subscribe to the rules governing the outward form of the
species they lack the inner spirit and they are failures. Milton’s
_Paradise Lost_ (1658) has the heat and inspiration, but the Puritan
bias in his nature led him to the rather unsuitable subject of the fall
of man. It is unsuitable because it is weak in heroic action. Much more
appropriate would have been the story of King Arthur, which for a long
time he thought of using. Otherwise Milton’s treatment of the subject
is strictly orthodox. Nominally at least he adheres to the epical unity
of action; he draws his characters with a wide sweep; and the style is
a triumph of English epical style. His _Paradise Regained_ (1671) is
worked out on the same lines, but it is shorter and weaker than the
earlier epic.
(_c_) _The Ode._ In Spenser’s _Epithalamion_ and _Prothalamion_ we
have seen the irregular ode attain to a high degree of perfection. In
this age we observe the appearance of the Pindaric ode, which was to
be so popular in the succeeding generations. Though it appears to be
irregular, the Pindaric ode is really bound by stringent rules; its
language is ornately artificial; and its diction mannered and unreal.
Therefore it is suited to the needs of a transitional period that
desires artificiality with a show of freedom. Cowley’s _Pindarique
Odes_ (1656) are the first of their class in English.
(_d_) _Descriptive and Narrative Poetry._ In this wide class we may
include Milton’s _L’Allegro_ and _Il Penseroso_, Herrick’s pastoral
poems, and Crashaw’s religious-descriptive pieces. To these may
be added the _Cooper Hill_ (1641) of =Sir John Denham (1615–69)=,
a descriptive poem much praised in its day, and the romantic poem
_Pharonnida_ (1659) by =William Chamberlayne (1619–89)=. In all these
poems we may observe the growing tendency to avoid contact with actual
wild nature, and to seek rather the conventional and bookish landscapes
familiar in the more artificial classical authors. Already the new
classicism is declaring itself.
=2. Drama.= Earlier in this chapter we have noticed the decline and
temporary collapse of the drama (1642). The plays of Massinger sustain
the expiring spirit of the great Elizabethans; those of Ford follow
the tragical school of Webster and Tourneur. Other playwrights are
=James Shirley (1596–1666)=, who wrote some pleasing comedies of London
life, such as _The Lady of Pleasure_ (1637), and the feebler writers
=Suckling= and =Davenant=.
=3. Prose.= While the period is almost devoid of narrative prose of the
lighter sort, it is quite rich in prose of other kinds.
(_a_) _The Sermon._ This period has been called “the Golden Age of the
English pulpit.” No doubt the violent religious strife of the time
has much to do with the great flow of sermon writing, which is marked
with eloquence, learning, and strong argument. In addition to Jeremy
Taylor and Fuller, already mentioned, we may notice =Robert South
(1634–1716)=, who writes rather more briefly and simply than the rest,
=Isaac Barrow (1630–77)=, learned and copious, and =Richard Baxter
(1615–91)=, a Nonconformist, whose _Saints’ Everlasting Rest_ (1649)
has survived all his preachings.
(_b_) _Philosophical Works._ On the moral side there are the works
of Sir Thomas Browne; on the political those of Hobbes; and on the
religious side the books of =John Hales (1584–1656)=. Works of this
type show a growing knowledge and advancing scholarship, joined
sometimes to quaint conceits and artless credulity.
(_c_) _Historical Works._ In this class Clarendon’s and Fuller’s works
stand pre-eminent. The development of the history will be noticed in a
future chapter (see p. 340).
(_d_) _Miscellaneous Prose._ In this large and varied group may be
included the pamphlets of Milton, Hobbes, Fuller, and many more;
the attractive books of =Isaac Walton (1593–1683)=, whose _Compleat
Angler_ (1653) is the classic of its kind; the interesting _Resolves_,
short miscellaneous essays, of =Owen Felltham (1602–68)=; and the
_Letters_ (1645), an early type of essay-journalism, of =James Howell
(1594–1666)=.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY STYLE
=1. Poetry.= In surveying the poetical style of the age one is aware of
conflicting tendencies, a state of affairs quite in keeping with the
transitional nature of the time.
(_a_) The _lyrical style_ shows a decline from the natural splendors
of the Elizabethan age; but it shows an increase in care, in polish,
and in actual metrical dexterity. Moreover, in the best examples of the
time we find a melodious resonance and beauty that is quite peculiar
to the period. The lyric of Carew quoted on p. 172 illustrates this
felicity both of sound and expression. The startling “metaphysical”
quality of the works of many of the poets has been commented upon. It
is revealed at its worst in the works of =John Cleveland (1613–58)=,
whose more violent efforts came to be known as “_Clevelandisms_.” The
following is a mild example of his manner:
The flowers, called out of their beds,
Start and raise up their drowsy heads;
And he that for their colour seeks,
Will find it mantling in her cheeks,
Where roses mix; no civil war
Between her York and Lancaster.
