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Milton's Imagery
Milton's Imagery BY
THEODORE HOWARD BANKS
NEW
YORK
COLUMBIA U N I V E R S I T Y PRESS
COPYRIGHT
I9SO,
COLUMBIA
UNIVERSITY
PRESS, N E W
YORK
Fini printing 1950 Second printing 1954
PUBLISHED
IN GREAT
BY GEOFFREY
BRITAIN,
CUMBERLEGE,
CANADA,
INDIA, AND
OXFORD U N I V E R S I T Y
LONDON, TORONTO, BOMBAY,
AND
PAKISTAN PRESS
KARACHI
M A N U F A C T U R E D IN T H E UNITED STATES OF
AMERICA
To MY WIFE whose profound and cheerful ignorance of Milton has been a godsend
Ackno wie dgments RATEFUL acknowledgments are made to Wesleyan University for two leaves of absence; to the Wes· leyan Research Committee for funds; to numerous colleagues for aid in tracing allusions, comments on the text, and the like, especially to Carey H . Conley, Alexander Cowie, Fred B. Millett, Adolph F. Pauli, Wilbert Snow, John W . Spaeth, and Homer E . Woodbridge; and in particular to Merritt Y . Hughes for his searching examination of the whole manuscript. Grateful acknowledgments are also made to the publishers and copyright owners for permission to quote from the following books: Merritt Y . Hughes, ed., Paradise Lost (Doubleday, Doran & Company, Inc., 1 9 3 5 ) and Paradise Regained (Doubleday, Doran & Company, Inc., 1 9 3 7 ) ; E . M . W. Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (The Macmillan Company, 1 9 4 4 ) ; Sigmund Spaeth, Milton's Knowledge of Music (Princeton University Library, 1 9 1 3 ) . Throughout this volume the quotations from Milton are taken from The Works of John Milton ( 1 8 vols., Columbia University Press, 1 9 3 4 - 1 9 3 6 ) ; the references are to volume and page. THEODORE H .
Middletown, Connecticut October, IÇ49
BANKS
Contents INTRODUCTION
xi
1.
LONDON PUBLIC LIFE
I
2.
LONDON PRIVATE LIFE
46
3.
TRAVEL AND WAR
71
4.
NATURE
93
5.
ANIMALS
142
6.
BOOKS AND LEARNING
167
INDEX
251
Introduction
S
many books might be written on Milton's use of imagery, it is desirable to explain at the outset the method and purpose of this particular one. T h e subject is very complex, as anybody may understand who reads no more than the chapter in Wellek and W a r r e n ' s Theory of Literature entitled "Image, M e t a p h o r , Symbol, M y t h . " T h e r e is, in the first place, the difficulty of definition. An image may be considered as a word that recalls to our minds a sensation, an impression, not merely visual but belonging to any of the senses: sound, smell, balance, pressure, heat and cold, and the like. Miss Rosemond Tuve's Elizabethan and Metaphysical Imagery attacks the problem f r o m this point of view. On the other hand, an image may be considered a figure of speech, that is, a simile, metaphor, or personification. M a n y books have adopted this definition, notably Miss Spurgeon's Shakespeare's Imagery. T h i s is the definition upon which this study is based. Even within the f r a m e w o r k of so limited a concept many lines of approach may be followed. Yet they all fall into one of two main divisions: they are primarily concerned either with the f o r m or with the content of the imagery. Clearly the f o r m or structure of imagery may be made the subject of fruitful study. Everyone uses its various devices to relieve the monotony of flat statement and to give life and vividness to his speech or writing. Hence, imagery is a highly individual stylistic element. Its differences in intensity and complexity, its force or delicacy, its range of depth and fullness, its rhetorical function as an embellishment or as an integral INCE
3d
Xlt
Introduction
part of the thought—all do much to illuminate our understanding of a writer's art. If, however, we wish to examine not the writer's art but his character, we find the imagery equally helpful. In this case, we must turn from its form to its content and must consider the sources from which it is derived : books, nature, and so on. W e need not be precise in our definition; indeed we may on occasion deliberately overstep the limits of figurative language. Aesthetic considerations are largely irrelevant. W e are concerned not with the various types of images, the degree of their elaboration, or their literary quality or function, but only with the manner in which they reveal the writer's fields of interest: his preoccupations and beliefs, his likes and dislikes, his knowledge or ignorance, his experience or lack of it, in short, his personality. Undertaking to explore, through an analysis of the subject matter of Milton's images, the various aspects of his complex character, this book cannot be said to change our basic impressions of him. Yet new lights and shadows, new background and new perspective make a familiar portrait more lifelike and more memorable. Certain difficulties inherent in this method of approach became apparent at once. T o be valid, the analysis had to be comprehensive and not selective; hence, elaborate charts, tables of percentages, and other statistics had to be compiled. In this process formidable problems arose in classification and enumeration, which had sometimes to be solved by what amounted to hairsplitting. Furthermore, statistics could not discriminate qualitatively between one image and another—between, for example, a brief commonplace and an involved Homeric simile—so that they were, without interpretation, more misleading than helpful. They had, therefore, ultimately to be discarded, and they do not appear in this book. Yet this should be said: images may be unimportant singly but significant cumulatively, and this
Introduction
xtit
significance can be uncovered only by statistical methods. In this connection the question arises of the validity of the argument f r o m silence. T o this there is no simple and clearcut answer. Whether or not the absence of a certain type of image is significant depends partly on the total number of images under consideration (in this study some six thousand Miltonic and some two thousand non-Miltonic images), partly on whether or not the missing images are readily usable in a given context, and partly on the evidence of related images. For example, three figures, of which early instances can be found, come from the game of chess : pawn, check or checkmate, and stalemate. Yet none of them is used either by Shakespeare, who has many images of other games and sports, or by Milton, who has few. Obviously the same explanation for this circumstance will not serve in both cases. This problem leads to the next, that of whether or not a given image is conscious or subconscious. So far as this book is concerned the problem is irrelevant. N o assumption is here made that all the images are conscious, although many of them obviously are, such as those involving historical or mythological references. On the other hand, no theories are here advanced concerning Milton's subconscious mind. T h e author is not among the number of literary critics who rush in where trained psychologists fear to tread. The assumption is made, however, that the imagery reveals Milton the man, since he is speaking to us directly, except of course in Comus, Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes. Some qualification might have to be made when an image is found in a speech by a character in one of these poems—one such image is noted as representing the point of view of Comus—but the qualification would surely be slight, much slighter than in the case of Shakespeare. Another obvious difficulty was the danger of attaching importance to images that were in fact stereotyped both in themselves and in their treatment, with the added danger
XIV
Introduction
of judging Milton by modern standards of conventionality. Only a complete catalogue of the literature existing in his day would accurately reveal the commonplaceness o f any given image. In default of such a guide, selected examples had to serve. Accordingly, an analysis was made : of the works of poets, such as Giles and Phineas Fletcher, whose suDject matter was similar to that o f M i l t o n ; of extensive passages from numerous prose writers, such as Hooker and Joseph Hall, and from pamphleteers, such as Lord Brooke (Robert Greville), William Godwin, John Goodwin, John Lilburne, Henry Parker, and William Walwyn; Eikon Basilike; and all the non-Miltonic pamphlets on both sides of the Smectymnuus controversy. It is hoped that these writings have served as a sufficient control. Since merely their content was considered, the images were often lifted from their context, and a complex image or a close-knit group of images was always dissected and treated as a series of independent units. Y e t this procedure, inadmissible in a rhetorical study, does not invalidate the approach adopted here. T h e r e seem to be no significant sequences or associations of images such as those of Shakespeare discussed by Spurgeon (eyes-tears-vaults; or dogslicking-candy), and no image that dominates a given piece of writing. Since, however, no special attention was given to these characteristics, they may have escaped observation. When all is said and done, this study is basically subjective, but in being so it is no different from nearly all literary criticism. It is merely one evaluation of the evidence. I f anyone else wishes to voyage across chaos, to tempt with wandring feet T h e dark unbottom'd infinite Abyss And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way the opportunity is still his.
CHAPTER
I
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N spite of M i l t o n ' s seven years at Cambridge, his long seclusion at H o r t o n , and his Continental travels, it is natural to think of him primarily as a L o n d o n e r . F o r most of his life he lived at the center of governmental, business, and social activity, exposed to the influence of all the classes of men and all the incidents of life in a g r e a t metropolis. H i s response reveals certain clearly m a r k e d qualities. Considering first his attitude t o w a r d the social order of his day with its pronounced stratification, we find that the images drawn f r o m the upper classes are relatively few and unimportant. T h o s e based on the king's court or on the household of a great noble are not sharply defined, being f o r the most p a r t concerned merely with the general function or habitual course of action of a servant, retainer, or official. 1 Only occasionally do they visualize a specific action : a busy almoner deals out his supplies, nimble servitors trip about at command, a herald is alert to deliver his greeting. N o r does Milton seem to have been especially interested in the machinery of government, as he has only a few miscellaneous images that have to do with it : taxation, the oath of allegiance, the seals of office, the granting of patents, and the like. T h e rather startling metaphor of a heavenly council, where Christ was w o n t at H e a v ' n s h i g h C o u n c e l - T a b l e , T o sit the midst of T r i n a i U n i t y , (Nat. Ode, I, ι ) 1
An usher, page, fool, sewer, doorkeeper, purveyor, secretary, favorite, and retainer w e a r i n g his patron's badge.
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is probably derivative. 2 When, however, we come to his attitude toward the nature of government itself, we come to a problem that is interesting and important, but one that lies f o r the most part outside the scope of this study. 3 A t the beginning of his career Milton, like his contemporaries, thought in terms of monarchy. H i s early works are filled with royalist imagery eulogistic in tone; to be dominant or superior is to reign as king or queen : then . . . with bearing erect and lofty, Knowledge appears . . . it enthrones itself on high with the intellect as king and emperor, whence it views farther down, as it were lowly and underfoot, whatever is done by the will; and finally it . . . takes to itself . . . preeminence, renown, and majesty almost divine; (Prolusion V I I , X I I , 2 6 1 ) For what lesse indignity were this, then as if Justice her self the Queen of vertues, descending from her scepter'd royalty . . . should compound . . . with sin; (Doct. Div., I l l , 4 7 3 )
royal dignity is founded on justice and virtue, 4 a monarch commands the utmost respect, since he is by right the head of the state : 5 Justice, truly royal, compels reverence to herself ; (Prolusion V I I , XII, 271)
this respect is enhanced not only by his throne and scepter, but by other constituents of his "thrice-gorgeous ceremony"; the fall of Prelacy . . . cannot shake the least fringe that borders the royal canopy; (Ref., III, 4 9 ) [ T h e bishops are] meddling to turne, and dandle the Royall unskilfull and Pedantick palmes; (Ref., I I I , 5 2 )
Ball with
- See Phineas Fletcher, " T h a t Trine-one with himself in councell sits," The Purple Island, I, st. 44. 3 Its wider implications are discussed in M . M . Ross, Milton') Royaliim (Ithaca, N . Y . , Cornell University Press, 1 9 4 3 ) . Ross's conclusions are not supported by the present study. 4 See Chapter 6, where this foundation is contrasted to a house of cards. 5 In his long f a b l e of the members of the body, the head—by implication the king—rightfully holds the first place. See Chapter 2, note 32.
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his escutcheon should symbolize his preeminence : β [ A Biblical reading that made G o d speak unmajestically] were as if a Herald in the Atcheivment of a King, should commit the indecorum to set his helmet sidewaies and close, not full fac't and open in the posture of direction and command. {Tetra., I V , 109)
H e is attended by armed guards : it stood more with the Majesty of that office [Roman censor] to have no other Serjeants or maces about them but those invisible ones of T e r ror and shame; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 5 1 )
and is f o l l o w e d by a retinue of attendants: Affections and Desires . . . those Pathetick handmaids of the soul . . . [lead truth] to their Queen [the understanding] ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 249) all noble sciences attending upon the traine of Christian doctrine. (Anim., I l l , 1 6 7 )
E v e n when surrounded by evil counselors he is not himself to blame f o r w h a t they do ; he is like Samson in the hands o f the Philistines—an image of the greatest interest in the light of the future : I cannot better liken the state and person of a K i n g then to that mighty Nazarite Samson; w h o being disciplin'd from his birth in the precepts and the practice of Temperance and Sobriety, without the strong drink of injurious and excessive desires, grows up to a noble strength and perfection with those his illustrious and sunny locks the laws w a v i n g and curling about his god like shoulders. A n d while he keeps them about him undiminisht and unshorn, he may with the jaw-bone of an Asse, that is, w i t h the word of his meanest officer suppresse and put to confusion thousands of those that rise against his just power. B u t laying down his head among the strumpet flatteries of Prélats, while he sleeps and thinks no harme, they wickedly shaving off all those bright and waighty tresses of his laws, and just prerogatives which were his ornament and strength, deliver him over to indirect and violent councels, which as those Philistims put out the fair, and farre-sighted eyes of his 8 T h i s image, which ¡9 based on a minor detail, suggests that Milton's knowledge 0/ heraldry w a s extensive. T h e suggestion is supported by a reference in his Commonplace Book ( X V I I I , 1 9 J ) to Guillim. John Guillim, A Display of Heraldrie, was a comprehensive treatment of tbe subject, which went through six editions between 1 6 1 0 and 1666.
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natural discerning, and make him grinde in the prison house of their sinister ends and practices upon him. T i l l he knowing his prelatical rasor to have bereft him of his wonted might, nourish again his puissant hair, the golden beames of L a w and Right; and they sternly shook, thunder with ruin upon the heads of those his evil counsellors, but not without great affliction to himselfe. ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 7 6 - 2 7 7 )
M o r e o v e r , religious no less than political thinking was based on kingship. Royalist symbolism is applied to G o d throughout the Bible ; even in the teaching of Jesus no phrase comes to mind more readily than " t h e kingdom of heaven." Hence, M i l t o n speaks of excommunication as the inviolable Prerogative of Christs diadem, (Ref.,
III, 7 1 )
and invests Christ with all the regalia of kingly office, Come forth out of thy Royall Chambers, O Prince of all the Kings of the earth, put on the visible roabes of thy imperiall Majesty, take up that unlimited Scepter which thy Almighty Father hath bequeath'd thee; ( A n i m . , I l l , 1 4 8 ) [Ministers boast their own discipline] to be the throne and scepter of Christ. (Tenure, V , 3 8 )
Such imagery occurs naturally in M i l t o n ' s early poems and pamphlets, but a f t e r he had been associated with a government that had cut off the King's head, he found this mode of thought coming into violent conflict with his politics. In consequence, he makes an obvious, conscious effort to fit his writing to his new philosophy. Royalist imagery becomes f o r the first time d e r o g a t o r y — i m a g e r y , that is, directed against kingship as an institution, not that directed against the person of Charles I. A king is hostile and threatening: you [Morus] spoke in a menacing tone, and like a king; (Def. of Him., I X , 1 1 3 )
his utterances are weighty, but only because they are backed by the strength of the l a w ; otherwise they do not rise above the common level : The words of a King, as they are full of power, in the authority and strength of L a w , so like Sampson, without the strength of that Naza-
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rites lock, they have no more power in them then the words of another man; (Eikon.,V, 257)
he himself is either a nonentity or bad, never g o o d : it is well and happy for the people if thir King be but a cypher, being oft times a mischief, a pest, a scourge of the nation ; (Ready & Easy Way,\I, 121)
he demands excessive adulation : a king must be ador'd like a Demigod. (Ready tí Easy Way, V I , 1 2 0 )
Y e t , though apparently formidable, he is a contemptible thing : kingship, though looking big, [is] yet indeed most pusillanimous, full of fears, full of jealousies, startl'd at every ombrage. (Ready tí Easy Way, V I , 1 4 2 )
Surrounded by flattery, a queen is filled with self-assurance. Satan realizes that a woman sent to tempt Christ would fail utterly even if she were confident A s sitting Queen ador'd on Beauties throne. (P.R.,
II, 4 3 1 )
Other images, concerned not with the king himself but with royal affairs, are likewise uncomplimentary. A sermon addressed to King Charles I is trivial: These petty glosses and conceits [of King Charles on the events of the w a r ] are so weake and shallow, and so like the quibbl's of a Court Sermon, that we may safely reck'n them . . . fetcht from such a
pattern. (Eiion.,V, 147)
T h e clergyman preaching, just before the Restoration, in f a v o r of King Charles I I renders himself in Parliament's just resentment of this boldness, another Doctor Manwaring, (Brief Notes, V I , 1 5 4 )
Charles I's chaplain, who in 1628 was fined and imprisoned by Parliament f o r preaching the absolute authority of the King. T h e pomp of a royal procession is tedious. 7 7
See b e l o w : [ A d a m ] " w a l k s f o r t h , " etc.
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H a b i t , h o w e v e r , is h a r d to b r e a k . K i n g s h a d been r e v e r e d f o r centuries, and C r o m w e l l o r no C r o m w e l l , the royalist i m a g e r y of the Bible r e m a i n e d the s a m e . H e n c e , M i l t o n o f t e n s p e a k s in his e a r l y m a n n e r . T r u t h is still a queen, queen truth ought to be preferred to king Charles, (See. Dtf., V I I I , 139) as is E v e w h e n , in h e r innocence and nobility, she l e a v e s A d a m to his t a l k w i t h R a p h a e l : With Goddess-like demeanour forth she went ; Not unattended, for on her as Queen A pomp of winning Graces waited still. (P.L., II, 237) M o r e o v e r , the h e a v e n s a r e still, to a l a r g e extent, monarchical : the sun is the " r e g e n t o f d a y , " the constellations f r o m his l o r d l y eye k e e p their due distance, and the clouds t h a t attend his w e s t e r n t h r o n e a r e a r r a y e d in b r i l l i a n t colors. T h e m o o n " i n her p a l e d o m i n i o n " r e i g n s o v e r the n i g h t ; she has a train o f s t a r s t h a t a r e b r i g h t until she, Rising in clouded Majestie, at length Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light. ( P . L . , II, 128) F i n a l l y , the m o r n i n g s t a r crownst the smiling Morn With thy bright Circlet. ( P . L . , II, 150) T h e inconsistency e v i d e n t in this g r o u p o f
figures
is in-
t e r e s t i n g but n o t surprising, f o r M i l t o n ' s unconscious m o d e o f thinking h a d b e c o m e fixed and could n o t be changed so easily as his conscious principles. I m a g e r y in p a r t i c u l a r has a w a y o f o u t l i v i n g its time. E v e n in this m e c h a n i c a l age, many o f us w h o g o b a c k t o the h o r s e - a n d - b u g g y d a y s still talk about h o l d i n g y o u r horses, o r h o l d i n g the w h i p h a n d o v e r someone. M i l t o n did not, of course, h a v e to r e a d j u s t all his social v a l u e s , since even a f t e r the execution o f the K i n g the social organization
as
a whole
continued
without
appreciable
c h a n g e . H e n c e , M i l t o n ' s i m a g e s on levels b e l o w r o y a l t y remain constant. T h o s e d r a w n f r o m the p r o f e s s i o n a l classes
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are rare : the apostles are the architects of the church; a minister is a physician to the soul; a wicked man thinks that he can bribe G o d like a corrupt j u d g e ; justice can no more compromise with sin than " s o m e wretched itinerary J u d g e " can let the prisoners b e f o r e him break his head. A conspicuous exception, however, is a g r o u p of images of teaching: law teaches like a schoolmaster, and like a strict one punishes every trespass; in interpreting Scripture it is against G o d ' s covenant of love f o r man to be too rigid, like a severe pedag o g u e ; it is not fitting for the M a j e s t y of Scripture to humble her self in artificial theorems . . . like a professor in the Schools; (Tetra., I V , 107) [ I t is arrogance that K i n g Charles] should sit . . . Schoolmaster, to tutor those [Parliaments] w h o were sent by the whole Realme to be his Counselers and teachers; (Eikon., V , 1 8 1 ) [ Y o u say] Whoever therefore is not punished offends not: it is not the theft but the punishment that makes the thief! Salmasius the G r a m marian commits no solecisms now, because he has pulled his hand from under the ferule! (First Def., V I I , 435)
Certainly M i l t o n the schoolmaster is speaking here. 8 In r e g a r d to his f a t h e r ' s business, the evidence is not so clear. W h i l e M i l t o n has no images that specifically mention the profession of scrivener, there are a number that may possibly r e f e r to it. In the seventeenth century, a scrivener made official translations of charters and like documents; made out certified accounts o f r e c o r d s ; drew up deeds (such as mortg a g e s f o r loans) and conveyances ( t h a t is leases, etc.) f o r transferring the title to p r o p e r t y ; and acted as agent in making purchases and investments. M i l t o n has a fair-sized group of images based on nearly all these activities : [Divorce is] this tenure and free-hold of mankind, this native and domestick Charter giv'n us by a greater Lord then that Saxon K i n g the Confessor; (Doct. Div., I l l , 3 7 5 ) 8
M i l t o n h a s also a l a r g e g r o u p of i m a g e s o f t e a c h i n g f r o m the
p o i n t o f v i e w . S e e C h a p t e r 2, in t h e d i s c u s s i o n o f t h e p a r e n t - c h i l d
schoolboy's relationship.
