do greatly err, who think that the stars are the only poetry cities have, and that, therefore, the poet's only dwelling should be in sylvan solitudes under the green roofs of trees! Beautiful, no doubt, are all the forms of nature when transfigured by the marvellous power of poetry: hamlets and harvest-fields, and nut-brown waters flowing ever under the forests vast and shadowy, with all the sights and sounds of rural life. But, after all, what are these but the decorations and painted scenery in the great theatre of human life! Glorious indeed is the world of God around us; but more glorious the world of God within us. There lies the land of song, there lies the poet's native land. The river of life that flows along streets, tumultuous, bearing along so many gallant hearts, so many wrecks of humanity,-to be in this, and a part of this, acting, thinking, rejoicing, sorrowing, with his fellow men,—such, such should be the poet's life and school. His mind should come in contact with other minds. It is better his armour be bruised even by rude encounters, than that it should for ever hang rusting on the walls. These are the great themes of poetry, and not green grass, and flowers, and mountains.”

The fierce conflicts and controversies of the time in which Milton took so active a part, were now reaching their climax in the imprisonment and execution of the king. Whilst the tribunal was sitting in judgment on the fallen monarch, he took no part in the dispute as to what should be the fate of Charles. But when judgment had been pronounced, and the king's head had fallen on the scaffold, when the timid and the time-serving, the Presbyterians and the Royalists, were denouncing that act of stern and bloody justice, Milton came forth to defend, and, if needs be, to share the opprobrium of the deed. A tract on The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates,* which he had written for the

satisfaction of his own mind, was re-written, enlarged, and published, about a month after the execution. It is not necessary for us here to discuss either the justice or the expediency of the policy which brought Charles to the scaffold. If the expression of an opinion may be allowed in passing, we should say that it was just but not wise. The king deserved to die, but it was not expedient to put him to death. This, however, is being wise after the event, and the chiefs of the army doubtless believed that they had sufficient reason both in justice and in expediency for what they did. All we have to do with here, however, is the conduct of Milton; and we cannot do better than quote, with emphatic approval, the words of Macaulay:-"Though we think the conduct of the regicides blameable, that of Milton appears to us in a very different light. The deed was done. It could not be undone. The evil was incurred, and the object was to render it as small as possible. We censure the chiefs of the army, for not yielding to the popular opinion; but we cannot censure Milton for wishing to change that opinion. The very feeling which would have restrained us from committing the act, would have led us, after it had been committed, to defend it against the ravings of servility and superstition. For the sake of public liberty, we wish that the thing had not been done while the people disapproved it. But for the sake of public liberty we should also have wished the people to approve of it when it was done."

The publication of this treatise was speedily followed by Milton's appointment as Secretary for the Foreign Tongues to the revolutionary government. Latin then held the place in diplomatic and international intercourse now held by French. All letters of state were

written in that language, and Milton, as incomparably the best Latinist of his day, had the strongest claim to the appointment. It is not impossible, however, that the appearance of his pamphlet had some influence in recommending him to the notice of the authorities. As Latin Secretary, he was the agent of Cromwell's foreign policy, and wrote those letters of state which, as diplomatic documents, have never been surpassed. He was especially happy in that part of his work which had to do with the persecutions of the Waldenses, and by his exertions in their cause earned a right to the lasting gratitude of Protestant Europe. But the course pursued by Cromwell and his Secretary in the negotiations with the Duke of Savoy, on behalf of his oppressed subjects, was only part of their general policy. There may be,-there are,-differences of judgment respecting the home government of the great Protector. There can be none as to his attitude towards foreign powers. In the eloquent words of Walter Savage Landor,

"Never did our England, since she first emerged from the ocean, rise to such a height above the surrounding nations. The rivalry of Holland, the pride of Spain, the insolence of France, were thrust back with one finger each, yet those countries were then more powerful than they had ever been. The sword of Cromwell was preceded by the mace of Milton, that mace which, when Cromwell had rendered his account, opened to us the garden-gate of Paradise. And there were some around who were not unworthy to enter with him. In the compass of sixteen hundred years, you will not number, on the whole earth, so many wise and admirable men as you could have found united in that single day, when England showed her true magnitude, and solved the question,-Which is most, one or a million? There

were giants in those days; but giants who feared God, and not who fought against Him!"

And amongst all those gigantic intellects there was not one which rose to so towering an altitude as Milton.

The circumstances under which he was called upon to write the Eikonoklastes, and the First and Second Defence of the People of England,* will be found recorded in the introductions to those books, together with the fact that the composition of the second of these treatises cost him his sight. It was shortly after blindness settled down upon him that his wife died, leaving him with three infant daughters,—Anne, Mary, and Deborah,—the eldest only six years old, and a cripple. In 1656, he again married. His second wife was Catherine, daughter of Captain Woodcock, of Hackney. His union with her seems to have been most happy; but, alas! it was all too brief. She died, within a year of marriage, in giving birth to a daughter, which soon followed her to the grave. He has embalmed her memory in one of his sweetest and tenderest sonnets.

The duties of Latin Secretary were not onerous, especially as he enjoyed the efficient aid of Meadows, and subsequently of Andrew Marvell. He returned, therefore, to the great literary projects which had been postponed, but never forgotten. A new cause of disquietude, however, was now to come upon him. On the 3rd of September, 1658, Cromwell died. Milton saw, with deepest sorrow and gloomy foreboding, the perils which were gathering round the cause to which he had devoted his life. Tyranny in

* Pages 132-160.

politics, and intolerance in religion, were again threatening the country. Whoever was treacherous to his principles, or apostate from his profession, or a fugitive from the post of duty and of danger, Milton would not be that man. He published a succession of pamphlets, in which the sacred cause of liberty, both political and religious, was pleaded with all his wonted force, if with something less than his former eloquence. In rapid succession there appeared A Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes; Considerations touching the likeliest Means to Remove Hirelings from the Church; A Letter to a Friend concerning the Ruptures of the Commonwealth; The present Means and brief Delineation of a free Commonwealth, in a Letter to General Monk; A Ready and Easy Way to Establish a free Commonwealth, and the excellence thereof; and Notes upon a late Sermon, titled the Fear of God and the King. But all was in vain: the great body of the English people were madly bent upon the restoration of the king. The Republican leaders proved themselves incompetent, and some of them were traitors. A solemn farce was played out at Breda. The Presbyterian ministers were admitted into the ante-chamber, that they might overhear the king at his devotions! Monk carried over a large portion of the army to the royal cause. And Charles the Second was restored to the throne, without conditions, on the faith of a few vague and empty promises, which the royal perjurer never meant to keep-unless compelled. Then commenced that dark and disastrous night of national shame and dishonour, which we would gladly blot from our annals, if it were possible-our rulers, from the king downwards, pensioners on the French court; our navy, which under Blake had swept the seas, reduced to