The marigold, whose courtier face
Echoes the sun, and doth unlace
Her at his rise, at his full stop
Packs and shuts up her gaudy shop,
Mistakes her cue, and doth display:
Thus Phillis antedates the day.
_On Phillis, walking before Sunrise_
(_b_) In _blank verse_ conflicting movements are also apparent. In
Milton the style reaches a magnificent climax. But in the drama,
especially in the drama of minor playwrights of the ability of Suckling
and Davenant, it becomes a huddle of verse and prose, so bad that one
hesitates to say where the verse ends and the prose begins. It is the
last stage of poetical decrepitude.
(_c_) The _heroic couplet_ begins to appear, ushering in its long
reign. We have it appearing as early as Spenser’s _Shepherd’s Calendar_
(1579) and Sandys’s _Ovid_ (1626); but the true stopped couplet, as
used by Dryden and developed by Pope, is usually set down to the credit
of Cowley’s _Davideis_ (1637), or Denham’s _Cooper’s Hill_ (1641),
or the shorter poems of =Edmund Waller (1606–87)=, who wrote stopped
couplets as early as 1623. The heroic couplet will receive further
notice in the next chapter.
TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS
+----+---------------------------------+-------------------+------------------------------------+
| | POETRY | DRAMA | PROSE |
|DATE+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
| | Lyric | Epic | Descriptive | Comedy | Tragedy | Historical |Religious|Miscellaneous|
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+----- ---+------------+---------+-------------+
| |Wither | | | | | | | |
| | | | | Massinger | | | |
| | | | | | | | | |
|1630|Milton[125]| | Cowley | |Ford | | | |
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
| | | | | | | | | |
| |Herbert | | Milton | | | | | |
| | |Cowley | |Suckling | | | | |
| |Suckling | | |Davenant | | | | |
|1640|Carew | | | | |Fuller | | |
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
| | | | Denham | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |Browne[126]| |
| |Crashaw | | | | | | |Milton |
| |Vaughan | | | | | |Fuller |Howell |
| | | | | | |Clarendon[127]| |Browne |
| |Herrick | | | | | |Baxter | |
| |Lovelace | | | | | | | |
|1650| |Davenant | | | | |Taylor[128]| |
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
| |Marvell | | | | | | |Hobbes |
| | | | | | | |Barrow |Walton |
| |Cowley | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | |
| | |Milton[129]|Chamberlayne| | | | | |
|1660| | | | | | | |Fuller |
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
| | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | | |
|1670| | | | |Milton[130]| | | |
+----+---------+---------+-------------+---------+---------+------------+---------+-------------+
=2. Prose.= In prose also we see the opposing tendencies. The principal
movement is toward ornate prose, in Browne, Jeremy Taylor, Clarendon,
and in the Scottish writer =William Drummond (1585–1649)=, whose
_Cypress Grove_ (1616) is in the fashionable funereal vein. In the
middle style we have the precision of Hobbes in _The Leviathan_. At the
other extreme from the ornate, the miscellaneous writers adopt great
simplicity. Of this class, which includes Howell and Fe11tham, the best
example is Isaac Walton, whose artless prose is shown in the following
specimen:
_Piscator._ O sir, doubt not but that angling is an art.
Is it not an art to deceive a trout with an artificial fly? a
trout that is more sharp-sighted than any hawk you have named,
and more watchful and timorous than your high-mettled merlin
is bold! and yet I doubt not to catch a brace or two to-morrow
for a friend’s breakfast. Doubt not, therefore, sir, but that
angling is an art, and an art worth your learning; the question
is rather, whether you be capable of learning it? for angling
is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so--I mean with
inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse
and practice; but he that hopes to be a good angler must not
only bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must
bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and
propensity to the art itself; but having once got and practised
it, then doubt not but angling will prove to be so pleasant that
it will prove to be like virtue, a reward to itself.
_The Compleat Angler_
EXERCISES
1. The following extracts illustrate the good and bad features of the
“metaphysical” style in poetry. Comment upon each feature as it appears
to you, and estimate the value of the style as a literary medium.
(1) Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two,
Thy soul, the fix’d foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th’ other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th’ other foot obliquely run,
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
DONNE, _A Valediction forbidding Mourning_
(2) But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near,
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
MARVELL, _To his Coy Mistress_
(3) When, like committed linnets, I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud, how good
He is, how great should be,
Enlarged winds that curl the flood
Know no such liberty.