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W h a t hath the soule of man deserv'd . . . that it should be morgag'd thus [restricted from divorce], and may not redeem it selfe . . . out of the hands of such ignorant . . . teachers; ( T e t r a I V , 2 2 1 ) if I w e r e certain to w r i t e as men buy Leases, f o r three lives and downw a r d , there ought no regard be sooner had, then to G o d s glory by the honour and instruction of my country. ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 3 6 )
T h e s e , together with images that deal with debts, loans, and the deposit of money,® may reflect aspects of the scrivener's profession. 1 0 It is entirely possible, however, that they r e f e r to general business or legal procedure, especially since M i l ton has a large number of legal figures, such as those of incurring and being released f r o m a legal penalty, 1 1 and of taking part in various legal (and illegal) activities, 1 2 specifically those connected with actual courtroom practice. 1 3 H e • T o pay and forgive a debt, go on trust for the future payment of a debt, break the terms of a loan, and deposit money for safe keeping. 1 0 He has also images based on the coin itself. Those dealing with the coin's figure and inscription probably derive from the Biblical passage in which the Pharisees show Jesus the tribute money due to Caesar (Matthew 22:20), a passage that Milton discusses in Tetrachordon (IV, 142) : [Circe's] pleasing poison T h e visage quite transforms of him that drinks, A n d the inglorious likenes of a beast Fixes instead, unmoulding reasons mintage Character'd in the f a c e ; (Comus, I, 104) How counterfeit a coin they are who friends Bear in their Superscription. (S.Α., I, 343) More commonplace images deal with money a9 legal currency: "the odde coinage of your [Remonstrant's] phrase which no mintmaister of language would allow for sterling"; (Anim., III, 12g) [Bishops are] "clippers of regal power and shavers of the l a w . " (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 277) T o cancel a purchased right, redeem from a claim, incur a forfeiture, and renew a lapsed or forfeited power. 1 2 T o compound and come to a treaty, go through bankruptcy and discharge a bankrupt, enact and comply with a statute, sue, go bail and jump bail, be an accomplice or confederate, take a fee on both sides, and make a champarty (an illegal procedure in which a person not concerned helps a suit on condition of receiving a reward). 1 3 T o draw a bill of attainture or a writ of error, bring in an indictment, cite for contempt of court, bring to the bar or into court, bind over to or arraign before the court, impanel a jury and appoint a foreman, put on the witness stand, and act as pursivant (attendant) and apparitor (an officer to execute the order of the magistrate). 11
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can hardly be said, therefore, to show close and detailed interest in his father's profession. I m a g e s of the lower and the middle classes, the ordinary citizens with whom he came into constant contact in the shops and streets, are larger in number and give a clearer reflection of the life about him. It is true that an extensive group of such images derive f r o m books rather than life, a favorite image of M i l t o n and of his contemporaries being that of bonds and bondage, 1 4 one that stems f r o m the Biblical use of the words, both literal and figurative. In addition, Milton went to the Bible f o r his frequent image of a yoke or yoking, 1 6 and usually to the classics f o r those of a slave. 1 ® F r o m books too comes the image of a man laboring in the mines of knowledge. It is also true that Milton shows no real familiarity with the basic processes 1 7 or tools 1 8 of everyday life, his use of such figures being very perfunctory. Clearly he is not a man accustomed to doing things with his hands. Equally superficial, though not quite so commonplace, are his figures of distilling, spinning, dyeing, tailoring, various processes involving metal, 1 9 and various methods of sticking substances 14 Also: chains, fetters, manacles, shackles, clogs, and the related verbs to tie, bind, etc. 16 A very common figure throughout the Bible. 19 In the cases of: a slave at a slave market; a menial household slave; a nomenclátor, that is, a slave who tells his master the names of the people whom he meets in the streets; and a galley slave. In one case Milton refers to "Norman villenage," and in others the reference is generalized. For two images of Biblical slavery see Chapter 6, notes 87 and 88. 17 Such as sifting, whetting, or dulling an edge. 18 Such as a furnace, mould, forge, anvil, axle, pulley, and in particular a scales or balance. This last is a favorite 17th century image whose origin is doubtless the Bible, since these two words occur there many times both literally and figuratively. 19 T o file, polish, rivet, and blanch. There are two which do not show great knowledge but which are so sharply visual that they may well be the result of observation : [all parts of the sun are] alike informd With radiant light, as glowing Iron with fire; (P.L., II, 98)
[The gates of Hell] like a Furnace mouth Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame. (P.L., II, 69) The second simile probably refers, like the first, to an iron foundry.
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together. 2 0 N o n e of these references show more than the a v e r a g e knowledge reflected also in the writings of his contemporaries. Indeed, the suspicion seems reasonable that in certain instances M i l t o n has less than a v e r a g e knowledge. H e often uses the figure of sifting grain or flour, but never that of judging the quality of a grainsack by one h a n d f u l ; 2 1 he uses the proverbial expressions of seeming a chip of the old block, of driving out one nail by means of another, and of meddling with edged tools, but does not use other common images of carpentry, such as those of green or seasoned wood, or of roughhewing. Y e t when these exceptions are made, there remain a smaller but more significant group of images that derive f r o m his experience of the sights and sounds of the city, not only of the activities of specific trades but also of city life in general. A l m o s t all of these occur in his prose, as they would not readily be suggested by the subject matter of his poems. In some cases the reference, usually derogatory, is merely to the occupation itself: Bishop H a l l is a rude scavenger, he has thoughts lower than any beadle and talks like a cutler; the anonymous victim of M i l t o n ' s Colasterion is a nameless hangman; Salmasius, hired as a public crier for the royalists' lies, is the pugilist of tyrants, a horse-boy, a buffoon, and plays the gypsy throughout his book. Versifiers yearn f o r the fabrication of a multitude of verses, and together with the actors, hanker a f t e r applause even when the play is over. In other cases, the images bring an individual action o r scene b e f o r e us: the watchman telling us that the night is passing; the chamberlain of an inn making a guest comfortable f o r the night ; the grisly porter clapping the dungeon gate upon a prisoner; 22 the victualler diluting pure wine; T o solder, glue, paste, and cement. Fuller, " O f Books," The Holy Slate and the Profane State: " T h e genius of the author is commonly discovered in the dedicatory epistle. M a n y .place the purest grain in the mouth of the sack for chapmen to handle or buy." 2 2 A similar v i v i d image derives from his imagination: [Some married couples] "live as they w e r e deadly enemies in a cage together." ( Tetra., I V , 89) 20 21
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a runaway servant being stripped of his livery; the beggar in cast-off rags invoking charity with a written appeal ; a harlot with the varnish laid thick on her cheek; a building in the course of erection with its piles of rubbish and its temp o r a r y scaffolding. 2 3 Some of the images are to the modern reader particularly revealing of the London of Milton's day : the smells of the streets, Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire; ( P . L . , I I , 276) the litter of a bakery or a barber-shop : [Salmasius] you would not reject opinions to suit your argument though they were the sweepings of a baker's shop or a barbershop—yes, or of the very gallows ; (First De}., V I I , 3 1 9 ) the methods of the barber himself: [Milton's opponent] comes to the Position, which I sett down whole; and . . . slits it into fowr, that hee may the better come at it with his Barbar Surgery, and his sleevs turn'd up; (Colati., I V , 250) and those of a midwife : [ T r u t h ] never comes into the world, but like a Bastard . . . till Time the Midwife rather then the mother of Truth, have washt and salted the Infant, declar'd her légitimât; (Doct. Div., I l l , 370) the gruesome preparations for a funeral, and its ostentatious ceremonies : [ T h e writer of a testimonial for More] from his solicitude to adorn an object so unworthy, appears less to decorate a living person, than to entomb a putrid corpse, stuffed with aromatics; ( D e f . of Him., I X , 207) 23 T h e prose images of building based on these two ideas are the only ones of any vividness that come within Milton's daily experience. T h e poetry supplies a f e w with the more remote and romantic suggestiveness of a palace or a tower. T h e l a r g e number that remain are either generalized commonplaces (to lay a foundation, groundwork, headstone; ground, found o n ; build (upon) ; place on a (solid, treacherous) foundation; erect, raise, r e a r a monument, superstructure, f a b l i c ; a (to) prop, buttress, pillar, rampart, b u l w a r k ; to undermine, lay low, pull, shake d o w n ; sink, tumble in pieces) or derive f r o m M i l ton's reading of the classics (the banquet hall of the g o d s ) , Spenser (the House of P r i d e ) , or the Bible (the heavenly J e r u s a l e m or the earthly T e m p l e , and v a r i o u s figurative passages, such as to build on sand or a rock, the pillars of heaven, the body as the temple of G o d , and so o n ) . One or two are v i v i d but not within his experience, such as the f a l l of a tower or the top of a p y r a m i d .
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[ T h e opening of Salmasius's defense of the King was] most like the trumpery doleful wailings of hired mourner-women ; (First Def., V I I , 17) and, by contrast, the indecent haste of a pauper burial : [Salmasius] you . . . spirit your tyrants away like paupers, huggermugger, for burial at dusk to conceal their violent deaths; (First Def., V I I , 335) a robbery: Satan entered the garden of E d e n as a w o l f leaps into a s h e e p f o l d Or as a Thief bent to unhoord the cash Of some rich Burgher, whose substantial dores, Cross-barrd and bolted fast, fear no assault, In at the window climbs, or o're the tiles; 2 4 (P.L., II, 113) a meal in a tavern, [In England the] Priest scruples not to paw, and mammock [break] the sacramentali bread, as familiarly as his Tavern Bisket; (Ref., I I I , 19) the Smithfield market : [When the minister is preaching] his sheep oft-times sit the while to as little purpose of benefiting as the sheep in thir pues at Smithfield; and . . . by som Simonie or other, bought and sold like them ; (Hirelings, VI, 76) T h e s e are the ordinary incidents and places connected with the daily routine, the kind of unconsidered details that always seem the inevitable accompaniment of living. M i l ton would have been surprised at our thinking t h e m picturesque. T h e r e are also special occasions and ceremonies, things which impressed him by their comparative rarity, but 24
T h e image originates in John 1 0 : 1 : " V e r i l y , v e r i l y , I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other w a y , the same is a thief and a robber." H o w e v e r , Milton g i v e s the passage a specific, contemporary setting. T h e same image, in less elaborate form, appears earlier : " W h a t they are f o r Ministers, or how they crept into the fould, whether Peace, at the window, or through the wall . . . w e e know not" ( A r t i c l e s of V I , 2 7 0 ) . Another image is almost equally v i v i d , although the picture is not specifically seventeenth century: "it w a s well knowne w h a t a bolde lurker schisme w a s even in the houshold of C h r i s t " ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 0 ) .
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w h i c h t o us h a r d l y seem m o r e r e m o t e than the o t h e r s : the noise m a d e by the city w a t c h m e n and the church bells w a r n ing o f a sudden e m e r g e n c y : [ I n the writings of the Church Fathers] the crosse-jingling periods . . . [ a r e ] worse then the din of bells, and rattles; {Ref., I I I , 3 4 ) a tableau or p a g e a n t p r o c e e d i n g t h r o u g h the streets with a r m e d men to clear the w a y : Remonst. Hitherto they have flourish't, now I hope they will strike. Ans . . . now he is at the Pageants 2 5 among the Whifflers ; (AnimIll,
138)
the retainers of s o m e noble o r of the K i n g , v i e w e d f r o m M i l t o n ' s late, anti-royalist point of v i e w : [ A d a m ] walks forth, without more train Accompani'd then with his own compleat Perfections, in himself was all his state, M o r e solemn then the tedious pomp that waits O n Princes, when thir rich Retinue long Of Horses led, and Grooms besmeard with G o l d Dazles the croud, and sets them all agape; ( P . L . , I I , 1 5 6 ) and possibly the g r o t e s q u e i m a g e s in a L o r d M a y o r ' s p r o cession
26
and the e l a b o r a t e festivities of a coronation :
27
[ T h a t the English hold from the K i n g ] the right of our common safety . . . by meer gift, as when the Conduit pisses W i n e at Coronations, from the superfluity of thir royal grace . . . was never the intent of God. (Eikon., V , 20 2-203) T h e s e images a r e individually f r e s h and successful and rev e a l M i l t o n as responsive to his environment, but responsive 25
The New English Dictionary quotes this use of the word as illustrative of the medieval mystery play, but in the context of the complete passage the reference seems unmistakably contemporary. 2e The giants Gog and Magog. See Chapter 6, note 145. 27 Charles I was crowned on February 2, 1625/6, but contemporary accounts suggest that there was no public display. See R. F. Williams, Court and Times of Charles the First (London, 1848), I, 72, 77, 79. The letter of D'Ewes which is referred to here is concerned only with the proceedings in Westminster Abbey. See J . O. Halliwell, The Autobiography and Correspondence of Sir S. D'Evies (London, 1849), II, 173.
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only as any alert and sensitive man might be. 28 A s a group they do not show an individual reaction. T h e r e are, however, certain phases of city life to which Milton reacted in a highly characteristic way. T h e first distinctive element in this reaction is his opinion of peddlers and hucksters, of itinerant hawkers and quack doctors, and of buffoons and jugglers. Milton is full of scorn f o r these tricksters who deceive the ignorant mob. T h e wares of the peddlers and hucksters are at best contemptible and at worst fraudulent: a rhapsodist, in contrast to a true poet, is a peddler of verse; commutings of penance are the deceitful peddleries of the bishops; the printer Vlaccus, in issuing Milton's pamphlet together with M o r e ' s answer, r e s o r t e d t o this t r u l y h u c k s t e r - l i k e c o m b i n a t i o n , m i x i n g the v i c i o u s a n d t h e v i l e w i t h t h e v e n d i b l e ; ( D e f . of Him.,
I X , 49)
H a w k e r s and quack doctors have developed the art of highpressure salesmanship; M o r u s , in canvassing f o r f a v o r , has surpassed them in this, and t o c o m p l e t e y o u r c h a r a c t e r of a h a w k i n g q u a c k a n d b r a g g i n g m o u n t e b a n k , it w a s o n l y w a n t i n g t h a t y o u s h o u l d set y o u r s e l f t o s a l e w i t h bep r a i s i n g s a n d t e s t i m o n i a l s . . . w i t h a d i s p l a y besides of t h e f a i t h ; {Def.
of Him.,
IX,
public
53)
they practice solely by the trial and error method, traveling about to collect as much money as possible : [ I n t h e o l d e n t i m e s a b i s h o p , w i t h n o fixed diocese, l i v e d s i m p l y ]
Did
h e g o e a b o u t t o p i t c h d o w n his C o u r t , as an E m p i r i c k does his b a n c k , t o i n v e i g l e in a l l the m o n y of t h e C o u n t r y ? (Ref., ;8
III,
15-16)
T w o aspects of seventeenth century London life are unaccountably absent: the traffic of the street with its congestion of horses and its d a n g e r of footpads (this is alluded to in the non-figurative "sons of B e l i a l " passage in Paradise Lost, I, 26), and the traffic of the T h a m e s . It seems remarkable that, in all Milton's castigation of the bishops, he never hit upon the simile of a boatman, as did Robert G r e v i l l e , L o r d B r o o k e : "Ministers (like W a t e r men) h a v e looked one w a y and row'd another," ( A Diicourie Opening . . . Epitcopaiie, 1 6 4 1 , p. 50) and Burton, who applied the same image to the hypocrisy of the Jesuits ( T h e Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. A . R. Shilleto (London, 1 9 1 2 , I, 5 7 ) . Nor does Milton mention the traffic of the country h i g h w a y s (see Chapter 2 ) .
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they arc c o m m o n l y f o u n d at country fairs, w h e r e ,
among
the c r o w d s o f g a p i n g peasants, business w o u l d naturally be good: [Salmasius] Like some itinerant hawker . . . touting from fair to fair, you in your preface kept raising great expectations of next day's performance . . . that you might peddle out to as many readers as possible those your wretched bottlefuls of rhetoric-paint and fustian dye. (First
Dt{.,
VII,
43)
T h e s e c r o w d s are also entertained by the p e r f o r m a n c e s of the o u t d o o r v a u d e v i l l e a r t i s t s ; M i l t o n h a s seen such things, poss i b l y in E u r o p e a s w e l l a s in E n g l a n d : [Salmasius] Y o u take the voice of the beggarly refugees for the voice of the people; and like a foreign mountebank to the crowd, imitate the voices only of the vilest of animals; {Sec. Def., V I I I , 1 7 7 ) [ T h e bishops call their opponents sectaries, schismatics, etc.] the people of England will not suffer themselves to be juggl'd thus out of their faith and religion by a mist of names cast before their eyes ; (R. Ch. Gov., Ill, 217) Re. T h u s their cavills concerning Liturgy are vanish't Answ. Y o u wanted but Hey-passe to have made your transition like a mysticall man of Sturbridge.2* But for all your sleight of hand our just exceptions . . . are not vanisht. ( A n i m . , I l l , 134) T h i s scorn springs f r o m his h a t r e d o f s h a m and p r e t e n s e , 3 0 a f e e l i n g so deeply ingrained t h a t he even r e g r e t t e d t h a t his eyes g a v e n o indication o f his blindness : In this respect only am I a dissembler ; and here, it is against my will. (Sec. Def., V I I I , 6 1 ) T h i s same trait underlies another equally unusual of
images,
which
should,
therefore,
be
considered
group here.
2 * A n a n n u a l f a i r near C a m b r i d g e . M i l t o n also has one r e f e r e n c e to the " F r a n k f o r t f a i r " (Def. of Him., I X , H 7 ) . 3 0 It is true that I t a l i a n mountebanks w e r e the t r a d i t i o n a l objects of the playw r i g h t s ' satire (see, f o r example, Jonson, Volpone, I I , i i ) . H o w e v e r , M i l t o n ' s r e f e r e n c e s a r e specific—the j u g g l e r of the S t u r b r i d g e F a i r — a n d seem best accounted f o r as a direct reaction to experience. T h e y should be considered with r e f e r e n c e to the next t w o g r o u p s of i m a g e s f o l l o w i n g : bright substances and small shopkeepers.
