Although I fear, lest, if in defending the people of England,

I should be as copious in words, and empty of matter, as most

men think Salmasius has been in his defence of the king, I

might seem to deserve justly to be accounted a verbose and

silly defender; yet since no man thinks himself obliged to

make so much haste, though in the handling but of any ordinary

subject, as not to premise some introduction at least,

according as the weight of the subject requires; if I take the

same course in handling almost the greatest subject that ever

was (without being too tedious in it) I am in hopes of

attaining two things, which indeed I earnestly desire: the

one, not to be at all wanting, as far as in me lies, to this

most noble cause and most worthy to be recorded to all future

ages: the other, that I may appear to have myself avoided that

frivolousness of matter, and redundancy of words, which I

blame in my antagonist. For I am about to discourse of matters

neither inconsiderable nor common, but how a most potent king,

after he had trampled upon the laws of the nation, and given a

shock to its religion, and begun to rule at his own will and

pleasure, was at last subdued in the field by his own

subjects, who had undergone a long slavery under him; how

afterwards he was cast into prison, and when he gave no

ground, either by words or actions, to hope better things of

him, was finally by the supreme council of the kingdom

condemned to die, and beheaded before the very gates of the

royal palace. I shall likewise relate (which will much conduce

to the easing men's minds of a great superstition) by what

right, especially according to our law, this judgment was

given, and all these matters transacted; and shall easily

defend my valiant and worthy countrymen (who have extremely

well deserved of all subjects and nations in the world) from

the most wicked calumnies, both of domestic and foreign

railers, and especially from the reproaches of this most vain

and empty sophist, who sets up for a captain and ringleader to

all the rest. For what king's majesty sitting upon an exalted

throne, ever shone so brightly, as that of the people of

England then did, when, shaking off that old superstition,

which had prevailed a long time, they gave judgment upon the

king himself, or rather upon an enemy who had been their king,

caught as it were in a net by his own laws, (who alone of all

mortals challenged to himself impunity by a divine right,) and

scrupled not to inflict the same punishment upon him, being

guilty, which he would have inflicted upon any other? But why

do I mention these things as performed by the people, which

almost open their voice themselves, and testify the presence

of God throughout? who, as often as it seems good to his

infinite wisdom, uses to throw down proud and unruly kings,

exalting themselves above the condition of human nature, and

utterly to extirpate them and all their family. By his

manifest impulse being set at work to recover our almost lost

liberty, following him as our guide, and adoring the impresses

of his divine power manifested upon all occasions, we went on

in no obscure, but an illustrious passage, pointed out and

made plain to us by God himself. Which things, if I should so

much as hope by any diligence or ability of mine, such as it

is, to discourse of as I ought to do, and to commit them so to

writing, as that perhaps all nations and all ages may read

them, it would be a very vain thing in me. For what style can

be august and magnificent enough, what man has ability

sufficient to undertake so great a task? Since we find by

experience, that in so many ages as are gone over the world,

there has been but here and there a man found, who has been

able worthily to recount the actions of great heroes, and

potent states; can any man have so good an opinion of his own

talents, as to think himself capable of reaching these

glorious and wonderful works of Almighty God, by any language,

by any style of his? Which enterprise, though some of the most

eminent persons in our commonwealth have prevailed upon me by

their authority to undertake, and would have it be my business

to vindicate with my pen against envy and calumny (which are

proof against arms) those glorious performances of theirs,

(whose opinion of me I take as a very great honour, that they

should pitch upon me before others to be serviceable in this

kind of those most valiant deliverers of my native country;

and true it is, that from my very youth, I have been bent

extremely upon such sort of studies, as inclined me, if not to

do great things myself, at least to celebrate those that did,)

yet as having no confidence in any such advantages, I have

recourse to the divine assistance; and invoke the great and

holy God, the giver of all good gifts, that I may as

substantially, and as truly, discourse and refute the

sauciness and lies of this foreign declaimer, as our noble

generals piously and successfully by force of arms broke the

king's pride, and his unruly domineering, and afterwards put

an end to both by inflicting a memorable punishment upon

himself, and as thoroughly as a single person did with ease

but of late confute and confound the king himself, rising as

it were from the grave, and recommending himself to the people

in a book published after his death, with new artifices and

allurements of words and expressions. Which antagonist of

mine, though he be a foreigner, and, though he deny it a

thousand times over, but a poor grammarian; yet not contented

with a salary due to him in that capacity, chose to turn a

pragmatical coxcomb, and not only to intrude in state-affairs,

but into the affairs of a foreign state: though he brings

along with him neither modesty, nor understanding, nor any

other qualification requisite in so great an arbitrator, but

sauciness, and a little grammar only. Indeed if he had

published here, and in English, the same things as he has now

written in Latin, such as it is, I think no man would have

thought it worth while to return an answer to them, but would

partly despise them as common, and exploded over and over

already, and partly abhor them as sordid and tyrannical

maxims, not to be endured even by the most abject of slaves:

nay, men that have sided with the king, would have had these

thoughts of his book. But since he has swoln it to a

considerable bulk, and dispersed it amongst foreigners, who

are altogether ignorant of our affairs and constitution, it is

fit that they who mistake them should be better informed; and

that he, who is so very forward to speak ill of others, should

be treated in his own kind. If it be asked, why we did not

then attack him sooner? why we suffered him to triumph so

long, and pride himself in our silence? For others I am not to

answer; for myself I can boldly say, that I had neither words

nor arguments long to seek for the defence of so good a cause,

if I had enjoyed such a measure of health, as would have

endured the fatigue of writing. And being but weak in body, I

am forced to write by piecemeal, and break off almost every

hour, though the subject be such as requires an unintermitted

study and intenseness of mind. But though this bodily

indisposition may be a hindrance to me in setting forth the

just praises of my most worthy countrymen, who have been the

saviours of their native country, and whose exploits, worthy

of immortality, are already famous all the world over; yet I

hope it will be no difficult matter for me to defend them from

the insolence of this silly little scholar, and from that

saucy tongue of his, at least. Nature and laws would be in an

ill case, if slavery should find what to say for itself, and

liberty be mute; and if tyrants should find men to plead for

them, and they that can master and vanquish tyrants, should

not be able to find advocates. And it were a deplorable thing

indeed, if the reason mankind is endued withal, and which is

the gift of God, should not furnish more arguments for men's

preservation, for their deliverance, and, as much as the

nature of the thing will bear, for making them equal to one

another, than for their oppression, and for their utter ruin

under the domineering power of one single person. Let me

therefore enter upon this noble cause with a cheerfulness

grounded upon this assurance, that my adversary's cause is

maintained by nothing but fraud, fallacy, ignorance, and

barbarity; whereas mine has light, truth, reason, the practice

and the learning of the best ages of the world, on its side.

_From the 'Second Defence of the People of England in Reply to an

Anonymous Libel, entitled "The Cry of the Royal Blood to Heaven against

the English Parricides"'_

A grateful recollection of the divine goodness is the first of

human obligations; and extraordinary favours demand more

solemn and devout acknowledgments: with such acknowledgments I

feel it my duty to begin this work. First, because I was born

at a time when the virtue of my fellow-citizens, far exceeding

that of their progenitors in greatness of soul and vigour of

enterprise, having invoked Heaven to witness the justice of

their cause, and been clearly governed by its directions, has

succeeded in delivering the commonwealth from the most

grievous tyranny, and religion from the most ignominious

degradation. And next, because when there suddenly arose many

who, as is usual with the vulgar, basely calumniated the most

illustrious achievements, and when one eminent above the rest,

inflated with literary pride, and the zealous applauses of his

partisans, had in a scandalous publication, which was

particularly levelled against me, nefariously undertaken to

plead the cause of despotism, I, who was neither deemed

unequal to so renowned an adversary, nor to so great a

subject, was particularly selected by the deliverers of our

country, and by the general suffrage of the public, openly to

vindicate the rights of the English nation, and consequently

of liberty itself. Lastly, because in a matter of so much

moment, and which excited such ardent expectations, I did not

disappoint the hopes nor the opinions of my fellow-citizens;

while men of learning and eminence abroad honoured me with

unmingled approbation; while I obtained such a victory over my

opponent that, notwithstanding his unparalleled assurance, he

was obliged to quit the field with his courage broken and his

reputation lost; and for the three years which he lived

afterwards, much as he menaced and furiously as he raved, he

gave me no further trouble, except that he procured the paltry

aid of some despicable hirelings, and suborned some of his

silly and extravagant admirers to support him under the weight

of the unexpected and recent disgrace which he had

experienced. This will immediately appear. Such are the signal

favours which I ascribe to the divine beneficence, and which I

thought it right devoutly to commemorate, not only that I

might discharge a debt of gratitude, but particularly because

they seem auspicious to the success of my present undertaking.

For who is there, who does not identify the honour of his

country with his own? And what can conduce more to the beauty

or glory of one's country than the recovery not only of its

civil but its religious liberty?