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.
LOVELACE, _To Althea, from Prison_
(4) Each little pimple had a tear in it,
To wail the fault its rising did commit.
DRYDEN, _Upon the Death of the Lord Hastings_
(5) The plants, whose luxury was lopped,
Or age with crutches underpropped,
Whose wooden carcases are grown
To be but coffins of their own,
Revive, and at her general dole,
Each receives his ancient soul.
CLEVELAND
(6) Her finger was so small, the ring,
Would not stay on, which they did bring,
It was too wide a peck:
And to say the truth (for out it must)
It looked like the great collar (just)
About our young colt’s neck.
Her feet beneath her petticoat,
Like little mice, stole in and out,
As if they feared the light:
But O, she dances such a way!
No sun upon an Easter-day
Is half so fine a sight.
Her cheeks so rare a white was on,
No daisy makes comparison,
(Who sees them is undone),
For streaks of red were mingled there,
Such as are on a Catherine pear
The side that’s next the sun.
SUCKLING, _A Ballad upon a Wedding_
2. Compare the following examples of Milton’s earlier and later blank
verse respectively. Observe the metrical dexterity, the cadence, and
the vowel-music.
(1) They left me then, when the gray-hooded even,
Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain.
But where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labour of my thoughts; ’tis likeliest
They had engaged their wandering steps too far;
And envious darkness, ere they could return,
Had stole them from me: else, O thievish night,
Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end,
In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars,
That nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps
With everlasting oil, to give due light
To the misled and lonely traveller?
_Comus_
(2) Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid,
Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair,
Presented with a universal blank
Of nature’s works to me expung’d and ras’d,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
_Paradise Lost_
3. The following paragraph is fairly typical both of the prose of
Jeremy Taylor and of that of the period in general. Point out the good
and bad qualities of the style, and estimate its value.
Anger is a perfect alienation of the mind from prayer, and
therefore is contrary to that attention which presents our
prayers in a right line to God. For so have I seen a lark rising
from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he
rises, and hopes to get to heaven, and climb above the clouds;
but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an
eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant,
descending more at every breath of the tempest than it could
recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings,
till the little creature was forced to sit down and pant, and
stay till the storm was over; and then it made a prosperous
flight, and did rise and sing, as if it had learned music and
motion from an angel, as he passed sometimes through the air,
about his ministries here below. So is the prayer of a good
man: when his affairs have required business, and his business
was matter of discipline, and his discipline was to pass upon a
sinning person, or had a design of charity, his duty met with
the infirmities of a man, and anger was its instrument; and the
instrument became stronger than the prime agent, and raised a
tempest, and overruled the man; and then his prayer was broken,
and his thoughts were troubled, and his words went up towards a
cloud; and his thoughts pulled them back again, and made them
without intention; and the good man sighs for his infirmity, but
must be content to lose that prayer, and he must recover it when
his anger is removed, and his spirit is becalmed, made even as
the brow of Jesus, and smooth like the heart of God; and then it
ascends to heaven upon the wings of the holy dove, and dwells
with God, till it returns, like the useful bee, laden with a
blessing and the dew of heaven.
JEREMY TAYLOR, _On Prayer_
4. Explain the references in the following passages. What parts of
Milton’s character and literary works are emphasized?
(1) Nor second he, that rode sublime
Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy,
The secret of th’ abyss to spy.
He passed the flaming bounds of place and time--
The living throne, the sapphire-blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but, blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.
GRAY, _The Progress of Poesy_
(2) Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour.[131]
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters; altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart;
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life’s common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
WORDSWORTH, _To Milton_
(3) He left the upland lawns and serene air
Wherefrom his soul her noble nurture drew,
And reared his helm among the unquiet crew
Battling beneath; the morning radiance rare
Of his young brow amid the tumult there
Grew grim with sulphurous heat and sanguine dew:
Yet through all soilure they who marked him knew
The sign of his life’s dayspring, calm and fair.
But when peace came, peace fouler far than war,
And mirth more dissonant than battle’s tone,
He, with a scornful sigh of that clear soul,
Back to his mountain clomb, now bleak and frore,
And with the awful night he dwelt alone,
In darkness, listening to the thunder’s roll.
ERNEST MYERS, _Milton_
5. “Milton neither belonged to nor founded a school.” Expand this
statement, and try to account for the truth of it.
6. Point out the effects, good and bad, of the civil and religious
strife upon the literature of the time.
7. “Both in prose and poetry the period is a turning-point in the
history of English literature.” Discuss this statement.
8. Write a brief essay on “The Poetry of Puritanism.”