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These der
a
are
concerned
superficially
with
bright
six i m a g e s o f v a r n i s h
or
substances and
which
attractive
conceal
surface.
evil
un-
T h e r e
are
gloss:
[ A h y p o c r i t e is a l w a y s t r y i n g ] t o m a k e h i s i n s a t i a t e a v a r i c e , &
ambition
seem pious, and o r t h o d o x a l l by p a i n t i n g his l e w d and d e c e i t f u l l
prin-
ciples w i t h a s m o o t h , a n d g l o s s y v a r n i s h in a d o c t r i n a l l w a y
bring
a b o u t his w i c k e d e s t p u r p o s e s ; ( A n i m . , I l l , O n e
of
these
pageant
or
the third Verse Bishop
refers
to
carnival,
a mask
but
or
always
163)
visor,
In
doubtless
suggestive
of
addition, and
he
speaks
the K i n g
washes over with
a
of
prelacy
false-whited
glosse ; b u t
(Anim.,
as b l a n c h i n g resemblance
her of
Ill,
deformithe
[dye,
paint]
the w o r s t
. . .
without
intellectual elements
31
the
true
of
( D o c t . Dil·.,
Ill,
brutish
423)
like.32
M i l t o n t a k e s the p h r a s e " B u r d e a u x g l o s s e , " o r i g i n a t i n g in a p u n ,
Hall's A
his
as
b u t a certain f o r m a l i t y ; or g u i l d i n g o v e r of little better t h e n a
and
152)
72)
a marriage
congresse;
a
w h o
a Court-fucus
actions; (Eikon., V , and of
in
. . . w i l l be such a glosse to p r o v e the c o n s t i t u t i o n of a
presenting
gospel; of
worn
deceit:
b y , a s w o u l d n o t o n e l y b e n o t s o g o o d a s a Burdeaux
s c a r s e b e r e c e i v ' d t o v a r n i s h a V i s a r d o f Modona.31
ties
to
Defence
of the
Humble
from
Remonstrance:
" y e . . . a n s w e r If this flösse corrupt not the text, T
Conceivably Milton w a s thinking of running the gauntlet. E l s e w h e r e : clamor, prate, laugh to scorn, blurt, prattle, whisper, sob out, groan, ejaculate (bolt), beseech. ·» Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 7 1 - 7 3 . 88
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T h e contrast between M i l t o n and his contemporaries is even sharper in the case of images of the head and face, not because M i l t o n is unusually subtle but because of the almost total absence of such images elsewhere. M i l t o n speaks of looking aversely, looking with pity, and looking wan, of relaxing a f r o w n , and the like, 1 0 0 but only once is he really vivid : Sometimes 5 Imprimaturs are seen together dialogue-wise in the Piatza of one T i t l e page, complementing and ducking each to other with their shav'n reverences, whether the A u t h o r , who stands by in perplexity at the foot of his Epistle, shall to the Presse or to the spunge. (Areo., I V , 304)
H e has nothing approaching the range of Shakespeare's figures that show " t h e play of emotions in the human f a c e , " 1 0 1 as revealed by " t h e color quickly coming and goi n g . " 102 T h i s he notes only once : piety and justice . . . stoop not, neither change colour for Aristocracy. {Ref., 1 1 1 , 6 9 )
A l t h o u g h he r e f e r s to blindness many times, both b e f o r e and a f t e r he lost his sight, he does so always in the general sense of mental or spiritual blindness. In like manner, he equates eyes with u n d e r s t a n d i n g : 1 0 3 Athens is the eye of G r e e c e ; A d a m and E v e , a f t e r eating the apple, have their eyes opened. H e has a f e w , rather conventional, descriptive a d j e c t i v e s : quick-sighted watchfulness and zeal, meek-eyed peace, pure-eyed f a i t h ; squint suspicion, one-eyed and dimsighted e r r o r . T h e r e are no distinctive, revealing physical details. O t h e r images of the body and its p a r t s — b l o o d , sinews, 1 0 4 100 w i n k , ahut or c a s t one's eyes, look u p , w a t c h o v e r or f o r , nod, g l a n c e , e x h a l e , snore, p u f f , inflate o n e ' s cheek, spit, smile, bite, kiss. S p u r g e o n , op. cit., p. 52. 102 Ibid., p. 58. 1 0 3 E x c e p t f o r the c o n v e n t i o n a l use of t h e sun as the eye of the w o r l d , the s t a r s a s the e y e s of h e a v e n , a n d the like. 1 0 4 A l s o : n e r v e s , joints, l i g a m e n t s , marrow. 101
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105
43
need not detain us; one example
will
s e r v e f o r t h e m all : For as in a body, when the blood is fresh, the spirits pure and vigorous, not only to vital, but to rationall faculties . . . it argues in w h a t good plight and constitution the body is, so when the cherfulnesse of the people is so sprightly up . . . it betok'ns us not degenerated, nor drooping to a fatali decay, but casting off the old and wrincl'd skin of corruption to outlive these pangs and w a x young again. 108 {Areo., I V , 344) In only one p a r t i c u l a r — t h e
action, nature, and
appear-
ance of h a n d s — i s M i l t o n m a r k e d l y conscious of the b o d y . 1 0 7 O f course, a large number of the images that h a v e just been c o n s i d e r e d i n v o l v e t h e use o f h a n d s , a s d o a n o t h e r
group
peculiar to M i l t o n : W i s e men have taught the art of treme
ex-
rebuke
resembling it, as when wee bend a crooked wand the contrary w a y ; not that it should stand so bent, but that the overbending might reduce it to a straightnesse by its own reluctance; {Tetra., I V , 1 7 4 ) [Christ checked the rabbis] by a countersway of restraint curbing their wild exorbitance almost into the other extreme ; as when w e bow things the contrary way, to make them come to their naturall straitnesse. 108 (Doct.
Div.,
Ill,
430)
M a n y times, h o w e v e r , he concentrates attention not on the m o t i o n b u t o n t h e h a n d s t h a t m a k e it : 1 0 9 Doubt not . . . Senators . . . to reach out your steddy hands to the . . . wearied life of man ; (Doct. Div., I l l , 3 7 6 ) to write a decree in allowance of sin, as soon can the hand of Justice r o t o f f . {Doct.
Div.,
Ill,
474)
T h e i r g r a s p is firm o r r e l a x e d . W e c a n t r u s t d i v i n e l a w : 1 0 : 1 T h e r e a r e 110 sexual i m a g e s of a n y sort e x c e p t one d i s t i n g u i s h i n g l a w f u l intercourse f r o m f o r n i c a t i o n . See C h a p t e r 2, in the i m a g e s c o n c e r n i n g d i v o r c e . 1 0 0 T h e simile of the e a g l e " m u i n g " h e r youth f o l l o w s a f e w lines l a t e r . 1 0 7 F o r f i g u r e s of c o o k i n g and of f o o d , i m p l i c i t l y t h o u g h not e x p l i c i t l y r e l a t e d to the processes of digestion, see C h a p t e r 2. ios A l s o : w r e a t h e , w i n d , m a k e supple, m a k e p l i a b l e . 1 0 8 C o m p a r e the motion of the h a n d in o r a t o r y , a b o v e , " a s w h e n of old some O r a t o r r e n o u n d , " etc.
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the uncorrupt and majestick L a w of God, bearing in her hand the wages of life and death; ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 4 7 1 )
but human law is a w e a k e r thing: [ T h e Roman Censor was concerned with] such the most covert and spiritous vices as would slip easily between the wider and more material grasp of L a w . ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 5 0 - 2 5 1 )
T h e hands differ in their skill : [ I n writing prose] I have the use, as I may account it, but of my left hand; ( R . Ch. Gov., Ill, 235) Kings most commonly, though strong in Legions, are but weak at A r g u ments; as they who ever have accustom'd from the Cradle to use thir will onely as thir right hand, thir reason alwayes as thir left. (.EikonV,
63)
T h e y differ also in their essential nature. M i l t o n distinguishes, conventionally it is true in some instances, between the high hand of sin, the w e a k hand of magistracy, the equal and impartial hand of justice, the ready hands of w a t c h f u l ness and zeal, the craving hands of cheaters which are never satisfied, the heavy hands of the K i n g , the light p a l m of a bishop ready to ordain anyone who pays the p r o p e r f e e , and G o d ' s wonder-working hand. F i n a l l y , they differ in a p p e a r a n c e : the hands of an epic poet must be stainless, those of charity i m m a c u l a t e ; the clutch of ignorance is g r e a s y ; hope is white-handed, but vengeance, as Belial well remembers, is stained with the blood of b a t t l e — w o u l d not, he asks, our condition be worse Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us? 1 1 0 ( P . L . , II, 4 4 )
T h e explanation of this sensitivity is not altogether clear. M i l t o n was indifferent to sports 1 1 1 and to the use of t o o l s , n both of which demand dexterity. H e does not speak of painting or sculpture f r o m the point of view of the artist's shaping hand. A s an organist, he would be conscious r a t h e r of 110 112
An echo of Horace, Odts, See above.
I, 2.
111
See above.
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his individual fingers than of his hands, which he would not watch while playing. Perhaps the answer is to be found in his considerable interest in oratory, 1 1 3 involving as this art does the conspicuous use of gesture. 1 1 4 T h i s interest, however, is related not to London but to Cambridge, not to the citizen but to the student, who thought of oratory as one of the steps in the preparation for a life of significant achievement. It was to this sort of life that Milton devoted his energies. Like other men of his social station and religious persuasion, he was high-principled and sober, turning against the tyrannical power of monarchy and the excesses of aristocratic ostentation. H e found no time f o r sports and the other relaxations and frivolities of frailer beings, possibly not so much because such things were immoral as because they were trivial. Although accepting business and commerce in theory, he shrank f r o m the actual mores of the market place and in particular f r o m the spiritually contaminating trickery of those who preyed on the gullible public, just as physically he recoiled f r o m the pollution of the rags and dirt of the beggars. H e did not, however, allow his moral strictness to interfere with his aesthetic response to life. In so doing, he showed himself not the extreme onesurfaced Puritan but rather the many-faceted product of the English Renaissance. H e was an artist in the high tradition of Sidney and Spenser, a man who shut out the importunities oí questionable business and worthless enjoyment, but who opened himself to the ennobling influences of the arts. H e was a man who, while sensitive to beauty, always kept this sensuousness subservient to the moral purpose to which he had dedicated his life. 113
See a b o v e , a n d also C h a p t e r 6, C i c e r o . It is possible t h a t he m a y h a v e been i m p r e s s e d by t h e g e s t u r e s of t h e e x a g g e r a t e d a c t i n g of his d a y , but t h e r e is no evidence of this. 114
CHAPTER
2
London Private Life
I
N the p r e c e d i n g c h a p t e r w e w e r e concerned with w h a t m i g h t be called the public aspects o f M i l t o n ' s l i f e as a citizen of L o n d o n : with his attitude t o w a r d his f e l l o w citizens and t o w a r d g o v e r n m e n t , business, a r t , and the like. W e must n o w consider the p r i v a t e side of his l i f e , the side he exhibits as a h o u s e h o l d e r and a f a m i l y m a n . In r e g a r d to the b a c k g r o u n d of this l i f e , the house i t s e l f , the picture that e m e r g e s is f a i r l y extensive and clear-cut. I t is true that m a n y i m a g e s r e f e r to details of structure and f u r n i t u r e common to almost any house of the t i m e ; 1 yet certain m o r e distinctive figures indicate that M i l t o n t h o u g h t in terms o f a well-to-do, middle class h o m e . 2 T h e w a l l s w e r e hung with t a p e s t r y : [It is bad for Parliament by the King's veto] to be struck as mute and motionless as a Parlament of Tapstrie in the Hangings; {Eikon., V, 288) there w e r e t r a v e r s e s — g a l l e r i e s or, in this case, screens o r partitions—of elaborate w o o d w o r k : [The church has degenerated from the Apostles] in point of Episcopacy, and precedency, things which could affor'd such plausible pretenses, such commodious traverses for ambition, and Avarice to lurke behind ; (.Prélat. Epis., I I I , 98) 1 P o r c h , p a r t i t i o n , closet ( s m a l l r o o m ) ; c o f f e r , chest, c a s k e t ; couch, b o l s t e r ; footstool, bench, c h a i r ; m i r r o r , v i a l ; h i n g e , key, lock. A l s o : open, shut, look in, stand at a d o o r ; l a y at one's d o o r . 2 H e uses one r e m a r k a b l e m e t a p h o r of a p a r j e t o r y , a w a l l - f a c i n g of p l a s t e r w i t h o r n a m e n t a l d e s i g n s : [ H a l l ' s book, Mundus Alter & Uem, is] " a meer t a n k a r d d r o l l e r y , a v e n e r e o u s p a r j e t o r y f o r a s t e w e s " (Apol., I I I , 2 9 5 ) . H e is here s u r e l y s p e a k i n g f r o m h e a r s a y , but a p a r j e t o r y , o r p a r g e t , w a s c o m m o n in the type of house he w a s f a m i l i a r w i t h .
London Private Life
47
T h e rooms were provided with massive, carved furniture: [ K i n g C h a r l e s complained of being deprived of his chaplains during his captivity, but chaplains, unmentioned by Scripture, are of no import a n c e ] W h e r f o r e should the P a r l a m e n t then take such implements of the C o u r t C u p b o r d into thir consideration. ( E i k o n . , V , 2 5 9 ) [ S a l m a s i u s keeps using a certain figure of speech] C o m e all ye orators and schoolmasters . . . commit to your . . . cabinets this rhetorical cosmetic of this most eloquent man, lest it perish. ( F i r s t Def., V I I , 3 4 3 ) F o r a m o d e r n m a n , it is i n t e r e s t i n g t o n o t e t h a t e v e n in s u c h a h o m e t h e floor w a s s t r e w n w i t h r u s h e s : [ M a r r i a g e is a ] gracious, and certainly not inexorable, not rushlesse and flinty ordinance; ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 4 7 8 ) t h a t t h e q u a l i t y o f g l a s s in t h e w i n d o w s w a s p o o r : [ R e m o n s t r a n t boasts that he sees truth c l e a r l y ] N o t as through the dim glasse of his affections which in this f r a i l mansion of flesh are v e r y 8 unequally t e m p e r ' d ; {Apol., III, 322-323) that lamps needed attention :
4
T h e L a m p s that burnt before him [ G o d ] might need snuffing, but the light of his L a w never ; (Doct. Div., I l l , 4 4 0 ) [ K i n g C h a r l e s o u g h t ] not to w a l k by another mans L a m p , but to get O y l e into his o w n ; (Eikon., V , 2 6 3 ) and that candles are feeble: H o w should then the dim T a p e r of this E m p e r o u r s age [ C o n s t a n t i n e ] that had such need of snuffing, extend any bearne to our T i m e s ; (Ref.,
Yet
the
inconvenience
mestic life, although
involved
glaringly
in t h e s e
apparent
details
III, 24)
of
t o u s , is s o
dolittle
s t r e s s e d t h a t M i l t o n s e e m s n o t t o h a v e b e e n a w a r e o f it a t all. N o r does he mention the d i s c o m f o r t of a s m o k y o r b a d l y b u r n i n g fire, a s d o e s S h a k e s p e a r e . 5 H e d o e s , h o w e v e r , 3
have
Columbia edition reads " e v e r y . " Most of his lamp figures are applied to the sun or stars. Shakespeare also mentions the various inconveniences of a lamp or candle (Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 112-IJ4). 4
6
48
London Private Life
numerous and v a r i e d figures of other aspects of a fire,6 o r of the activities connected with it, such as r a k i n g out the embers, b l o w i n g the coals, kindling it with a flint : [ E v e n though w e should be exempt f r o m external h a r m ] w e should never lin [cease] hammering out of our o w n e hearts, as it w e r e out of a flint, the seeds and sparkles of n e w misery to our selves, till all w e r e in a blaze againe, ( D o c t . Div.,
Ill, 381 )
or using it as a source of additional light : 7 IVicklefs
preaching, at w h i c h all the succeding Reformers
ally lighted their Tapers,
more effectu-
w a s to his C o u n t r e y m e n but a short blaze
soone dampt and stifl'd by the Pope;
(Ref.,
III, 5)
others are based on its a p p e a r a n c e : the g l o w i n g embers, the burned out ashes, the renewed flame, its u p w a r d climbing, [ T h e Apostles h a d ] unquenchable charity, w h i c h . . . like a w o r k i n g flame, had spun up to such a height of pure desire, ( Anirn.,
Ill, 156)
and its fluctuating l i f e : [ G o d ' s ] legall justice cannot be so fickle and so variable, sometimes like a devouring fire, and by and by connivent [ d o r m a n t ] in the embers. (Doct.
Div.,
Ill, 440)
I t is to be o b s e r v e d that, even in this last g r o u p of images, an aesthetic response to fire is not explicit, p e r h a p s not even implicit. M i l t o n does not sit in silence and enjoy " t h e flapping of the flame," as does W o r d s w o r t h , o r notice with delight its resemblance to a s t a g ' s antlers, as does K a t h e r i n e M a n s f i e l d , o r recall " t h e beauty of fire f r o m the beauty of e m b e r s , " as does M a s e f i e l d . N e v e r t h e l e s s , he is keenly a w a r e of a fire, obviously because of its crucial importance in daily living. 8
M a n y involve only generalized i d e a s : to burn, blaze, flame, glow, be on fire, add fuel to the flame, inflame, kindle, quench, and extinguish. 7 Out of doors, a fire may be a beacon. Once, a lamp is a beacon: [England i s ] "holding up, as from a Hill, the new Lampe of laving Light to all Christendome" (Ref., I I I , 5). T h i s seems to be a combination of Psalms 67: 1 - 2 , " G o d . . . cause his face to shine upon us. . . . T h a t thy w a y may be known upon earth, thy saving health among all nations"; and Matthew 5 : 1 4 , " Y e are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid."
London Private Life
49
So much f o r the house itself. Of the various activities carried on within it, doubtless cooking is the most important. About this Milton has more to say than we might have expected. With the kitchen itself he has little to do. 8 H e makes several contemptuous references to the menial w o r k of scouring,® presumably pots and pans. 1 0 H e protests being "put to this under-work of scowring . . . the low and sordid ignorance [of his o p p o n e n t ] " (Colasi., IV, 2 7 1 ) . Otherwise, he makes no mention of any kitchen article or activity. H e is, however, familiar with the ordinary details of cooking—sweetening, seasoning, straining, roasting, the dropping of juice into the dripping pan, dressing, and the boiling over of water—although his references are perfunctory. Others, however, are sharply visual. T h e contents of a pot are likely to scorch : [Milton's opponent] enters into such a tedious and drawling tale of burning, and burning, and lust and burning, that the dull argument it self burnes to, for want of stirring; (Colasi., I V , 254)
and when set to cool will congeal and skim :
11
our Ministers . . . no sooner advanc't to [Episcopacy] . . . but like a seething pot set to coole, sensibly exhale and realce out the greatest part of that zeale . . . settling in a skinny congealment of ease and sloth at the top: and . . . their devotion most commonly comes to that queazy temper of luke-warmnesse, that gives a Vomit to G O D himselfe; (Ref., I I I , 1 1 - 1 2 )
the scum is removed with a ladle : 8 A g a i n he d i f f e r s f r o m Shakespeare, whose picture centers in the kitchen. Spurgeon, op. cit., p. 1 1 2 . 8 Once, where G o d does the scouring, the reference is not contemptuous. 10 Milton is not contemptuous of the polishing of armor. See Chapter 3, note 22. 11 A somewhat similar image is f o u n d in Comus (I, 1 0 7 ) : But evil on it self shall back recoyl, A n d mix no more with goodness, when at last G a t h e r ' d like scum, and setl'd to it self It shall be [self-consumed]. T h i s may, however, r e f e r to the dross on liquid metal, or to the standing w a t e r of a pond.