* * * * *

. . . I can easily repel any charge which may be adduced

against me, either of want of courage, or want of zeal. For

though I did not participate in the toils or dangers of the

war, yet I was at the same time engaged in a service not less

hazardous to myself and more beneficial to my fellow-citizens;

nor, in the adverse turns of our affairs, did I ever betray

any symptoms of pusillanimity and dejection: or show myself

more afraid than became me of malice or of death: For since

from my youth I was devoted to the pursuits of literature, and

my mind had always been stronger than my body, I did not court

the labours of a camp, in which any common person would have

been of more service than myself, but resorted to that

employment in which my exertions were likely to be of most

avail. Thus, with the better part of my frame I contributed as

much as possible to the good of my country, and to the success

of the glorious cause in which we were engaged; and I thought

that if God willed the success of such glorious achievements,

it was equally agreeable to his will that there should be

others by whom those achievements should be recorded with

dignity and elegance; and that the truth, which had been

defended by arms, should also be defended by reason; which is

the best and only legitimate means of defending it. Hence,

while I applaud those who were victorious in the field, I will

not complain of the province which was assigned me; but rather

congratulate myself upon it, and thank the Author of all good

for having placed me in a station, which may be an object of

envy to others rather than of regret to myself. I am far from

wishing to make any vain or arrogant comparisons, or to speak

ostentatiously of myself; but, in a cause so great and

glorious, and particularly on an occasion when I am called by

the general suffrage to defend the very defenders of that

cause, I can hardly refrain from assuming a more lofty and

swelling tone than the simplicity of an exordium may seem to

justify: and much as I may be surpassed in the powers of

eloquence and copiousness of diction by the illustrious

orators of antiquity, yet the subject of which I treat was

never surpassed, in any age, in dignity or in interest. It has

excited such general and such ardent expectation, that I

imagine myself, not in the forum or on the rostra, surrounded

only by the people of Athens or of Rome, but about to address

in this, as I did in my former Defence, the whole collective

body of people, cities, states, and councils of the wise and

eminent, through the wide expanse of anxious and listening

Europe. I seem to survey, as from a towering height, the far

extended tracts of sea and land, and innumerable crowds of

spectators, betraying in their looks the liveliest interest,

and sensations the most congenial with my own. Here I behold

the stout and manly prowess of the Germans disdaining

servitude; there the generous and lively impetuosity of the

French; on this side, the calm and stately valour of the

Spaniard; on that, the composed and wary magnanimity of the

Italian. Of all the lovers of liberty and virtue, the

magnanimous and the wise, in whatever quarter they may be

found, some secretly favour, others openly approve; some greet

me with congratulations and applause; others, who had long

been proof against conviction, at last yield themselves

captive to the force of truth. Surrounded by congregated

multitudes, I now imagine that, from the columns of Hercules

to the Indian Ocean, I behold the nations of the earth

recovering that liberty which they so long had lost; and that

the people of this island are transporting to other countries

a plant of more beneficial qualities, and more noble growth,

than that which Triptolemus is reported to have carried from

region to region; that they are disseminating the blessings of

civilization and freedom among cities, kingdoms, and nations.

Nor shall I approach unknown, nor perhaps unloved, if it be

told that I am the same person who engaged in single combat

that fierce advocate of despotism; till then reputed

invincible in the opinion of many, and in his own conceit; who

insolently challenged us and our armies to the combat; but

whom, while I repelled his virulence, I silenced with his own

weapons; and over whom, if I may trust to the opinions of

impartial judges, I gained a complete and glorious victory.

That this is the plain unvarnished fact appears from this:

that, after the most noble queen of Sweden, than whom there

neither is nor ever was a personage more attached to

literature and to learned men, had invited Salmasius or

Salmatia (for to which sex he belonged is a matter of

uncertainty) to her court, where he was received with great

distinction, my Defence suddenly surprised him in the midst of

his security. It was generally read, and by the queen among

the rest, who, attentive to the dignity of her station, let

the stranger experience no diminution of her former kindness

and munificence. But, with respect to the rest, if I may

assert what has been often told, and was matter of public

notoriety, such a change was instantly effected in the public

sentiment, that he, who but yesterday flourished in the

highest degree of favour, seemed to-day to wither in neglect;