London Private Life 50 Remoti. T h a t scum may be worth taking off which
followes. Ans. Spare your Ladle Sir, it will be as bad as the Bishops foot in the broth; the scum will be found upon your own
Remonstrance. (Anim., Ill, 114)
T h e Bishop's f o o t , a p r o v e r b i a l expression to which M i l t o n was unfortunately attracted, he twice elsewhere elaborated with w h a t he must h a v e r e g a r d e d as effective humor. Since, h o w e v e r , he w a s obviously mistaken in this opinion, we need not pursue the subject f u r t h e r . M u c h more successful are his references to another p r o v e r b : [the book] is so spoyld, as a good song is spoyld by a lewd singer, or as the saying is, God sends meat, but the Cooks worke their wills ;
(Anim., Ill, 176)
and to a Biblical passage 1 2 used to illustrate both bad cooking and bad f o o d on which good cooking is wasted : [ G o d has given man a helpmeet] it is mans pervers cooking who hath turn'd this bounty of G o d into a Scorpion ; ( I V , 84)
Tetra.,
[ T h e martyrs may have refined the liturgy b u t ] they could not refine a Scorpion into a Fish, though they had drawn it, and rinc't it with never so cleanly Cookery. I l l , 120)
{Anim.,
It is noticeable that these images are unpleasant, involving accidents that spoil f o o d , the unaesthetic appearance and taste of half-cooled liquid, and unsuccessful cooking. M i l ton's sharpest impressions seem to be disagreeable r a t h e r than agreeable. T h e r e are clear indications that he has the same attitude t o w a r d f o o d a f t e r it has a r r i v e d in the dining room. H e shows his dislike of too much v i n e g a r or mustard, of flavorless dough : [ H a l l ] demeanes himselfe in the dull expression so like a dough kneaded thing, that he has not spirit anough left him . . . to avoide nonsense; III, 324)
(Apoi.,
of a bad e g g : 12
Luke it : 1 1 - 1 2 .
London Private Life
5 i
M o r e [ i s ] this addle and windy egg, from which burst forth that tympany—the Cry of the Royal Blood. T h i s was thought at first a most delicious sup for our hungry royalists in B e l g i u m ; but now the shell is broken, they turn with loathing from the rotten and offensive contents; (Sec. Def., V I I I , 3 7 ) of the a t t e m p t to k e e p f o o d f r o m s p o i l i n g :
13
a Divine of note . . . [had revised the pamphlet of Milton's opponent a n d ] stuck it heer and there with a clove of his own Calligraphy, to keep it from tainting; (Colasi., I V , 2 3 8 ) o f t h e u n p l e a s a n t r e s u l t s of h o a r d i n g m e a t o r w i n e t o o l o n g : [it is w r o n g that] all benefit and use of Scripture, as to public prayer, should be deny'd us, except what was barreld up in a Common-praier Book with many mixtures of thir own, and which is worse, without salt. But suppose them savoury words and unmix'd, suppose them Manna it self, yet if they shall be hoarded up and enjoyned us, while G o d every morning raines down new expressions unto our hearts, in stead of being fit to use, they will be found like reserv'd Manna rather to breed wormes and stink. (Eikon., V , 2 2 1 - 2 2 2 ) A t last, and in good howr we are com to his farewell, which is to bee a concluding taste of his jabberment at in L a w , the flashiest and the fustiest that ever corrupted in such an unswill'd hogshead. (Colasi., I V , 2 6 9 ) M i l t o n g i v e s us, then, a c l e a r conception of w h a t he d o e s n o t l i k e , b u t h e is n o t s o d e f i n i t e a b o u t w h a t h e d o e s l i k e . 1 4
His
s o n n e t t o L a w r e n c e , in w h i c h h e a s k s W h a t neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, O f Attick tast, with W i n e ? d e m o n s t r a t e s his f a s t i d i o u s n e s s but d o e s n o t s p e c i f y
indi-
v i d u a l d i s h e s . O n o n e o c c a s i o n w h e n he is s p e c i f i c , h e is t a l k ing not of a special celebration but of o r d i n a r y m e a l s : [Remonstrant has argued that a prescribed order for the various parts of the church service necessitates a fixed form of prayers] Nothing w i l l 13 T h e m e t a p h o r is p e r h a p s not d i s a g r e e a b l e in i t s e l f , but the context m a k e s c l e a r t h a t M i l t o n thinks the attempt h a s f a i l e d . 14 F o r his d i s l i k e of tough a n d u n n u t r i t i o u s f o o d in t e r m s of t h o r n s a n d t h i s t l e s ; see C h a p t e r 4., in the i m a g e s of g a r d e n i n g , a n d C h a p t e r 5, in the i m a g e s of C a m b r i d g e .
52
London Private Life
cure this mans understanding, but some familiar, and Kitchin phisick . . . C a l l hither your Cook. T h e order of Breakfast, Dinner, and Supper, answere me, is it set or no? Set. Is a man therefore bound in the morning to potcht eggs, and vinegar, or at noon to Brawn, or Beefe, or at night to fresh Sammon, and French Kickshoes? may he not make his meales in order, though he be not bound to this, or that viand ?
(Anim., Ill, 123)
In other passages, h o w e v e r , he speaks merely of hors d'oeuvres preceding a feast, of broth f o l l o w e d by " g o o d l y flanks and briskets in . . . stately c h a r g e r s , " of a generous wine that overstimulates, and the like. M o s t o f his allusions, w h e t h e r pleasant or unpleasant, are even m o r e b r o a d than these, involving merely the acts o f eating and drinking, and f o o d and drink in g e n e r a l — sweet or sour, h a v i n g relish or savor, and so on. 1 5 Usually when he is specific, he is bookish. O n e Biblical allusion has already been cited,1® and he has many others : leaven, manna, the "sincere m i l k " of the G o s p e l , 1 7 and meats offered to idols: 18 [ K i n g Charles, by including in his prayer a quotation from Sidney, thought G o d ] fitt to be . . . worshipt . . . with the polluted orts and refuse of Arcadia's; (EikortV, 87) [Since the text of Ignatius is corrupt] w e doe injuriously in thinking to tast better the pure Evangelick M a n n a by seasoning our mouths with the tainted scraps, and fragments of an unknown table. ( Prelat. £ ¿ « . , 1 1 1 , 9 1 )
A large number of images both in L a t i n and English turn upon the use of the w o r d salt in the sense of w i t , 1 9 and f o u r 1 5 T h e y a r e , h o w e v e r , n u m e r o u s and v a r i e d : to f e a s t , f e e d , d r i n k , w e t the lips, b r o a c h , s w a l l o w , d e v o u r , c h e w , nibble, taste, suck, g a p e , d i g e s t , nourish, s n a p at, store u p , p r o v i s i o n , s t a r v e , dish out, cut up, flavor; a f e a s t , f a m i n e , f o o d , m o r s e l , m a m m o c k , d r a f f , lees, d r e g s , u n c h e w e d , t h i r s t y , f a m i s h e d , u n sated, s t u f f e d , stale, tasteless. 1 β See a b o v e , note 12. 1 7 I Peter 2:2. 1 8 R o m a n s , 1 4 : 1 4 ; I C o r i n t h i a n s 8. 1 8 T h e B i b l i c a l m e a n i n g is not f a r f r o m t h i s : " L e t y o u r speech be alway w i t h g r a c e , s e a s o n e d w i t h salt, t h a t y e m a y k n o w h o w y e o u g h t to a n s w e r e v e r y m a n . " C o l o s s i a n s 4 : 6.
London Private Life
53
refer to a phrase of Juvenal, 2 0 "repetita crambe," warmed over cabbage : C a n w e not understand an order in C h u r c h assemblies of praying, reading, expounding, administring, unlesse our praiers be still the same C r a m b e of w o r d s ? ( A n i m . , I l l , 1 2 4 )
Finally, there is the long passage in Prolusion VI, in which the Cambridge u n d e r g r a d u a t e s are compared to the various dishes of a b a n q u e t : boars, oxen, calves' heads, kids, greenf e a t h e r e d birds, a snipe, 21 cranes, geese, eggs, apples, and medlars : in the first course fifty f a t t e d boars, soaked f o r three years in pickled beer . . . birds . . . fattened a long w h i l e w i t h balls of paste, w i t h pellets, and w i t h powdered cheese . . . you should dine sparingly on these, because . . . they also push out the m a n g e in the diners, provided the g o u r m a n d tells the truth. . . . S o m e Irish birds f o l l o w this . . . v e r y like cranes . . . I w a r n you to abstain f r o m these, f o r they are v e r y effective (provided the g o u r m a n d tells the t r u t h ) in the generation of inguinal lice. ( X I I , 2 3 5 - 2 3 7 )
It is evident that these details are derived f r o m some literary source, presumably Latin, but the gourmand is as yet unidentified. 22 Milton, then, was not an epicure, accustomed to the refinements of the table, but r a t h e r a man appreciative of occasional delicacies, and sensitive to the poor food that he was all too likely to encounter.2·"· N e x t to cooking, medicine, in the seventeenth century, was probably the most important concern of the household. It was then f a r more of a family affair than it is today. Remedies were o f t e n homegrown and homemade, so much so that H e r b e r t in A Priest to the Temple feels that a parson should be "not only a pastor, but a lawyer also and a physi20
Satire VU, 154. Tillyard translates "gallinago" as "a turkey." Milton Correspondence & Academic Exercises, p. 97. 22 Once, the source is a proverb: [The doctrine that bishops are necessary to the King is] "lettice for their lips" {Ref., III, 40). The proverb is "Like lip* like lettuce," in the sense of "Like has met its like." 2S M a n y such occurrences are recorded in Pepys' Diary. 21
London Private Life
54
c i a n . " 24 B o t h he and his w i f e , t h e r e f o r e , should h a v e a k n o w l e d g e of herbs, because " h o m e b r e d medicines are b o t h m o r e easy f o r the p a r s o n ' s purse and m o r e f a m i l i a r f o r all men's bodies. So, w h e r e the a p o t h e c a r y useth either f o r loosening, rhubarb, o r f o r binding, b o l e a r m e n a , the parson useth d a m a s k o r w h i t e roses f o r the one and plantain, sheph e r d ' s purse, k n o t - g r a s s f o r the other, and that w i t h better success. A c c o r d i n g l y , f o r salves his w i f e seeks n o t the city but p r e f e r s her g a r d e n and fields b e f o r e all outlandish gums. A n d surely hyssop, v a l e r i a n , m e r c u r y , a d d e r ' s tongue, yarr o w , m e l i t o t , and Saint J o h n ' s w o r t m a d e into a salve, and elder, c a m o m i l e , m a l l o w s , c a m p h o r , and s m a l l a g e m a d e into a poultice h a v e done g r e a t and r a r e c u r e s . " 25 M o r e o v e r , in addition to such a m a t e u r p r a c t i t i o n e r s , the p r o f e s s i o n a l himself m a d e use of herbs to some extent, as w e m a y learn f r o m a non-figurative p a s s a g e in the Damon's Epitaph:20 Y o u will run through, for me, your healing potions, your herbs, the hellebore, and the lowly crocus, and the leaf of the hyacinth, all the herbs that yonder marsh possesses, and the arts, too, of the healers,
(1,3») a p a s s a g e t h a t r e v e a l s M i l t o n ' s o w n k n o w l e d g e . Y e t this does not a p p e a r to h a v e been v e r y detailed, as there is scarcely any o t h e r m e n t i o n o f specific herbs as remedies. 2 7 T h e only Agonistes
figurative
r e f e r e n c e to herbs occurs in
Samson
:
Thoughts my Tormenters arm'd with deadly stings M a n g l e my apprehensive tenderest parts, Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise Dire inflammation which no cooling herb O r medcinal liquor can asswage, N o r breath of Vernal A i r from Snowy Alp. (I, 359) 24
Chapter X X I I I . T h e Parson's Completeness.
« ibid. 2 8 W e m a y also note t h a t the s h e p h e r d in Comus is " s k i l l e d In e v e r y v i r t u o u s p l a n t a n d h e a l i n g h e a r b , " a n d t h a t C i r c e m a k e s use of "potent h e a r b s and b a l e ful drugs." 2 7 M i l t o n t w i c e s p e a k s o f h e r b s as " w h o l e s o m e , " but the r e f e r e n c e is to f o o d .
London Private Life
55
T h i s noticeable paucity of reference to the more homely aspect of medicine is probably due both to his environment and to his physique. Unlike H e r b e r t ' s country parson, he lived in London where "outlandish g u m s " were readily available. F u r t h e r m o r e , his progressive loss of sight was an infirmity beyond the scope of a m a t e u r treatment and would naturally give him a g r e a t e r concern f o r professional medicine than the average man would feel. 2 8 T h i s is doubtless the primary explanation of the unusually large number of medical images that he makes use of, 2 0 to say nothing of many non-figurative references, a conspicuous example of which is the list of diseases that rack fallen humanity. 3 0 H e has, it is true, only three images based specifically on eye trouble, all of them in the early church and divorce pamphlets, and all turning merely on the use of " s e e " f o r "understand" : If our understanding have a film of ignorance over it, or be blear with gazing on other false glisterings, w h a t is that to T r u t h ? If w e w i l l but purge with sovrain eyesalve that intellectual ray which God hath planted in us, then w e would beleeve the Scriptures protesting their own plainnes. (Ref., I I I , 3 3 )
Yet he has many non-figurative passages r e f e r r i n g to his disease in considerable detail. A f u r t h e r explanation of the large number of medical images lies in his habits of controversy. An obvious weapon in seventeenth century pamphlet w a r f a r e was the discrediting of an opponent by turning his mental aberrations into physical infirmities. T h i s type of image is found in all the 28 " A l m o s t all of M i l t o n ' s m e d i c a l l o r e — t h e s t r u c t u r e a n d p h y s i o l o g y of the h u m a n b o d y , the p a t h o l o g y of v a r i o u s d i s e a s e s , the e f f i c a c y of c e r t a i n r e m e d i e s — c a n be e x p l a i n e d f r o m . . . [ t h e e n c y c l o p e d i a s of science then p o p u l a r b y B a t m a n , B a r t h o l o m e w , a n d L a P r i m a u d a y e ] , W h e t h e r M i l t o n t u r n e d to these specific books is d e b a t a b l e , f o r the i n f o r m a t i o n in them w a s a v a i l a b l e e v e r y w h e r e . " K . S v e n d s e n , " M i l t o n a n d M e d i c a l L o r e , " Bulletin of the History of Medicine (Johns Hopkins), X I I I , 183. 29 A b o u t 4 % of the total i m a g e s in his p r o s e a s a g a i n s t 2% in the n o n M i l t o n i c p r o s e . H a r d l y a n y such i m a g e s a p p e a r in his p o e t r y . 30 Paradise Lost, B k . X I , II. 4 7 7 - 4 9 3 .
London Private Life
56
polemical writers of the period, but M i l t o n takes fuller advantage of his opportunities than his contemporaries. In one case, however, that of King Charles, he is very restrained, since he never speaks of the King himself as being diseased. H e says only t h a t Charles's "inordinate doings" had inflamed distempers in the nation which Parliament was to "allay and quench," and that Charles, considering as he did t h a t all the blood spilled in the war was "exhausted out of his own veins," did not distinguish as he ought, which w a s good blood and w h i c h corrupt ; the not letting out whereof endangers the w h o l e body. ( E i k o n V , 2 0 1 )
T h i s moderation, which is also strikingly evident in the images based on animals and on historical and mythological characters, is clearly the result of a deliberate policy. 31 Bishop H a l l is in worse case, but escapes fairly lightly: his understanding needs physic, his desire to instruct is like an eczema, and his book, filled with his phlegmatic sloth, moves with a heavy pulse. In Colasterion M i l t o n is more contemptuous toward his nameless opponent, who quotes law in a fit of lunacy, and needs a d r a f t of
Littleton . .
. [ t o ] recover him to his senses ;
(Colast., IV, 270)
and whose book suffers f r o m the gout and dropsy of a big margent, litter'd and overlaid w i t h crude and huddl'd quotations.
(Colasi.,
IV, 234)
W h e n Milton falls upon Salmasius and M o r u s , however, he throws aside all restraint. At monotonous length he calls them pests and plagues, mad and delirious, vomiting and belching abuse. Yet, vigorous as his handling of filth may be, he certainly has no love of it f o r its own sake. Indeed, his very vividness probably springs f r o m a deep revulsion, a characteristic he 31
See Chapters 5 and 6.
London Private Life shares w i t h his m a s t e r S p e n s e r . 3 2 T h i s supposition
57 would
explain the f r e q u e n c y of his i m a g e s of skin disease: ulcers, t u m o r s , f e s t e r i n g sores, a n d the like, since these are the m o s t conspicuous and disgusting f o r m s of s i c k n e s s : 3 3 [in the case of a superstitious m a n ] all the inward acts of worship issuing from the native strength of the S O U L E , run out lavishly to the upper skin, and there harden into a crust of Formallitie; (Ref., I I I , 3 ) we must . . . cut away from the publick body the noysom and diseased tumor of Prelacie; (Ref., I I I , 6 2 ) P a r t i c u l a r l y effective in c o n v e y i n g his aversion is his a d a p t a tion of the classic f a b l e of the belly and the other bodily members : . . . [ A n argument for episcopacy is " N o bishop, no k i n g " ] Sir the little adoe, which me thinks I find in untacking these pleasant Sophismes, puts mee into the mood to tell you a tale ere I proceed further; and Menenius A grippa speed us. 34 Upon a time the Body summön'd all the Members to meet in the G u i l d for the common good . . . the head by right takes the first seat, and next to it a huge and monstrous W e n little lesse then the Head it selfe, growing to it by a narrower excrescency. T h e members amaz'd began to aske one another what hee was that took place next their cheif ; none could resolve. W h e r a t the W e n , though unweildy, with much adoe gets up and bespeaks the Assembly to this purpose. T h a t as in place he was second to the head, so by due of merit; that he was to it an ornament, and strength, and of speciali neere relation, and that if the head should faile, none were fitter then himselfe to step into his place; therefore hee thought it for the honour of the Body, that such 32
For images of dirty r a g s that show not moral revulsion but merely physical fastidiousness see C h a p t e r i , images of b e g g a r s . 33 Curiously, an exception must be made of images of the plague, which are never made v i v i d . He once calls Salmasius a " p l a g u e sore," but he has nothing approaching Hall's i m a g e : " I d a r e not say but there may be hid in my nature, as much venemous Athéisme . . . as hath broken out at his lips; ( E v e r y one that is infected with the Sicknesse, hath not the Sores running upon h i m : ) " ( A Modest Confutation. To the Reader). T h i s may r e f e r to syphilis, rather than to the plague, but in any case it is f a r more specific than Milton's. 34 Plutarch, Coriolanui, 6 ; L i v y , I I , 32. T h e same metaphor of a wen, but with no classic reference, is used by Prynne, Lord Bishops, p. 22 ( W . T . Hale, Of Reformation, N e w H a v e n , 1 9 1 6 , p. 1 5 6 ) ; and by Lilburne (Masson, Life of Milton, I I I , 570).
58
London Private Life
dignities and rich indowments should be decreed him, as did adorne, and set out the noblest Members. T o this was answer'd, that it should bee consulted. T h e n was a wise and learned Philosopher sent for, that knew all the Charters, L a w e s , and Tenures of the Body. On him it is impos'd by all, as cheife Committee to examine, and discusse the claime and Petition of right put in by the W e n : who soone perceiving the matter, and wondring at the boldnesse of such a swolne T u m o r , W i l t thou (quoth he) that art but a bottle of vitious and harden'd excrements, contend with the l a w f u l l and free-borne members, whose certaine number is set by ancient, and unrepealable Statute? head thou art none, though thou receive this huge substance from it, what office bearst thou? W h a t good canst thou shew by thee done to the Common-weale ? the W e n not easily dash't replies, that his Office was his glory, for so o f t as the soule would retire out of the head from over the steaming vapours of the lower parts to Divine Contemplation, with him shee found the purest, and quietest retreat, as being most remote from soile, and disturbance. Lourdan, quoth the Philosopher, thy folly is as great as thy filth ; know that all the faculties of the Soule are confin'd of old to their severall vessels, and ventricles, f r o m which they cannot part without dissolution of the whole B o d y ; and that thou containst no good thing in thee, but a heape of hard, and loathsome uncleannes, and art to the head a foul disfigurment and burden, when I have cut thee off, and open'd thee, as by the help of these implements I will doe, all men shall see. {Ref., I I I , 47 ) I n a d d i t i o n t o t h e s p e c i f i c ills t h a t h a v e b e e n n o t e d , r e f e r s to m a n y
o t h e r s , such as f e v e r , quinsy,
Milton
heart*burn,
p a l s y , and the like. Nor
accepted
medical
t h e o r i e s o f his d a y , the m o s t basic o f w h i c h w a s ,
perhaps,
t h a t of
does
he
omit
reference
the f o u r h u m o r s . A n
to
the
excess of
c a u s e d ill h e a l t h , a n d t h e s t a n d a r d
any one of
them
remedy, coming
down
f r o m G a l e n , w a s to counteract the o v e r a b u n d a n t h u m o r by its o p p o s i t e : Christ meant not to be tak'n word for word, but like a wise Physician, adminstring one excesse against another to reduce us to a perfect mean. (Doct. Dir., I l l , 4 2 9 - 4 3 0 ) T h e h u m o r s w e r e distributed by the blood, that w a s
gen-
e r a t e d by the l i v e r assisted by the spleen. I m p r o p e r
fune-
London Private Life
59
tioning of these organs resulted in corrupt blood, which, as we have seen, 35 should be drained off. T h e spleen, drawing to it the elements of the blood, might become hard if it could not make blood f a s t enough : 3 0 [an obstinate person] w h o understands not a f t e r all this representing, I doubt his w i l l like a hard spleen d r a w s faster then his understanding can w e l l s a n g u i f i e ; ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 4 8 4 )
and an infected liver might require a violent remedy: T h i s [opinion concerning m a r r i a g e ] I admire h o w possibly it should inhabit thus long in the sense of so many disputing Theologians, unlesse it be the lowest lees of a canonicali infection l i v e r g r o w n to their sides ; which perhaps w i l l never uncling, without the strong abstersive of som heroick m a g i s t r a t ; {Tetra., I V , 89)
Finally, the brain was thought to be divided into three (or six) cells, which were regarded as the seats of imagination ( o r f a n c y ) , reason, and memory, 3 7 and "infection or alteration in the cell of fancy was thought a prime cause of insanity. In Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, Milton refers to such a morbid condition when he argues against the restraint of l a w f u l liberties" : 3 8 [ T h e fantastic dreams of Anabaptists etc. may proceed] f r o m the restraint of some l a w f u l l liberty, which ought to be giv'n men, and is deny'd them. A s by Physick w e learn in menstruous bodies, w h e r e natures current hath been stopt, that the suffocation and u p w a r d forcing of some lower part, affects the head and i n w a r d sense w i t h dotage and idle fancies. {Doct. Div., I l l , 4 2 6 )
Milton's knowledge of disease was, then, extensive, and his knowledge of its cure was no less so. H e has many references to the general fact of healing, 3 8 to specific medical practices 40 and appliances : 39 See above, King Charles did not distinguish "as he ought, which was 30 good blood" etc. Svendsen, op. cit., pp. 163-164. 37 38 39 Ibid., p. 167. Ibid., p. 171. T o heal, remedy, allay, etc. 40 To administer one excess against another, to relax the bowels, to use warm applications and chafing. Bad practices are: to attempt to cure merely by lecturing to the sick, to weaken health by excessive remedies, and to cure a scratch but leave the main wound spouting.
6o
London Private Life
[Censorship assumes that the English people are] in such a sick and weak estate of faith and discretion, as to be able to take nothing down but through the pipe of a licencer ; ( Areo., I V , 328) to the medicines t h e m s e l v e s , 4 1 to lancing, to the s e a r c h i n g of a w o u n d , and to a m p u t a t i o n . M a n y of these details a r e f o u n d in a single i m a g e running t h r o u g h m o r e than t h r e e p a g e s , that deals with the function o f a m a g i s t r a t e
42
and
that illustrates, a m o n g o t h e r things, the s t a n d a r d t r e a t m e n t of i n s a n i t y : Whatever else men call punishment . . . is not properly an evil . . . but a saving med'cin ordain'd of God both for the publik and privat good of man, who . . . [was] left under two sorts of cure, the Church and the Magistrat . . . the civili Magistrat looking only upon the outward man . . . if he find in his complexion, skin, or outward temperature the signes and marks . . . of injustice, rapine . . . or the like, sometimes he shuts up as in frenetick, or infectious diseases ; or confines within dores, as in every sickly estate. Sometimes he shaves by penalty, or mulct, or els to cool and take down those luxuriant humors which wealth and excesse have caus'd to abound. Otherwhiles he seres, he cauterizes, he scarifies, lets blood, and finally for utmost remedy cuts off. The patients which mostanend [for the most part] are brought into his hospital are such as are farre gon, and beside themselves (unlesse they be falsly accus'd) so that force is necessary to tame and quiet them in their unruly fits, before they can be made capable of a more human cure . . . this is all that the civil Magistrat . . . confers to the healing of mans mind, working only by terrifying plaisters upon the rind & orifice of the sore . . . not once touching the inward bed of corruption, and that hectick disposition to evill. . . . [God therefore joined to him the minister and] a certain number of grave and faithful brethren, (for neither doth the phisitian doe all in restoring his patient, he prescribes, another prepares the med'cin, some tend, some watch, some visit). (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 5 4 - 2 5 7 ) About
the o t h e r n e c e s s a r y
household
activities,
aside
f r o m these m a j o r ones, M i l t o n is a l m o s t silent. Once he mentions dust, which he seems to t a k e f o r g r a n t e d : " I n g e n e r a l : dose, physic, drench, corrosive, caudle, pill, phur, and treacle. 42 A f e w pages later ( R . Ch. minister, Milton has a similar
drugs, purge, balm, cordial, salve, draught, and opiate. Specifically: opium, hellebore, sulGov., I l l , 264), in discussing the function of a figure almost equally elaborate.
London Private Life
ÔI
[At the time of the Reformation] Then was the Sacred B I B L E sought out of the dusty corners where prophane Falshood and Neglect had throwne it, {Ref., III, 5 )
and once cleaning, in the Biblical phraseology of "sweeping and garnishing." 43 H e says nothing about carpentry and similar work of maintenance and repair. 4 4 Balancing the drudgery of the household are the relaxations, but these are considered in detail elsewhere. T o cards and indoor games he was indifferent; 4 5 his great delights were music 46 and reading, 4 7 in which he constantly indulged. Except f o r music, his household must have been quieter than those of his neighbors. In one other, and much more important, particular his household also differed; it was afflicted with greater discord and unhappiness. Few men were deserted by their wives, and still fewer advocated divorce as a remedy f o r their situation. 4 8 Milton's images dealing with this problem throw a little fresh light on his attitude. H i s early references, antedating his marriage, assume the indissolubility of wedlock. T h e intimate artistic bond between the music and the voice singing the words of the song is a marriage : Aires, Married to immortal verse; (L'Ali.,
I, 39)
Voice, and Vers, W e d your divine sounds; (Solemn Music,
I, 27)
as is the legal bond between the king and his kingdom : Lawes, Statutes, and Acts of Parliament . . . are the holy Cov'nant of Union, and Marriage betweene the King and his Realme. (Ref., III, 57)
In like manner, prelacy is the mate of discord : 43
M a t t h e w 1 2 : 4 4 ; Luke 1 1 : 2 5 . His knowledge of the basic trades w a s superficial. See Chapter 1 . 45 49 See C h a p t e r 1 . See Chapter 1 . 47 See patiim, but especially Chapter 6. 48 T h e establishment of 1642 as the date of Milton's m a r r i a g e makes it practically certain that M a r y Powell w a s at least partly the cause of his 44
divorce pamphlets.
Ó2
London Private Life
So that in stead of finding Prelaty an impeacher of Schisme . . . [ I ] think rather that faction and she as with a spousal ring are wedded together, never to be divorc't. ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 2 )
But these are commonplaces which we would not expect Milton to qualify by providing f o r divorce. 49 T h e r e is, however, one exception. In Apology ( 1 6 4 1 ) he makes use of an image of a man divorcing his wife f o r adultery: If w e have indeed given a bill of divorce to Popery and superstition, w h y do we not say as to a divors't w i f e ; those things which are yours take them all with you, and they shall sweepe after you? W h y were not we thus wise at our parting from Rome? A h like a c r a f t y adultresse she forgot not all her smooth looks and inticing words at her parting ; yet keep these letters, these tokens, and these f e w ornaments ; I am not all so greedy of what is mine, let them preserve with you the memory of what I am? N o , but of what I was, once faire and lovely in your eyes. T h u s did those tender hearted reformers dotingly suffer themselves to be overcome with harlots language. A n d she like a witch, but with a contrary policy did not take something of theirs that she might still have power to bewitch them, but for the same intent left something of her own behind her. A n d that her whoorish cunning should prevaile to work upon us her deceitfull ends, though it be sad to speak, yet such is our blindnesse, that we deserve. (Apol., I I I , 3 5 5 - 3 5 6 )
H e r e the phrase " a bill of divorce" is an obvious echo of " a bill of divorcement" in Deuteronomy 2 4 : 1, one of the basic texts in his later arguments. Further, he is here adopting one of the causes f o r divorce which was accepted among all the Puritan and Independent sects, and which he himself advocates in his divorce pamphlets. 50 T h i s image makes clear the fact that his attitude did not spring merely f r o m his own misfortunes. 5 1 T h e r e is only one later image, but this is significant in its implications: 40 T h e r e are a f e w minor references: the m a r r i a g e of the vine with the elm, which hae many literary sources; the m a r r i a g e of Christ with the church, a religious commonplace; and the m a r r i a g e in heaven of the v i r g i n s with the Lamb, based on Revelation 1 4 : 1 - 5 . 50 Of course, he argues that adultery should not be the only cause, and stresses w h a t w e now call incompatibility. 51 A l l a n H. Gilbert ( " M i l t o n on the Position of W o m e n , " Modern Language Revievi, X V ( 1 9 2 0 ) , 7 - 2 7 ) has shown the importance of the problem of m a r r i a g e in Milton's general philosophy and the likelihood that he had considered
London Private Life
63
If C h u r c h and state shall be made one flesh again as under the l a w , let it be w i t h a l l considerd, that G o d w h o then joind them hath n o w severd them ; that w h i c h , he so ordaining, w a s then a l a w f u l l conjunction, to such on either side as j o i n again w h a t he hath severd, w o u l d be nothing n o w but thir o w n presumptuous fornication. {Civil
Power,
VI, 25-26)
G o d , w e o b s e r v e , can as decisively sever as he can join. Y e t , except w h e n such e x t r a o r d i n a r y circumstances the
organization
the
familiar
of
family
seventeenth
life,
century
as
Milton
one. T h e
arise,
pictures
it,
is
husband
is
of
c o u r s e t h e h e a d o f t h e h o u s e h o l d , since m a n is t h e
superior
sex : [ C r o m w e l l ' s g o v e r n m e n t , although a minority, is as] w o r t h y to h a v e dominion over the rest, as men over w o m e n ; ( F i r s t Def.,
V I I , 63)
[ M e n are not free w h o c a n n o t ] dispose and (economize in the L a n d w h i c h G o d hath g i v ' n them, as M a i s t e r s of F a m i l y in thir o w n house and free inheritance. (Tenure, V , 40) The
father
trains
his
family
in a c c o r d a n c e
with
his
own
principles : C e r t a i n l y if G o d be the father of his family the C h u r c h , wherein could he expresse that name more, then in training it up under his o w n e allwise and dear O e c o n o m y ; ( R . Ch. Gov.,
I l l , 188)
he r e p r o v e s : [ E x c o m m u n i c a t i o n proceeds] not by Imprisonment . . . much less by stripes or bonds, or disinheritance, but by F a t h e r l y admonishment, and C h r i s t i a n r e b u k e ; (Ref., I I I , 7 1 - 7 2 ) he e x p e c t s t o be h o n o r e d and o b e y e d by his sons : [ A minister] o u g h t to be honour'd as a Father . . . w i t h a Son-like and Disciple-like
r e v e r e n c e ; (Ref.,
III, 64)
it b e f o r e h i s o w n m a r r i a g e . C . L . P o w e l l t r a c e s t h e e x t e n s i v e a n d c o m p l i c a t e d b a c k g r o u n d of w r i t i n g on the subject of m a r r i a g e and d i v o r c e , w i t h some w h i c h at l e a s t M i l t o n w a s d e m o n s t r a b l y f a m i l i a r (English N e w Y o r k , 1 9 1 7 , passim,
Domestic
of
Relations,
b u t e s p e c i a l l y p. 93. A p p e n d i x Β is s u p e r s e d e d b y t h e
s h i f t in t h e d a t e of M i l t o n ' s m a r r i a g e ) . S e e a l s o T i l l y a r d , Milton,
L o n d o n , 19^0,
p. 148, w h o a g r e e s t h a t M i l t o n ' s d i v o r c e p a m p h l e t s w e r e " p r o b a b l y f o u n d e d o n e a r l i e r t h o u g h t , " t h o u g h T i l l y a r d d o e s not s e e m to be a w a r e o f e i t h e r or Powell.
Gilbert
London Private Life
64
First therefore the g o v e r n m e n t of the G o s p e l l being economicall and paternali, that is, of such a f a m i l y w h e r e there be no servants, but all sons in obedience, not in servility . . . h o w can the P r e l a t e s justifie to have t u r n ' d the f a t h e r l y orders of C h r i s t s houshold . . . into the barre of a proud judiciall c o u r t . ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 6 7 ) T o b e s u r e , h e is n o t w i t h o u t l o v e f o r h i s f a m i l y . H e o v e r t h e m his p r o t e c t i o n ; 5 - he clothes their
extends
nakedness:
[ A f t e r the fall of A d a m and E v e , C h r i s t ] A s F a t h e r of his F a m i l i e he clad T h i r nakedness. (P.L., II, 312) H e w o u l d m o u r n their death, as A d a m g r i e v e d at the vision o f t h e flood : on thy feet thou stoodst at last, T h o u g h comfortless, as w h e n a F a t h e r m o u r n s H i s C h i l d r e n , all in v i e w destroyd at once. ( P . L . , I I , 3 7 2 ) H e m a y even be indulgent w h e n his sons h a v e reached
ma-
turity: [ I n the G o s p e l ] wee being n o w his adopted sons . . . G o d being n o w no more a j u d g e after the sentence of the L a w , nor as it w e r e a schoolmaister of perishable rites, but a most i n d u l g e n t f a t h e r g o v e r n i n g his C h u r c h as a familv of sons in their discreet a g e . " (R. Yet
they
arc
l o n g in r e a c h i n g
maturity.
Ch.
Gov.,
Infants
I l l , 256) are
help-
l e s s : t h u s , S a m s o n is in most things as a child H e l p l e s s ; (S.A., I, 3 7 0 ) they eat premasticated f o o d : [ T h e K i n g ] must chew such Morsels down.
as Propositions
ere he let
them
So let h i m ; but if the K i n g d o m shall tast n o t h i n g but a f t e r his
c h e w i n g , w h a t does he make of the K i n g d o m , but a great babj'. (Eikon., 52
V,
187)
T o denote o r i g i n or c a r e M i l t o n uses i n d i f f e r e n t l y the i m a g e of a f a t h e r :
t h e P h a r i s e e s a r e the f a t h e r s o f t h e p r e l a t e s , e t c . ; o f a m o t h e r : c e n s o r s h i p is a n u r s i n g m o t h e r to sects a n d a s t e p - d a m e to t r u t h , etc. ; o r of a p a r e n t : c o v e t o u s ness and a m b i t i o n are the p a r e n t s of e p i s c o p a c y , etc. r'3
T h e r e f e r e n c e is to G a l a t i a n s 3 : 2 4 - 2 5 . S e e b e l o w , n o t e
55.
London Private Life C h i l d r e n h a v e little k n o w l e d g e or discrimination : [ T h a t D r u i d s ] would for w a n t of recording be ever Children in the K n o w l e d g e of T i m e s and Ages, is not likely ; (Hist, of Brit., X, 2) the Saxon Annals deliver thir meaning w i t h more then wonted infancy ; (Ibid., 2 1 0 ) [If men leave religion to the clergy] they will be alwaies learning and never knowing, alwaies infants; (Hirelings, V I , 100) [ M e n reading foolishly collect mere trifles] A s Children gathering pibles on the shore. (P.R.,
I I , 471 )
T h e i r lives are r e g u l a t e d by rules enforced with the rod : For those actions which enter into a man, rather then issue out of him, and therefore defile not, G o d uses not to captivat under a perpetuali childhood of prescription, but trusts him with the gift of reason to be his own chooser; (Arto., I V , 310) [ T h e doctrine of Paraeus is that of one w h o would chastise men] in mature age with a boyish rod of correction. (Doct. Div., I l l , 507) The
f a t h e r is f o r t h e m o s t p a r t t h e s o u r c e o f
authority,
but the m o t h e r has, on occasion, h e r o w n s o m e w h a t startling m e t h o d s of discipline : as a tender M o t h e r takes her Child and holds it over the pit with scarring words, that it may learne to feare, where danger is, so doth excommunication . . . use her wholsome and saving terrors. (Ref., I I I , 72) Even when
the children
have
grown
older, they
are
still
under the control of their father, or are wards of a guardian : [Henry V I I I w a s ] made a boy of by those his two Cardinall Judges; (Doct. Div., I l l , 502) [ T h e English people] more like boyes under age then men . . . comm i « all to [the K i n g ] ; (Ready £sf Easy Way, V I , 122) [Under a system of censorship a learned author] must appear in Print like a punie [minor] with his guardian; (Areo., I V , 325) puny L a w . . . brought under the wardship, and controul of lust. (Ref.,
I I I , 38)
o r , in t h e c a s e o f a d a u g h t e r , a r e r u l e d b y a n u r s e : T r u t h [is] the daughter not of T i m e , but of Heaven, only bred up heer
London Private Life
òò
below in Christian hearts, between t w o grave & holy nurses the D o c trine, and Discipline of the G o s p e l . (Prélat.
Epis.,
III, 9 1 )
Such discipline was the accepted practice in Milton's time and f o r long a f t e r , but, even so, it seems to have made a remarkably strong impression on him. Perhaps as a boy, he looked f o r w a r d to adult freedom, and as a man, he came to see the desirability of control. Furthermore, the absence of any tenderness or companionship between parent and child is here conspicuous. W e do not find anything comparable to the touching vignettes of Bishop H a l l and of Giles Fletcher : G o d is no otherwise affected to this imperfect elocution [in extempore p r a y e r ] then an indulgent P a r e n t is to the clipped and broken language of his deare childe, w h i c h is more delightfull to him then any smooth O r a t o r y ; ( H a l l , Humble
Remon.,
p. 1 3 )
[ C h r i s t tore out the stings of the serpent-demons] S o may wee o f t a vent'rous father see, T o please his w a n t o n sonne, his onely joy, Coast all about, to catch the roving bee, A n d stung himselfe, his busie hands employ T o save the honie, f o r the gamesome boy.
(Fletcher, Christs Triumph
over Death, st. 24)
to say nothing of Shakespeare's images, remarkable both in number and in quality, of affectionate and indulgent parents. 54 Certainly Milton was not harshly treated by his father. On the contrary, the astonishing fact that the elder Milton, a successful businessman, was willing to continue the support of his son, whose life was to be devoted wholly to literature, shows a degree of sympathetic understanding rare even today. T h a t Milton was deeply grateful he makes clear in To my Father and elsewhere. This relationship, established in the exceptional environment of his childhood and youth, might naturally be expected to appear in the imagery, but f o r some unknown reason it does not. W e can54
Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 1 3 7 - 1 3 9 .