and soon after receiving permission to depart, he left it

doubtful among many whether he were more honoured when he

came, or more disgraced when he went away; and even in other

places it is clear, that it occasioned no small loss to his

reputation; and all this I have mentioned, not from any futile

motives of vanity or ostentation, but that I might clearly

show, as I proposed in the beginning, what momentous reasons I

had for commencing this work with an effusion of gratitude to

the Father of the universe. Such a preface was most honourable

and appropriate, in which I might prove, by an enumeration of

particulars, that I had not been without my share of human

misery; but that I had, at the same time, experienced singular

marks of the divine regard; that in topics of the highest

concern, the most connected with the exigencies of my country,

and the most beneficial to civil and religious liberty; the

supreme wisdom and beneficence had invigorated and enlarged my

faculties, to defend the dearest interests, not merely of one

people, but of the whole human race, against the enemies of

human liberty; as it were in a full concourse of all the

nations on the earth: and I again invoke the same Almighty

Being, that I may still be able, with the same integrity, the

same diligence, and the same success, to defend those actions

which have been so gloriously achieved; while I vindicate the

authors as well as myself, whose name has been associated with

theirs, not so much for the sake of honour as disgrace, from

unmerited ignominy and reproach.

* * * * *

But the conflict between me and Salmasius is now finally

terminated by his death; and I will not write against the

dead; nor will I reproach him with the loss of life as he did

me with the loss of sight; though there are some who impute

his death to the penetrating severity of my strictures, which

he rendered only the more sharp by his endeavours to resist.

When he saw the work which he had in hand proceed slowly on,

the time of reply elapsed, the public curiosity subsided, his

fame marred, and his reputation lost; the favour of the

princes, whose cause he had so ill defended, alienated, he was

destroyed, after three years of grief, rather by the force of

depression than disease.

* * * * *

If I inveigh against tyrants, what is this to kings? whom I am

far from associating with tyrants. As much as an honest man

differs from a rogue, so much I contend that a king differs

from a tyrant. Whence it is clear, that a tyrant is so far

from being a king, that he is always in direct opposition to a

king. And he who peruses the records of history, will find

that more kings have been subverted by tyrants than by their

subjects. He, therefore, who would authorize the destruction

of tyrants, does not authorize the destruction of kings, but

of the most inveterate enemies to kings.

* * * * *

Let us now come to the charges which were brought against

myself. Is there anything reprehensible in my manners or my

conduct? Surely nothing. What no one, not totally divested of

all generous sensibility, would have done, he reproaches me

with want of beauty and loss of sight.

'Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen

ademptum.'

I certainly never supposed that I should have been obliged to

enter into a competition for beauty with the Cyclops; but he

immediately corrects himself, and says, 'though not indeed

huge, for there cannot be a more spare, shrivelled, and

bloodless form.' It is of no moment to say anything of

personal appearance, yet lest (as the Spanish vulgar,

implicitly confiding in the relations of their priests,

believe of heretics) any one, from the representations of my

enemies, should be led to imagine that I have either the head

of a dog, or the horn of a rhinoceros, I will say something on

the subject, that I may have an opportunity of paying my

grateful acknowledgments to the Deity, and of refuting the

most shameless lies. I do not believe that I was ever once

noted for deformity, by any one who ever saw me; but the

praise of beauty I am not anxious to obtain. My stature

certainly is not tall; but it rather approaches the middle

than the diminutive. Yet what if it were diminutive, when so

many men, illustrious both in peace and war, have been the

same? And how can that be called diminutive, which is great

enough for every virtuous achievement? Nor, though very thin,

was I ever deficient in courage or in strength; and I was wont

constantly to exercise myself in the use of the broadsword, as

long as it comported with my habit and my years. Armed with

this weapon, as I usually was, I should have thought myself

quite a match for any one, though much stronger than myself;

and I felt perfectly secure against the assault of any open

enemy. At this moment I have the same courage, the same

strength, though not the same eyes; yet so little do they

betray any external appearance of injury, that they are as

unclouded and bright as the eyes of those who most distinctly

see. In this instance alone I am a dissembler against my will.

My face, which is said to indicate a total privation of blood,

is of a complexion entirely opposite to the pale and the

cadaverous; so that, though I am more than forty years old,

there is scarcely any one to whom I do not appear ten years

younger than I am; and the smoothness of my skin is not, in

the least, affected by the wrinkles of age. If there be one

particle of falsehood in this relation, I should deservedly

incur the ridicule of many thousands of my countrymen, and

even many foreigners to whom I am personally known. But if he,

in a matter so foreign to his purpose, shall be found to have

asserted so many shameless and gratuitous falsehoods, you may

the more readily estimate the quantity of his veracity on

other topics. Thus much necessity compelled me to assert

concerning my personal appearance. Respecting yours, though I

have been informed that it is most insignificant and

contemptible, a perfect mirror of the worthlessness of your

character and the malevolence of your heart, I say nothing,

and no one will be anxious that anything should be said. I

wish that I could with equal facility refute what this

barbarous opponent has said of my blindness; but I cannot do

it; and I must submit to the affliction. It is not so wretched

to be blind, as it is not to be capable of enduring blindness.