London Private Life
fr]
not explain its absence by assuming that the images reflect M i l t o n ' s experience as a f a t h e r himself, since many of them were written b e f o r e his first m a r r i a g e . M i l t o n w a s impressed not by his opportunities f o r study but by the study itself. T h i s is by f a r the most vivid imprint that his home l i f e made on him. T o be a boy is practically the same thing as to be a pupil : Next I distinguish that the time of the [Mosaic] Law is compar'd to youth, and pupillage in respect of the ceremonial part, which led the Jewes as children; (Doct. Div., I l l , 507) [Had King Charles] also redeem'd his overdated minority from a Pupillage under Bishops, he would much less have mistrusted his Parlament; (Eikon., V, 185) [The people of England must learn self-control. Otherwise] like a nation in pupillage, you would then want rather a tutor, and a . . . superintendent of your own concerns. (Sec. Def.t V I I I , 251 ) W h e n a man loses his authority, he becomes again a boy at school : How then the ripe age of the Gospell should be put to schools againe, and learn to governe her selfe from the infancy of the [Mosaic] Law, the stronger to imitate the weaker . . . the learned to be lesson'd by the rude, will be a hard undertaking to evince ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 196-197) And how can a man teach with authority, which is the life of teaching, how can he be a Doctor in his book as he ought to be, or else had better be silent, whenas all he teaches, all he delivers, is but under the tuition, under the correction of his patriarchal licencer . . . I hate a pupil teacher, I endure not an instructer that comes to me under the wardship of an overseeing fist; ( A reo., IV, 325-326) [The bishops wish to] confine the Monarch to a kind of Pupillage under their Hierarchy. (Ref., I I I , 59) Conscientiousness in learning is of the first importance, f o r truancy is likely to have serious consequences : [Men neglected Scripture for incidental matters. Thus] they lost their time, and truanted in the fundamentall grounds of saving knowledge. (Prélat. Epis., III, 94)
68
London Private Life
W h i l e the pupil is still very young, the process of education is somewhat sweetened : [ T h e Jews of St. Paul's time had the Mosaic L a w as] thier Schoolmaister, w h o was forc't to intice them as children with childish enticements. But the Gospell is our manhood, and the ministry should bee the manhood of the Gospell; " (Apol., I I I , 363)
and certain mechanical aids are provided f o r h i m : [ U n d e r censorship] W h a t advantage is it to be a man over it is to be a boy at school, if w e have only scapt the ferular [rod, r u l e r ] , to come under the fescu [thin stick used in pointing out letters to children beginning to read] of an Imprimaturf if serious and elaborat writings, as if they were no more then the theam of a Grammar lad under his Pedagogue must not be utter'd without the cursory eyes of a . . . licencer; (Jreo., I V , 324) A Minister that cannot be trusted to pray in his own words without being . . . fescu'd to a formal injunction of his rote-lesson, should as little be trusted to Preach; ( A n i m . , I l l , 124) [ C h u r c h councils should not distrust preachers so] as to tutor their unsoundnesse with the Abcie [spelling book] of a Liturgy. (Artim., I l l , 1 2 7 )
H e is not indulged f o r long, however, but must soon proceed on his own initiative : [Even though set forms of prayer may] be granted to some people [ministers] while they are babes in Christian guifts, were it not better to take it away soone after, as we do loitering books, and interlineary translations from children; to stirre up and exercise that portion of the spirit which is in them. ( A p o l . , I l l , 350)
A f t e r all this, it is almost with a sense of incredulity that we come upon one simile based on a vacation : N o mortali nature can endure either in the actions of Religion, or study of wisdome, without somtime slackning the cords of intense thought and labour . . . W e cannot therefore alwayes be contemplative, or pragmaticall abroad, but have need of som delightfull intermissions, wherin 55 T h e r e f e r e n c e is to G a l a t i a n s 3 : 2 4 - 2 5 : " W h e r e f o r e the l a w w a s o u r s c h o o l m a s t e r to b r i n g us unto C h r i s t , that w e m i g h t be justified b y f a i t h . B u t a f t e r t h a t f a i t h is come, w e a r e no l o n g e r u n d e r a s c h o o l m a s t e r . " M i l t o n , h o w e v e r , d i d not d e p e n d on the B i b l e f o r his i d e a s of schooling.
69
London Private Life
the enlarg'd soul may leav off a while her severe schooling; and like a glad youth in wandring vacancy, may keep her hollidaies to joy and harmles pastime; which . . . she cannot well doe without [a wife]. ( Tetra., IV, 85-86) A l t h o u g h his o t h e r types of images are not so characteristic as these, M i l t o n does d r a w h e a v i l y on nearly all the rem a i n i n g aspects o f m a r i t a l and f a m i l y l i f e . W e find conception and b i r t h : 5 6 [Dalila] by the sent [of gold] conceiv'd Her spurious first-born; Treason against me; ( S . A . , I, 351) Heresie begat heresie with a certaine monstrous haste of pregnancy in her birth, at once borne and bringing forth ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 211) a c h i l d , " a son o r d a u g h t e r , a b r o t h e r o r sister. 5 8 H e is f o n d of
the m e t a p h o r o f twins, which he uses eight
times, 8 9
a l t h o u g h it seems t o h a v e no special psychological significance : It was from out the rinde of one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evill as two twins cleaving together leapt forth into the World. ( A r t o . , IV, 310) H o w e v e r , his r a t h e r numerous
figures
of a virgin o r vir-
ginity m a y be an indication of the importance that he attached t o this v i r t u e : [In some situations] may a King injoy his rights, and Prerogatives undeflowr'd, untouch'd; ( R e f . , III, 73) [King Charles's] honour became so streitn'd with a kind of fais Virginity, that to the English . . . [no] demands could be granted.
(Eikon., V, 203) T h i s aspect o f his character is too w e l l k n o w n to need e l a b o r a t i o n . T h e stress he put upon the ideal of v i r g i n i t y 5 8 A l s o : to beget, p r o c r e a t e , breed, e n g e n d e r ; g i v e birth to, teem, be i n f a n t e d , be b o r n o f , out o f , h a v e birth i n ; t r a v a i l , suffer birth p a n g s . 5 7 A l s o : b r a t , imp, o f f s p r i n g , p r o g e n y , first-born. 58 There a r e v a r i o u s miscellaneous i m a g e s : mate, c o n s o r t ; o r p h a n , h e i r , b a s t a r d , f o s t e r - c h i l d ; g o d f a t h e r , k i n ; ancestor, p e d i g r e e ; c o m r a d e , f r i e n d ; guest, mistress. 5 9 F o r the " t w i n s o f H i p p o c r a t e s , " see C h a p t e r 6, note 367.
70
London Private Life
was simply a p a r t of his insistence on continence, self-control, and moral purity in general. H o w e v e r , what does need to be pointed out here is t h a t a man with such exacting standards cannot easily fit into the normal p a t t e r n of family life. In his youth he was, perhaps, so w r a p p e d up in his books that he simply did not notice w h a t was being done f o r him. As he grew older, his self-absorption was increased by a natural anxiety about his eyesight. T h i s is not to say that he was incapable of w a r m feelings ; without response on his p a r t he could not have inspired as he did both friendship and discipleship. H e could even feel tenderness. It is a reasonable assumption t h a t he married M a r y Powell because he fell in love with her, and he certainly loved his "espoused saint" Katharine Woodcock. 6 0 But it is also a reasonable assumption that his friendship and affection could be had only on his own terms. H i s friends and wives h a d to meet his standards (and M a r y Powell apparently did n o t ) ; he could not accommodate himself to theirs. Probably M i l t o n could never f o r g e t himself and his mission. Hence, when he became a f a t h e r himself, he h a d no aptitude f o r familiar and undignified relaxation with his children. W h e n he relaxed, he did so in the grand m a n n e r — w i t h music, or g r e a t literature, or a choice repast worthy of P l a t o ' s symposium. Even when we have made the necessary qualifications, we still think of M i l t o n as less domesticated than isolated, less a paterfamilias than a recluse. W e can hardly do better than echo W o r d s w o r t h : " H i s soul was like a star and dwelt apart." 60
\V. R. Parker ("Milton's Last Sonnet," R.E.S., X X I , 1945, 235) has shown that it is possible to read this sonnet as referring to Mary Powell, but the reading remains only possible.
CHAPTER
3
Travel and War
C
ITIZEN of London though he was, Milton was also
a citizen of E n g l a n d and of the world. During his years at Cambridge and at H o r t o n he must have walked
about the countryside and ridden frequently to and f r o m London. It is f r o m these journeys, as well as f r o m his tour
of the Continent, that his images of travel arise. 1 Some are based merely upon the fact of traveling;
2
others give us
pictures of roadside incidents: an early start in the darkness, 3 By this time, like one who had set out on his way by night, and travail'd through a Region of smooth or idle Dreams, our History now arrivs on the Confines, where daylight and truth meet us with a cleer dawn, representing to our view, though at a farr distance, true colours and shapes; (Hist, of Brit., X , 3 1 ) a noonday pause f o r rest at an inn, [In showing Adam the vision of the future] As one who in his journey bates at Noone, Though bent on speed, so heer the Archangel paus'd ; (.V.L., I I , 378) [Hall has the title of his book] hung out like a toling [enticing] signepost to call passengers; (Apol., I I I , 289) a hesitation at a cross-road, 1 Not included are the conventional images of the journey of the sun, moon, etc. Sea travel is included in Chapter 4. 2 T o traverse a great distance, to ramble, run circuit, lead the way, and the like. * This is also light-truth and darkness-ignorance image. See Chapter 4, notes j8, $9.
72
Travel and War
[ I n disputes of the schoolmen the reader] is left as though at a crossway, quite uncertain in mind whether to turn in one direction or the other. (Prolusion IV,ΧII, 177) Still others are based m o r e specifically on t r a v e l by
horse
or a f o o t . O f these only a f e w actually visualize r i d i n g : 4 For evil news rides post, while good news baits; (S.A.,
I, 392)
[ D o not overwork a conceit based on the word "blushing"] lest you bejade the good galloway [small, sturdy horse], your owne opionaster w i t , and make the very conceit it selfe blush w i t h spur-galling; (Anim., I l l , 169) T o use the common simile, as a rider, w h o urges on a stumbling horse in a particular direction is the cause of its increasing its speed, but not of its stumbling, so G o d . . . may instigate an evil agent, without being in the least degree the cause of the evil. (Ch. Doct., X V , 7 5 ) and a few more visualize w a l k i n g : 9 T h u s farre by others is already w e l l stept . . . if there remain a furlong yet to end the question, these . . . reasons may serve to gain it ; (Doct. Div., I l l , 499) [ I w i l l ] save the Reader a far longer travaile of wandring through so many desert A u t h o u r s ; (Moscovia, X , 328) I shall not intend this hot season to bid you the base [challenge you to a race] through the wide, and dusty champaine of the Councels. (Anim., I l l , 126) T h e s e images are sharp but neither unusual nor
extensive.
O n the w h o l e he has little to say of life on the
highways.
He
does not mention the vehicles, the private
coaches,® t h e m o r e
humble
stage wagons,
or
and the
wains laden with produce; the herds of cattle or
public country
flocks
of
geese b e i n g d r i v e n to m a r k e t ; his f e l l o w t r a v e l e r s , v a g r a n t s , 4 Moat of them turn on bit, rein, etc. Others refer to various kinds of horses. See Chapter 5. 8 T o walk abreast, to step aside, follow close at heel, follow every step, l a g after. β Compare Bishop H a l l : [ T o change our ancient form of religion for a foreign one] " w h a t w e r e it other, than to snatch the reines out of the hands of a skilful! Coachman and either to lay them loose on the horses necks, or to deliver them to the hands of some ignorant, and unskilfull lackeyes, that run along by them" (Episcopacy by Divine Right, 2$).
Travel and War drunken
rowdies,
lawless
soldiers,
highwaymen,
73 and
sus-
picious w a t c h m e n ; the f o r d s and b r i d g e s ; or the b a d w e a t h e r and frequent accidents.7 M i l t o n w a s not the traveler
that
Chaucer was. H i s most numerous and characteristic images are
those
that focus attention not on the m o d e of travel but on the p a t h o r w a y i t s e l f . O n l y o n c e is it r e c o g n i z a b l y E n g l i s h : T h e way propounded is plane, easie and open before us . . . lies free and smooth before us ; is not tangl'd with inconveniencies . . . requires no . . . circumscription of mens lands and proprieties; secure, that . . . no man or number of men can attain to such wealth . . . as w i l l need the hedge of an A g r a r i a n law . . . to confine them from endangering our public libertie. (Ready & Easy Way, V I , 1 3 3 - 1 3 4 ) H e r e h e is c e r t a i n l y t h i n k i n g o f t h e h e d g e r o w s o f t h e c o u n t r y s i d e f a m i l i a r t o h i m . U s u a l l y , h o w e v e r , h e is t h i n k i n g o f Biblical p a t h s : straight,8 [ L e t God's l a w be studied by men] able to shew us the waies of the Lord, strait . . . not f u l l of cranks and contradictions, and pit falling dispenses; ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 3 7 5 ) T h e method of holy correction . . . is . . . to limit and level out the direct w a y from vice to vertu, with straitest and exactest lines on either side, not winding, or indenting so much as to the right hand of fair pretences. (Doct. Div., I l l , 4 7 4 ) sloping d o w n to destruction : 9 you did not bid me go where a highway lies open wide and broad, where the ground slopes more straightly to gain, ( To My Father, I, 2 7 5 ) or up to G o d : 1 0 Joan Parkes, Travel in England in the Seventeenth Century, O x f o r d Press, 192J, passim. 8 M a t t h e w 3: 3, "Prepare ye the w a y of the Lord, make his paths straight." See also Psalms 5 : 8, Isaiah 40: 3, Jeremiah 3 1 : 9 , H e b r e w s 1 1 : 1 3 . 9 Matthew 7 : 1 3 - 1 4 , "Enter ye in at the the strait g a t e : f o r w i d e is the gate, and broad is the w a y , that leadeth to destruction, and many there be w h i c h go in thereat: Because strait is the gate, and n a r r o w is the w a y , which leadeth unto life, and f e w there be that find it." 1 0 P s a l m s 2 4 : 3 , " W h o shall ascend into the hill of the L o r d ? " Psalms 4 3 : 3 , " O send out thy light and thy truth: let them lead m e ; let them b r i n g me unto thy holy hill." T
74
Travel and War
H o w shall a man know . . . which way will leade him best to this hill top of sanctity and goodnesse above which there is no higher ascent but to the love of G o d ? (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 261) Lady that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shun'd the broad way and the green, A n d with those few art eminently seen, T h a t labour up the Hill of heav'nly T r u t h . 1 1 ( " L a d y T h a t in the Prime," I, 6 1 ) Y e t t h e B i b l e d o e s n o t a c c o u n t f o r e v e r y t h i n g , since M i l t o n o f t e n a d d s t h e u n s c r i p t u r a l i d e a t h a t t h e p a t h is r u g g e d . I n t h i s f o r m t h e i m a g e a p p e a r s all t h r o u g h his w o r k . O n its first o c c u r r e n c e , it is m e r e l y a d e t a i l in a l a r g e r
figure:
while I survey . . . these empty little questions [of theological controversy], I seem to myself to be undertaking a journey through rugged deserts and uneven roads and through vast solitudes and precipitous passes of mountains, because it is not likely that the charming . . . Muses preside over these shrivelled subjects . . . there never was a place for them on Parnassus. (Prolusion III, X I I , 163) L a t e r , t h e i m a g e is m o r e e l a b o r a t e a n d m o r e s p e c i f i c : [Milton intends to inculcate truth and virtue by writing great literature so that] whereas the paths of honesty and good life appear now rugged and difficult, though they be indeed easy and pleasant, they would then appeare to all men both easy and pleasant though they were rugged and difficult indeed; ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 239) I shall . . . conduct ye to a hill side, where I will point ye out the right path of a vertuous and noble Education ; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every side that [you will follow it] ; (.Educ., I V , 280) Y o u have rightly marked out for yourself the path of virtue in that theatre of the world on which you have entered ; but remember that the path is common so far to virtue and vice, and that you have yet to advance to where the path divides itself into two. And you ought . . . to prepare yourself for leaving this common path, pleasant and flowery, and for being able the more readily, with your own will, though with 1 1 T h e third and f o u r t h lines m a y also be a classic r e f e r e n c e . See C h a p t e r 1, note 76, and see b e l o w , notes 12, 13, and 14.
Travel and War
75
l a b o u r and danger, to climb that arduous and difficult one w h i c h is the slope of v i r t u e only. ( F a m i l i a r Letters,
XII,
113)
T h e s e passages, involving the ascent of a mountain and the sharp contrast between a difficult and an easy path, are strikingly like passages f r o m several classical authors, H e s i o d , 1 2 X e n o p h o n , 1 3 or Cebes, 1 4 any or all of which, together with widespread illustrations of them, 1 5 may well h a v e been M i l t o n ' s source. T h e r e is, however, one figure 1 2 " B a d n e s s c a n be got easily and in s h o a l s : the r o a d to her is smooth, a n d she l i v e s v e r y n e a r U9. B u t b e t w e e n us a n d G o o d n e s s the g o d s h a v e p l a c e d the s w e a t of our b r o w s : l o n g and steep is the path t h a t l e a d s to her, and it is r o u g h at t h e f i r s t ; but w h e n a m a n h a s r e a c h e d the top, then i n d e e d she ¡9 e a s y , t h o u g h o t h e r w i s e h a r d to r e a c h " (Works and Days, 2 8 7 - 2 9 2 ; " L o e b C l a s s i c a l Library"). 1 3 X e n o p h o n quotes the a b o v e p a s s a g e f r o m H e s i o d in his Memorabilia of Socrates and then continues w i t h the account of the j u d g e m e n t of H e r c u l e s : [ A t t h e b e g i n n i n g of m a n h o o d ] " a p e r i o d at w h i c h the y o u n g . . . b e g i n to g i v e intimations w h e t h e r they w i l l enter on life by the p a t h of v i r t u e or that of v i c e , [ H e r c u l e s ] w e n t f o r t h into a s o l i t a r y place, a n d sat d o w n , p e r p l e x e d a s to w h i c h of these t w o p a t h s he should pursue . . . [ V i c e a p p r o a c h e d ] " I see t h a t y o u a r e hesitating, H e r c u l e s , by w h a t p a t h y o u shall enter upon l i f e ; if, then, y o u m a k e a f r i e n d of me, I w i l l conduct y o u b y the most d e l i g h t f u l a n d e a s y r o a d , and you shall taste of e v e r y species of p l e a s u r e , a n d p a s s t h r o u g h l i f e w i t h o u t e x p e r i e n c i n g difficulties . . . [ V i c e specified the s e n s u a l d e l i g h t s . V i r t u e o f f e r e d a much more austere p r o g r a m ] H e r e V i c e , i n t e r r u p t i n g her speech said . . . " D o you see, Herculee, h o w difficult and tedious a r o a d to g r a t i f i c a t i o n this w o m a n describes to you, w h i l e I shall l e a d you, by an e a s y a n d short path, to p e r f e c t h a p p i n e s s ? " ( 2 1 - 2 9 ; E v e r y m a n E d i t i o n , pp. 4 1 - 4 3 . ) 1 4 T h e old m a n e x p l a i n s the m e a n i n g of the table or d i a g r a m of l i f e : " T h e n you see that little g a t e , a n d the w a y there b e f o r e the g a t e , w h i c h looks as if it w e r e but little used, l y i n g in such a steepe discent of that c r a g g y rock . . . you see m o r e - o v e r that hill there, that is e n v i r o n e d on e y t h e r side w i t h i n a c cessible cliffes, h a v i n g o n e l y one n a r r o w path to ascend it . . . T h a t s a m e p a t h , is all the w a y w e h a v e to true Instruction. T r u l y , Sir, me thinketh it is almost impossible to g e t up it. Y o u m a r k e t h a t steep rocke then by that other hill. [ W i t h t w o w o m e n , C o n t i n e n c e and T o l e r a n c e , r e a c h i n g out their h a n d s to help m a n u p ] if they w i l l climbe but a little, all the w a y a f t e r shall bee most p l a i n e and easie. B u t w h e n they come to the rock h o w shall they d o to a s c e n d ? I see no m e a n e they h a v e to mount so steep a cliffe. [ T h e t w o sisters] pull t h e m up by d e g r e e s . . . s h e w i n g them h o w plaine, & h o w p l e a s a n t the tract is, n o w that thy h a v e surmounted the f o r m e r difficulty, and h o w c l e a r e it is f r o m all c r a g g e s a n d encombrances, as you see in the T a b l e . " (John H e a l e y , Efictetus Manuali. Cebes Table. Theophraslus Characters, L o n d o n , 1616, pp. 1 2 8 - 1 3 1 . ) 1 5 See C h a p t e r 1, note 76.
70
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which is unlike the others in that Milton stresses the actual danger of the path : [ W e have not correctly interpreted God's scriptural ordinances concerning marriage and divorce] where he set us in a fair allowance of way . . . we have straitn'd and par'd that liberal path into a razors edge to walk on, between a precipice of unnecessary mischief on either side ; and starting at every false Alarum, we doe not know which way toset a foot forward with manly confidence. ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 4 9 7 )
In this instance, it seems probable that the image springs not f r o m books but f r o m life and records the deep impression made upon him by his crossing the Alps on his continental tour, 1 6 an experience to which he refers elsewhere 17 and which may well have been disagreeable to him. 1 8 T h i s experience, fusing with various Biblical and classical texts, became the symbol of man's lot in life : the giving up of the easy f o r the hard, the overcoming of great obstacles, and the attaining of a lofty goal. H i g h places are holy places, and the paths leading to them are straight, narrow, and laborious. Yet travel to and f r o m London was a minor matter, and even his G r a n d T o u r , however vividly remembered, was only one episode. Of f a r greater importance was the lifelong influence exerted upon him by the social and political world he lived in, a world whose most conspicuous characteristics were tension, confusion, and conflict. In his early youth, the civil and international struggles of the sixteenth century were of recent memory, the even more terrible T h i r t y Years W a r engulfed Europe, and religious and economic antagonism was splitting England apart. T h r o u g h out his maturity he lived in the midst of civil war. It is only natural, therefore, that war images should reflect these conditions. 16
T h e entire tour m a d e a l a s t i n g i m p r e s s i o n , g i v i n g r i s e to m a n y i m a g e s of
the sea a n d of I t a l y . S e e C h a p t e r 4. 17
S e e C h a p t e r 4.
18
M i l t o n s a y s nothing of the b e a u t y or g r a n d e u r of m o u n t a i n s . S e e C h a p t e r 4 .
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77
Some of them, however, do not need a background of actual armed conflict to explain them. In England the pamphlet w a r f a r e was extensive, and men, when engaged in such polemics, turn naturally to the battlefield f o r their images. F u r t h e r , since a large p a r t of the controversy was over matters of religion, the writers on both sides availed themselves of the conventional language of the church militant and of the Bible itself. Hence, Lilburne calls the reformers v a l i a n t souldiers of Jesus C h r i s t , ( A IVorke
of the Beast,
p. 2 0 )
and urges them to f i g h t m a n f u l l i e in this his spirituali battell . . . gird on y o u r S p i r i t u a l i a r m o u r spoken of Ephes faithfull Souldiers;
6
18
that you m a y quit y o u r selves like good and
(ibid.)
Goodwin's figure echoes the Psalms : he w o u l d . . . appear w i t h shield and buckler f o r the A p o s t l e s def e n c e ; 2 0 (Anti-Caval
ieris m e, p. 1 6 )
and L o r d Brooke's disavowal of heat in argumentation, I shoot not A r r o w e s of Scorne, (A
Discourse
opening
. . . Episcopasie,
p. 5 6 )
is in terms of Old T e s t a m e n t rather than contemporary combat. Milton, employing relatively more war imagery in his controversial pamphlets than elsewhere, makes use of the same conventions. In the Defence of Himself, f o r example, he says that if a good man w a n t s defence, and it is no u n c o m m o n thing f o r him to be assailed by slander and envious abuse, he entrenches himself in his o w n i n t e g r i t y , and in the i m p r e g n a b l e consciousness of righteous deeds; w h e r e , as 1 9 E p h e s i a n s 6: 1 3 - 1 7 : " W h e r e f o r e take unto you the w h o l e a r m o u r of G o d . . . . Stand t h e r e f o r e , h a v i n g y o u r loins g i r t about w i t h truth, and h a v i n g o n the b r e a s t p l a t e of r i g h t e o u s n e s s ; A n d y o u r f e e t shod w i t h the p r e p a r a t i o n of the g o s p e l of p e a c e ; A b o v e all, t a k i n g the shield of f a i t h , w h e r e w i t h y e s h a l l be able to quench all the fiery d a r t s of the w i c k e d . A n d take the helmet of s a l v a t i o n , and the s w o r d of the Spirit, w h i c h is the w o r d of G o d . " MiltoD h a s t w o m e t a p h o r s of " s p i r i t u a l a r m o u r " ( E i h o n . , V , 233, and P.L., B k . X I I , 11. 4 9 0 - 4 9 2 ) . -» P s a l m s 9 1 : 4 , " H i s truth shall be thy shield a n d b u c k l e r , "
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78
within a r a m p a r t and strong fortress, he receives the vain assaults, and frustrates the darts of unprincipled men, ( I X , 2 1 5 )
and we note overtones from the passage of Ephesians referred to by Lilburne and from the Psalms. 3 1 Other images of darts or arrows are probably, though not explicitly, Biblical : these miseries . . . are still his [ K i n g C h a r l e s ' s ] o w n handy w o r k , having smitt'n them like a forked A r r o w so sore into the K i n g d o m s sides, as not to be d r a w n out and c u r ' d w i t h o u t the incision of more flesh,
{Eikon.,
V,
169)
A second source of war images is the less violent controversy of academic debate, in which a large number are introduced as rhetorical heightening. One such image is found in Prolusion IV. When setting forth the arguments for and against the thesis that "In the destruction of any thing a resolution to primary matter does not occur," he enlivens his highly abstract material in this way: A t this moment the battle becomes violent and victory s w a y s to and fro, for they rush into the struggle a n e w in this fashion. ( X I I ,
187)
Finally, others spring naturally from the theme of the work in which they are found: the struggle of Satan against God in Paradise Lost, or of Satan against Christ in Paradise Regained. For instance, in his soliloquy at the opening of Book I V of Paradise Lost Satan rejects the thought that he might be readmitted to God's grace, F o r never can true reconcilement g r o w W h e r e w o u n d s of deadly hate have peirc'd so deep. ( I I ,
110)
Yet while some of Milton's war images may be accounted for on these various grounds, a large number remain, too detailed and technical to be so explained. Their range is very wide; in addition to the rather conventional ones, 51 Psalm 1 8 : 2 , " T h e Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower." Other fortress images are in Psalms 3 1 : 3 , 7 1 : 3, 9 1 : 2 , and 1 4 4 : 2.
Travel and War
19 22
already considered, of weapons and armor, and of wounding, arming, and disarming, they include nearly all the activities of w a r : the assembly of the army, the army on the march and in camp, fortresses and arsenals and the methods of besieging and attacking them, the maneuvers of the army on the battlefield, and the various phases of individual combat. By merely making a selection f r o m them we can construct an almost complete campaign, beginning with the declaration of war, and concluding with the treaty of peace. T h e proclamation of war 23 is accompanied with the traditional ceremonies: [England has had the] honour from G O D to bee the first that should set up a Standard for the recovery of lost Truth, and blow the first Evangelick Trumpet to the Nations.-* (Ref., III, 5)
At this spot the army assembles : as Armies at the call O f T r u m p e t (for of Armies thou hast heard) T r o o p to thir Standard, so the watrie throng, W a v e rowling after W a v e [hastens to the ocean] ; ( P.L., [ A t the Reformation came] the Princes and Cities the new erected Banner of Salvation. (Ref., I I I , 5 )
II, 2 2 2 )
trooping apace to
Once it has been levied and mustered, the army proceeds to invade enemy territory : [ M i l t o n learned that M o r e was collecting material to renew the controversy] either unable to place reliance upon the forces [letters of recommendation] which, by hard stripes he had levied upon the Genevese, or, thinking that with so small a body, he was not sufficiently pre22 Except for one highly original and successful figure: [Those who] "set forth new positions . . . were they but as the dust and cinders of our feet, so long as in that notion they may yet serve to polish and brighten the armoury of T r u t h [they should be u s e d ] " (Areo., IV, 351). 23 Once Milton speaks of proclaiming a fire-cross, the method of beginning a Scottish clan war, and once of proclaiming a crusade (Chapter 6, image attacking H a l l ) . 24 T h i s passage was written before K i n g Charles raised his s t a n d a r d in just this fashion at Nottingham, August 23, 1643. Compare Paradise Lost, Bk. I, 11. 431-540; Bk. II, 11. 985-986. See also Jeremiah 51:27, "Set ye up a standard in the land, blow the trumpet among the nations."
8o
Travel and W a r
pared to decide the contest by a single battle, that he was busy in raising by conscription, in France, a fresh army to be employed against me . . . and that consuls and even tipstaves 2 5 were approaching with a mighty host, and the display of hostile banners. A t last, though long in coming, these new-raised troops stole in sight ; and till they came up, the first array was seen, I suspect, to give ground, and to break. N o w should any one wonder at the late appearance of this last levy of letters; that they should advance so slowly under the conduct of a man of so ready a w i t ; be it known that there were certain letters of the dead to be dug up from the repositories where they had long been at rest. Moreover, these consular reinforcements, with all their weight of armour, and with a laudable attention to the roads, were . . . " t o be sent from F r a n c e . " (Def. of Him., I X , 2 2 9 - 2 3 1 ) Scounts reconnoiter the country and the opposing f o r c e s : how can we more safely, and with lesse danger scout into the regions of sin and falsity then by reading all manner of tractats and hearing all manner of reason? ( A r e o . , I V , 3 1 1 - 3 1 2 ) [ S a t a n ] Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this W o r l d at once. A s when a Scout Through dark and desart wayes with peril gone A l l night ; at last by break of chearful dawne Obtains the brow of some high-climbing H i l l , Which to his eye discovers unaware T h e goodly prospect of some forein land First-seen, or some renown'd Metropolis W i t h glistering Spires and Pinnacles adornd, W h i c h now the Rising Sun guilds with his beams. Such wonder seis'd, though after Heaven seen, T h e Spirit maligne, but much more envy seis'd A t sight of all this W o r l d beheld so faire. ( P . L . , I I , 9 6 - 9 7 ) [ M i l t o n has looked over M o r e ' s arguments] W e have now also reconnoitred the whole of your forces, together with the supplement; and they are numerous enough no doubt, but, in truth, were collected for show, rather than for real strength. (Def. of Him., I X , 269) T h i s i n v a d i n g a r m y must not be encumbered w i t h too g r e a t a supply train, and must be a l w a y s on the alert, because otherwise 25
it m a y
find
itself
Columbia edition reads " t i p t a v e s . "
unexpectedly
involved
in
a
Travel and W a r
81
s k i r m i s h w i t h hostile l i g h t c a v a l r y o r o t h e r t r o o p s , o r even ambushed : You are not arm'd Remonstrant, nor any of your band, you are not dieted, nor your loynes girt for spirituali valour, and Christian warfare, the luggage is too great that followes your Camp ; your hearts are there, you march heavily. (Anim., I l l , n o ) neglecting the maine bulk of all that specious antiquity . . . I chose rather to observe some kinde of military advantages to await him [Remonstrant] at his forragings, at his watrings, and when ever he felt himself e secure; {A pol., I I I , 285) [Some writings lead people] from their strong guards, and places of safety under the tuition of holy writ . . . [ I thought I should] endeavour to recall the people of G O D from this vaine forraging after straw, and to reduce them to their firme stations under the standard of the Gospell; (Prelat. Epis., I I I , 8 2 - 8 3 ) schismaticks with whom the Prélats hold such hot skirmish ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 5 ) bishops not totally remov'd, but left as it were in ambush, a reserve. (Ready & Easy Way, V I , 1 1 5 ) W h e n it is n e c e s s a r y to establish a c a m p , p e r h a p s w i n t e r q u a r t e r s , e n g i n e e r s must be sent a h e a d to p r e p a r e the f o r t i fications,
sentries must be p o s t e d a n d k e p t a w a k e , a n d the
w a t c h w o r d set : [For the building of Pandaemonium] A numerous Brigad hasten'd. As when Bands Of Pioners with Spade and Pickax arm'd Forerun the Royal Camp, to trench a Field, O r cast a Rampart ; ( P . L . , I I , 3 2 ) [Samson's strength has returned] with his hair Garrison'd round about him like a Camp Of faithful Souldiery. (S.A., I, 390) [After Satan has addressed his followers on the burning lake] up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. ( P . L . , I I , 20)
82
Travel and War let them not bring about their damned designes that stand
O now at the entrance of the bottomlesse pit expecting the W a t c h - w o r d to open and let out those d r e a d f u l l [ e v i l s ] . I I I , 76)
{Ref.,
A n invading army will certainly encounter an occasional fortress, 2 6 strongly situated, well stocked, and stoutly defended : 27 A s when a spark Lights on a heap of nitrous P o w d e r , laid F i t f o r the T u n some M a g a z i n to store Against a rumord W a r r , the Smuttie graine W i t h sudden blaze diffus'd, inflames the A i r e : So started up in his own shape the Fiend. ( P . L . , I I , 1 3 5 ) [Censorship w i l l make a clergyman lazy. T h e r e is an abundance of sermons already printed] so that penury he never need f e a r of Pulpit provision, having where so plenteously to refresh his magazin. B u t if his rear and flanks be not impal'd, if his back dore be not secur'd by the rigid licencer, but that a bold book may now and then issue forth, and give the assault to some of his old collections in their trenches, it will concern him then to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good guards and sentinells about his receiv'd opinions, to w a l k the round and counter-round w i t h his f e l l o w inspectors, fearing lest any of his flock be seduc't, w h o also then w o u l d be better instructed, better exercis'd and disciplin'd. (AreoIV, 3 3 5 - 3 3 6 )
Such a fortress must be besieged and reduced : H e a r w h a t assaults I had [to make me betray y o u ] . . . W h a t sieges girt me round, e're I consented. I, 3 6 7 )
(S.A.,
w h o can be a greater enemy to M a n k i n d . . . then he w h o defending a traditionall corruption . . . driven f r o m much of his hold in Scripture . . . as if he had the surety of some rouling trench, creeps up by this meanes to his relinquish't fortresse of divine authority againe . . . and . . . traînes on the easie Christian insensibly within the close ambushment of w o r s t errors. I l l , 106)
(Anim.,
[Bishops are] mining, and sapping the out-works, and redoubts of
Monarchy. (Ref., III, 56) 26
A l s o : n a t c h - t o w e r , citadel, stronghold, castle, m a g a z i n e , and a r s e n a l . B y palisades, impalements, breastworks, b a r r i c a d e s , r a m p a r t s , mounds, b u l w a r k s , or w a l l s . 2T
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83
His next attempt is upon the Arguments [of M i l t o n ] . . . for the first, not finding it of that structure, as to bee scal'd with his short ladder, hee retreats; {Colasi., I V , 254) [Satan looks across chaos]. N o r was his eare less peal'd W i t h noises loud and ruinous (to compare G r e a t things with small) then when Bellona storms, W i t h all her battering Engines bent to rase Som Capital C i t y ; ( P . L . , I I , 70) [Satan's attempt on man] like a devillish Engine back recoiles Upon himself; (P.L., I I , 107) [Satan says that his revenge] back on it self recoiles ; L e t i t ; I reck not, so it light well aim'd, Since higher I fall short, on [ m a n ] . ( P . L . , I I , 266) O n c e the stronghold h a s been f o r c e d to surrender, the a r m y m a y c o n t i n u e its a d v a n c e u n t i l it c o m e s u p w i t h t h e
main
f o r c e of the enemy. I f this f o r c e occupies a naturally s t r o n g p o s i t i o n , it m a y r e f u s e a n e n g a g e m e n t : [ W h e n a man has] furnisht out his findings in all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a battell raung'd, scatter'd and defeated all objections in his way, calls out his adversary into the plain, offers him the advantage of wind and sun, if he please ; only that he may try the matter by dint of argument, for his opponents then to sculk, to lay ambushments, to keep a narrow bridge of licencing where the challenger should passe, though it be valour anough in shouldiership, is but weaknes and cowardise in the wars of T r u t h . ( A r e o . , I V , 3 4 7 - 3 4 8 ) O t h e r w i s e , t h e issue is j o i n e d o n t h e field o f b a t t l e : [Since K i n g Charles has left Eikon Basilike as the chief defence of his cause] it would argue doubtless in the other party great deficience and distrust of themselves, not to meet the force of his reason in any field whatsoever, the force and equipage of whose Armes they have so oft'n met victoriously. {Eikon., V , 66) A t t h i s p o i n t , h o w e v e r , it is n o t p o s s i b l e t o b u i l d u p a c o n s i s t e n t p i c t u r e o f a b a t t l e , since M i l t o n ' s i m a g e s a r e o f i n d i v i d u a l as w e l l a s m a s s
fighting
those
and range over R o m a n ,
medieval, and Renaissance times. T h o s e of individual com-
84
Travel and War
b a t i n c l u d e : t o h o v e r f o r an a t t a c k , t o find c o u r a g e t o g i v e the
first
onset, to withstand
an o p p o n e n t ' s c h a r g e , t o
ex-
p e r i e n c e d i f f i c u l t y in m a i n t a i n i n g o n e ' s g r o u n d , t o fight h a n d to hand, to g r a p p l e together, to be a r a w recruit
engaging
a v e t e r a n , t o v a n q u i s h and t r e a d u n d e r f o o t an e n e m y ,
to
l a y l o w a n e n e m y a n d d e c k o n e s e l f w i t h his s p o i l s . A l l t h e s e i m a g e s a r e in g e n e r a l t e r m s a n d m i g h t a p p l y t o a n y p e r i o d . M a n y o t h e r s are specifically m e d i e v a l : to p r o v i d e a champion : the spacious Hall [of Pandaemonium] ( T h o u g h like a cover'd field, where Champions bold W o n t ride in arm'd, and at the Soldans chair Defi'd the best of Partim chivalry T o mortal combat or carreer with Lance) T h i c k swarm'd ; ( P . L . , II, 35) [Since no worthier adversary makes his appearance] such as yee turn him forth at the Postern, I must accept him. (Colasi., I V , 240) t o t a k e u p t h e g a u n t l e t , e n t e r t h e l i s t s , a n d fight t h e r e : [ A faithful performance of ministerial duties] had beene a better confutation of the Pope and Masse than . . . all this careering with speare in rest and thundering upon the Steele cap of Baronius or Bellarmine ; (Anim., I l l , 1 7 5 ) N o wonder then in the reforming of a Church which is never brought to effect without the fierce encounter of truth and falshood together, if, as it were the splinters and shares of so violent a jousting, there fall from between the shock many fond errors and fanatick opinions. {R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 224) to shoot bolts f r o m a cross-bow or catapult : [ I do not fear the loss of my reputation when I consider the] ridiculous aiming of these his [Remonstrant's] slanderous bolts shot so wide of any suspicion to be fastn'd on me; (Apol., I I I , 283) Forc't vertue is as a bolt overshot, it goes neither forward nor backward, and does no good as it stands. ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 495) O t h e r s h o o t i n g is, s p e c i f i c a l l y o r b y i m p l i c a t i o n , t h a t o f t h e Renaissance :
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But if your meaning be with a violent and bold Hyperbaton to transpose the Text, as if the Words lay thus in order . . . this were a construction like a Harquebute shot over a File of words twelve deep without authority to bid them stoop; (Anim., I l l , 149) Cavaliers . . . whose mouthes let fly Oaths and Curses by the voley. (Eikon., V , 168) In one final figure in this group, Milton's anger at the bishops needs for its expression the full scope afforded by both past and present : if . . . a tyrant . . . should come to grasp the Scepter, here [in the bishops] were his speare men and his lances, here were his firelocks ready, he should need no other pretorian band nor pensionry then these. (R. Ch. Gov., I I I , 2 7 i ) T h e images involving mass fighting by the whole army are particularly Miltonic. T h i s army, generally thought of in classical terms, must first be drawn up in the order of battle, which, once established, should not be changed: though he strive with all his might, he shall find how easily I will rout and overwhelm him, once I get . . . [my authorities] marshaled out in battle array ; (First Def., V I I , 203) [Scholars] must proceed by the steddy pace of learning onward, as at convenient times for memories sake to retire back into the middle ward, and sometimes into the rear of what they have been taught, untili they have . . . solidly united the whole body of the perfeted knowledge, like the last embattelling of a Roman Legion ; (Educ., I V , 287) [Every parish consistory is] as it were a little Synod, and towards a generali assembly moving upon her own basis in an even and firme progression, as those smaller squares in battell unite in one great cube, the main phalanx, an embleme of truth and stedfastnesse ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 7 ) [ W e should not now attempt to set up the ideal form of a Senate] T h e much better way doubtless will be in this wavering condition of our affairs, to deferr the changing or circumscribing of our [present] Senat, more then may be done with ease . . . Militane men hold it dangerous to change the form of battel in view of an enemie. (Ready & Easy Way, V I , 1 3 1 )
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W h e n the armies are in position, the fighting begins, proceeding until one of the opposing f o r c e s is d e f e a t e d and surrenders : [Your wife threatened you, Salmasius] Wherefore you preferred to write rather than the trumpets should sound the charge! (First Def., V I I , 549) to give them [opponents of church reformation] play front, and reare, it shall be my task to prove that Episcopacy [is not necessary to monarchy] ; (Ref., I I I , 4 i ) thir shift of turning this Law into a custom wheels about, and gives the onset upon thir own flanks ; ( Tetra., IV, i l l ) [The opponent of the Parliamentary party thinks that its divided opinions are sources of weakness, and he will not] beware untili he see our small divided maniples cutting through at every angle of his ill united and unweildy brigade; (Area., I V , 343) [At the edge of the universe] Nature first begins Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire As from her outmost works a brok'n foe With tumult less and with less hostile din: (P.L., II, 75) Then to com in spight of sorrow, And at my window bid good morrow . . . While the Cock with lively din, Scatters the rear of darknes thin; (L'Ali., I, 36) with forces broken and scattered, you [Morus] wander about you know not whither, now in this direction, now in that, then retrace your steps ; not aware how close up with you in this loose array is your enemy, and with vigour unimpaired, hangs upon your rear to surprise you foraging. (Def. of Him., I X , 93) [Those who read Milton's First Defence] vanquished by truth, surrender themselves captive. (Sec. Def., V I I I , 1 5 ) T h e negotiations f o r the treaty of peace f o l l o w : [It is an indignity if Justice] should compound and treat with sin her eternal adversary and rebel, upon ignoble terms ; (Doct. Div., I l l , 473 ) [King Charles] who took so hainously to be offer'd nineteen Propositions from the Parlament, capitulates heer [in his prayer] with God almost in as many Articles. (Eikon., V, 266)
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The extensive information contained in these images could not have been casually acquired. Doubtless it resulted in part from Milton's interest in the struggle then going on in England and in Europe, and from his concern for the cause of true religion and liberty. A s is the case with us in our day, Milton must have absorbed a good deal of military information merely by keeping posted on current events. In many of his images, however, as we have seen, he thinks in technical terms that he uses exactly and that often refer to the past. Here we see a reflection of his systematic and intensive reading of history (nothing is so conspicuous in the historians whom he mastered as the almost incessant fighting that they record) and of military science.28 T h a t he felt the great importance of military knowledge is evident from other sources than the imagery. In his Of Education he states that education should fit a man f o r leadership in both peace and w a r ; he includes in the curriculum fortification, enginery (the art of the military engineer), and medicine, the latter science for the purpose of enabling an officer to preserve the health of his army; and he provides for military drill both on foot and on horseback to allow the students to gain experience in "all the skill of Embattelling, Marching, Encamping, Fortifying, Besieging, and Battering, with all the helps of ancient and modern strategems, Tacticks and warlike maxims." 29 H e applied these principles of education by including military books in the reading required of his own pupils. Such principles were part of his "attempt to carry out consistently in a definite educational program the humanistic ideal, so nobly formulated by the scholars, philosophers, and poets of the Renaissance, of a trained leadership in which practical skill [including mili2» See Hanford, "Milton and the A r t of W a r , " SP., X V I I I , 212-266. Since the first d r a f t of this chapter w a s written before H a n f o r d ' s article w a s read, conclusions arrived at independently h a v e been allowed to stand without acknowl29 edgment. Of Education, I V , 289.