But why should I not endure a misfortune which it behooves

everyone to be prepared to endure if it should happen; which

may, in the common course of things, happen to any man; and

which has been known to happen to the most distinguished and

virtuous persons in history? Shall I mention those wise and

ancient bards, whose misfortunes the gods are said to have

compensated by superior endowments, and whom men so much

revered, that they chose rather to impute their want of sight

to the injustice of heaven than to their own want of innocence

or virtue? What is reported of the Augur Tiresias is well

known; of whom Apollonius sung thus in his Argonautica:

'To men he dared the will divine disclose,

Nor feared what Jove might in his wrath impose.

The gods assigned him age, without decay,

But snatched the blessing of his sight away.'

But God himself is truth; in propagating which, as men display

a greater integrity and zeal, they approach nearer to the

similitude of God, and possess a greater portion of his love.

We cannot suppose the deity envious of truth, or unwilling

that it should be freely communicated to mankind. The loss of

sight, therefore, which this inspired sage, who was so eager

in promoting knowledge among men, sustained, cannot be

considered as a judicial punishment. Or shall I mention those

worthies who were as distinguished for wisdom in the cabinet

as for valour in the field? And first, Timoleon of Corinth,

who delivered his city and all Sicily from the yoke of

slavery; than whom there never lived in any age a more

virtuous man or a more incorrupt statesman: Next Appius

Claudius, whose discreet counsels in the senate, though they

could not restore sight to his own eyes, saved Italy from the

formidable inroads of Pyrrhus: then Cæcilius Metellus the

high-priest, who lost his sight, while he saved, not only the

city, but the palladium, the protection of the city, and the

most sacred relics, from the destruction of the flames. On

other occasions Providence has indeed given conspicuous proofs

of its regard for such singular exertions of patriotism and

virtue; what, therefore, happened to so great and so good a

man, I can hardly place in the catalogue of misfortunes. Why

should I mention others of later times, as Dandolo of Venice,

the incomparable Doge; or Zisca, the bravest leader of the

Bohemians, and the champion of the cross; or Jerome Zanchius,

and some other theologians of the highest reputation? For it

is evident that the patriarch Isaac, than whom no man ever

enjoyed more of the divine regard, lived blind for many years;

and perhaps also his son Jacob, who was equally an object of

the divine benevolence. And in short, did not our Saviour

himself clearly declare that that poor man whom he restored to

sight had not been born blind, either on account of his own

sins or those of his progenitors? And with respect to myself,

though I have accurately examined my conduct, and scrutinized

my soul, I call thee, O God, the searcher of hearts, to

witness, that I am not conscious, either in the more early or

in the later periods of my life, of having committed any

enormity which might deservedly have marked me out as a fit

object for such a calamitous visitation. But since my enemies

boast that this affliction is only a retribution for the

transgressions of my pen, I again invoke the Almighty to

witness, that I never, at any time, wrote anything which I did

not think agreeable to truth, to justice, and to piety. This

was my persuasion then, and I feel the same persuasion now.

Nor was I ever prompted to such exertions by the influence of

ambition, by the lust of lucre or of praise; it was only by

the conviction of duty and the feeling of patriotism, a

disinterested passion for the extension of civil and religious

liberty. Thus, therefore, when I was publicly solicited to

write a reply to the Defence of the royal cause, when I had to

contend with the pressure of sickness, and with the

apprehension of soon losing the sight of my remaining eye, and

when my medical attendants clearly announced, that if I did

engage in the work, it would be irreparably lost, their

premonitions caused no hesitation and inspired no dismay. I

would not have listened to the voice even of Æsculapius

himself from the shrine of Epidaurus, in preference to the

suggestions of the heavenly monitor within my breast; my

resolution was unshaken, though the alternative was either the

loss of my sight, or the desertion of my duty: and I called to

mind those two destinies, which the oracle of Delphi announced

to the son of Thetis:

'I by my Goddess-mother have been warned,

The silver-footed Thetis, that o'er me

A double chance of destiny impends:

If here remaining, round the walls of Troy

I wage the war, I ne'er shall see my home,

But then undying glory shall be mine:

If I return, and see my native land,

My glory all is gone; but length of life

Shall then be mine, and death be long deferred.'

—_Iliad_, ix. 410-416.

An Introduction to the Prose and Poetical Works of John Milton Comprising All the Autobiographic Passages in His Works, the More Explicit Presentations of His Ideas of True Liberty. · 第 2 / 23 段