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tary m a t t e r s ] is integrated with and based on liberal cult u r e . " 30 Moreover, military knowledge was essential to M i l t o n in his preparation f o r his own career of an epic poet who would enlighten and uplift his own time. 3 1 Hence, he studied the standard classic, Renaissance, and contemporary treatises that dealt with the techniques of w a r f a r e and with the b r o a d e r questions of its discipline, morale, and philosophic or religious basis. 32 T h e question of whether or not this comprehensive theoretical knowledge was supplemented by firsthand experience is settled by his statement in the Second Defence that he avoided the toils and perils of war only to toil in another way with no less peril, and that, setting an inferior value on the service of the camp, he betook himself to occupations in which his services would be of greater use. 33 H e must, however, have been an eyewitness to a good deal of military activity. Before the actual outbreak of civil war the citizens of London were forming what amounted to militia regiments, the London T r a i n e d Bands, and were drilling in the City Artillery Ground. 3 4 T h a t Milton had at least watched these drills, had indeed observed them closely, is evident f r o m one elaborate figure : Divines . . . have thir postures, and thir motions no less expertly, and with no less variety then they that practice feats in the Artillery-ground. Sometimes they seem furiously to march on, and presently march counter ; by and by they stand, and then retreat ; or if need be can face about, or wheele in a whole body, with that cunning and dexterity as is almost unperceavable ; to winde themselves by shifting ground into places of more advantage. And Providence onely must be the drumm, Providence 30
31 H a n f o r d , op. cit., pp. 2 3 3 - 2 3 4 . Ibid., p. 234. Classic (including contemporary editions): Xenophon, / E l i a n , C a e s a r , Frontinus, etc.; Renaissance: M a c h i a v e l l i , Arte della Guerra, etc.; contempor a r y : Robert W a r d , Animadversions of ffarre. See H a n f o r d , op. cit., pp. 2 3 3 242. 33 Quoted in Chapter 6, in the discussion of Milton and Cicero. Masson o v e r looked this passage and therefore spent a great deal of time needlessly m a r shaling evidence and arguments to prove the point. See also H a n f o r d , op. cit., 34 pp. 242-245. Masson, Life of Milton, I I , 402. 32
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the word of command, that calls them from above, but always to som larger Benefice, or acts them into such or such figures, and promotions. At thir turnes and doublings no men readier ; to the right, or to the left ; for it is thir turnes which they serve cheifly ; heerin only singular ; that with them there is no certain hand right or left ; but as thir own commodity thinks best to call it. ( Tenure, V , 56) Milton's interest in these evolutions and admiration for them are obvious. 35 In addition, his descriptions in Paradise Lost of the maneuvers of Satan's followers in hell, of the angelic guard in the Garden of Eden, and of the rival armies in the battle in heaven also make clear his knowledge of such company and battalion drill, parade, and review, as well as the pike-manual. 36 T h e need for such preparation was soon demonstrated when London, during the first part of the war, had its narrowest escape. A f t e r the battle of Edgehill, October 2 3 , 1 6 4 2 , the road to the city lay open to the King, and f o r some weeks he was expected to attack. Accordingly, improvised defences were hastily thrown up: trenches were dug, guard houses erected, bars and chains stretched across the streets. Milton could not have avoided knowing about and seeing what went on. Apparently one detail is still fresh in 35 M a s s o n believes that Milton drilled himself because of his knowledge of details too specific to be otherwise acquired, and because of a non-figurative passage f r o m Apology, published early in 1642 and therefore recording events of 1641 : [ E v e r y morning Milton first r e a d s ] " T h e n with useful! and generous labours p r e s e r v i n g the bodies health, and hardinesse; to render lightsome, cleare, and not lumpish obedience to the minde, to the cause of religion, and our Countries liberty, when it shall require firme hearts in sound bodies to stand and c o v e r their stations, rather then to see the ruine of our Protestation, and the inforcement of a slavish l i f e . " {Apol., I I I , 299) M a s s o n comments: " T h i s is interesting; Milton, it seems, has f o r some time been practising d r i l l ! " (op. cit., II, 402). H o w e v e r , the passage clearly means that Milton w a s merely taking some sort of vigorous and systematic exercise. His station w a s not to be in the camp. H a n f o r d (op. cit., pp. 242-243) shows that men of Milton's position were not expected to, and did not serve except as officers. 36 For a discussion of the military allusions in Milton's writing see H a n f o r d , op. cit., pp. 248-262.
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his memory many y e a r s later. A f t e r Satan has addressed his f o l l o w e r s on the burning lake up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. (P.L., I I , 20) T h i s is not the sort of incident that is likely to be found in M i l t o n ' s r e a d i n g ; on the other hand, anyone with military experience will at once recognize its authenticity, and r a w recruits such as w e r e then defending L o n d o n are precisely the kind of soldiers most likely to f a l l asleep on watch. T h e picture of the sentries instinctively leaping to their feet almost b e f o r e their eyes are open, only to find the enemy o r the officer of the g u a r d upon them, is v e r y convincing. 3 7 P e r h a p s M i l t o n w a s told of the occurrence—it is the sort of thing that is talked about in any w a r — b u t the most reasonable explanation of it seems to be that he w a s present himself on some occasion when the g u a r d w a s roused by a f a l s e a l a r m o r an inspection. T h e culmination of all this military activity was the curious incident of T u r n h a m Green, a place a f e w miles outside of L o n d o n , where the K i n g ' s army approaching f r o m the west met the P a r l i a m e n t a r y army, reinforced by the L o n d o n T r a i n e d B a n d s and other regiments, on N o vember 1 3 , 1 6 4 2 . F o r twenty-four hours the two armies f a c e d one another and then marched a w a y in opposite directions without h a v i n g fired a shot. If M i l t o n had been present, such an experience could h a r d l y h a v e f a i l e d to make a deep impression on him as being his nearest approach to actual battle. H o w e v e r , no allusion to this episode appears 37 T h e p a s s a g e can be r e a d in two w a y s : Satan discovers the f a l l e n angels prostrate on the lake, and they leap up as do sleeping sentries caught by their superior officer; on the other hand, S a t a n has just ended his exhortation of them with the suggestion that they m a y be permanently fixed there by their conquerors, whom, of course, they d r e a d . Either the f a l l e n angels are to Satan as the sentries a r e to an officer; or the f a l l e n angels are to G o d ' s angels as the sentries are to the enemy.
Travel and War in his i m a g e r y or a n y w h e r e else, and in any case it would be highly unlikely that he would be present among the spectators who accompanied the regiments. 3 8 H i s knowledge of soldiership remains that of a student and an observer of no more than drill and is indicative of a certain detachment on his p a r t . T h i s aloofness is f u r t h e r emphasized by the f a c t that there is only one image based upon a specific incident of the w a r . T h i s is f o u n d in Eikonoklastes, w h e r e M i l t o n , in rebutting K i n g C h a r l e s ' s account of his actions, naturally focusses his attention on the course of hostilities : A s for that Protestation following . . . [unless K i n g C h a r l e s ] thought himself still in that perfidious mist, between Colebrook and Houndslotv, and thought that mist could hide him from the eye of H e a v ' n as well as of M a n . . . how could this . . . be utter'd?
(EikonV,
240)
T h e reference is to Prince R u p e r t ' s attack on B r e n t f o r d , N o v e m b e r 1 2 , 1 6 4 2 , while negotiations w e r e in progress between the K i n g and P a r l i a m e n t f o r a cessation of hostilities. T h i s attack w a s r e g a r d e d by P a r l i a m e n t as an act of duplicity. A second reference is probably, though not certainly, to the excesses of the Puritan zealots on various occasions : 3 9 this clause . . . [of scripture w a s inserted] against the foreseene rashnesse of common textuaries, w h o abolish lawes, as the rabie demolish images, in the zeale of their hammers oft violating the Sepulchers of good
men. {Tetra., IV, 139) Considered broadly, these images of t r a v e l and of w a r bring us by a different approach to the same central f a c t of M i l t o n ' s character that we h a v e a l r e a d y encountered—his " M a s s o n argues (op. eil., II, 486-487) that the title of Milton's sonnet "When the Assault W a s Intended to the City" and its text show that Milton was in his house on that evening. T h i s argument has no weight, since it assumes that Milton wrote the poem on the very evening in question. Poetry is seldom so written. ** For images from earlier English history see Chapter 6.
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core of resistance to outside pressure. His ideal life was an arduous one, a struggle upward to the heights, in which he would have been glad of other men's company and toward which he urged them; but their refusal to leave the plains did not deter him from setting out by himself. There was about him an element of withdrawal, of reserve, of selfsufficiency. His sonnet "When the Assault was Intended to the City," though not to be taken literally, still makes a distinction between himself and the rest of the world. His withdrawal was not, however, mere negation. He remained true to his great moral aim of serving his country with his pen even in the midst of civil war. Deeply stirred as he was by the religious and political bases of that war, he viewed it in the large perspective of history, and was as apt to think in terms of Thermopylae as of Naseby. Abandoning his great poem, he did not enlist in the army for which he quite rightly felt he was not fitted.40 H e wrote prose with his " l e f t hand," but he wrote—on questions that were important to him whether or not they were of contemporary significance. Many of his pamphlets were, of course, concerned with matters of current interest, but divorce had nothing to do with the exigencies of 1 6 4 3 , and Areopagitica, arguing against a specific Act of Parliament, dealt with basic principles that went f a r beyond the immediate issue. H e gave himself to no party. H e joined Cromwell's military dictatorship because it was the only bulwark between England and the worse tyranny of another Stuart king, and his praise, in his First and Second Defences, of Cromwell and his associates sounds less like that of a subordinate in the government than like that of an equal sovereign power. In the last analysis, Milton could do nothing that was irrelevant to his purpose. H e had always to be about his Great Taskmaster's business. 40 Hanford, op. cit., pp. 244-245. Hanford feels, however, that Milton may have been considered for the post of adjutant general to Sir William Waller, doubtless "some important semi-civilian function on the general staff." Op. cit., pp. 247-248.
CHAPTER
4
Nature P to this point we have limited ourselves to Milton's reaction to his social environment: his life as a citizen of London, as a family man, as a traveler, and as a participant in a civil war. W e must now move f r o m the world of man to the world of nature and consider both the images based upon his reaction to the surface of natural phenomena and the more basic images t h a t embody his philosophy of nature. In these philosophic images, n a t u r e is considered under two aspects : as the material universe, natura naturata, and also as the source of life, natura naturans, the creating and directing force behind the material universe. Once again we come to a problem that lies to a large extent outside the range of imagery alone and that is also complicated by difficulties of definition. Nevertheless, Milton's fundamental position is clear. H e thought of nature, both the material universe and its laws, as the creation of God. H e never thought of it as f a t e or chance, or as a thing in itself, an impersonal machine. T w o non-figurative passages of abstract definition f r o m Christian Doctrine prove this point, which is essential to the correct interpretation of such images as Milton does use : There can be no doubt that every thing in the world, by the beauty of its order, and the evidence of a determinate and beneficial purpose which pervades it, testifies that some supreme efficient Power must have preexisted, by which the whole was ordained for a specific end. There are some who pretend that nature or fate is this supreme Power : but the very name of nature implies that it must owe its birth to some prior agent, or, to speak properly, signifies in itself nothing ; but means either the essence of a thing, or that general law which is the origin of every
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thing, and under which every thing acts; on the other hand, fate can be nothing but a divine decree emanating from some almighty power. Further, those who attribute the creation of every thing to nature, must necessarily associate chance with nature as a joint divinity ; so that they gain nothing by this theory, except that in the place of that one God, whom they cannot tolerate, they are obliged, however reluctantly, to substitute two sovereign rulers of affairs, who must almost always be in opposition to each other. In short, many visible proofs, the verification of numberless predictions, a multitude of wonderful works have compelled all nations to believe, either that God, or that some evil power whose name was unknown, presided over the affairs of the world. Now that evil should prevail over good, and be the true supreme power, is as unmeet as it is incredible. Hence it follows as a necessary consequence, that God exists. ( X I V , 2 7 - 2 9 ) T h e providence of God is either ordinary or extraordinary. His ordinary providence is that whereby he upholds and preserves the immutable order of causes appointed by him in the beginning. This is commonly, and indeed too frequently, described by the name of nature ; for nature cannot possibly mean anything but the mysterious power and efficacy of that divine voice which went forth in the beginning, and to which, as to a perpetual command, all things have since paid obedience. ( X V , 93) T u r n i n g now to the images themselves, we find that the material universe, natura naturata,
thus created by G o d , w a s
shaped f r o m the disorder of preexisting darkness and chaos : 1 a dark Illimitable Ocean without bound, Without dimension, where length, breadth, & highth, And time and place are lost ; where eldest Night And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal Anarchie. (P.L., I I , 69) Nature, as the system of l a w and order, is the enemy of confusion : Trust this man, Readers if you please, whose divinity would reconcile England with Rome, and his philosophy make friends nature with the Chaos. (Anim., Ill, 114) 1 The origin of chaos is God (Ch. Doct. XV, 15-27).
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But now at last the sacred influence O f light appears, and from the walls of Heav'n Shoots farr into the bosom of dim Night A glimmering dawn ; here Nature first begins Her fardest verge, and Chaos to retire A s from her outmost works a brok'n foe. ( P . L . , I I , 7 4 - 7 5 )
T h i s victory of nature may, however, be only temporary. When human history has run its course, nature may lapse again into original chaos, this wilde Abyss, T h e W o m b of nature and perhaps her Grave. ( P . L · . , I I , 7 0 )
M o r e o v e r , nature, conscious of being the creature of G o d , is humble before him and eagerly subservient to him: at Christ's birth, Nature in awe to him Had doff't her gawdy trim, W i t h her great Master so to sympathize . . . Confounded, that her Makers eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities; (Nat.
Ode, I, 2 )
at the temptation, Satan offers the banquet as the tribute of nature to C h r i s t : Nature asham'd, or better to express, Troubl'd that thou shouldst hunger, hath purvey'd From all the Elements her choicest store T o treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord With honour. ( P . R . , II, 4 3 6 )
T h e same concepts underlie Milton's treatment of natura naturans, the creative power of the universe. T h i s power is great : the air and the elements are nature's eldest births ; 2 in the garden of Eden she pours forth a wilderness of flowers and sweets, growing more f r u i t f u l when she is disburdened of them; she caters to all men with the abundance of her provisions. T h e s e and the other works of nature are har2 T h e r e are many personifications of Mother Nature, some of them quite elaborate, and similar personifications of Mother E a r t h .
ç6
Nature
monious and proportional. In contemplating the stars A d a m cannot understand H o w Nature wise and frugal could commit Such disproportions, with superfluous hand So many nobler Bodies to create, Greater so manifold to this one use [of lighting the world] ; ( P . L . , I I , 2 3 6 )
he fears that in creating E v e nature erred to some extent : [ I am] here onely weake Against the charm of Beauties powerful glance. O r Nature faild in mee, and left some part Not proof enough such Object to sustain, O r from my side subducting, took perhaps More then enough, ( P . L . , I I , 2 5 4 )
but is corrected by Raphael f o r both these speculations : Accuse not Nature, she hath don her part.* ( P . L · . , I I , 2 5 5 )
In addition, nature behaves in a morally acceptable manner. When A d a m and E v e eat the apple, nature recognizes their sin and gives signs of w o e ; nature is wrongly blamed f o r turpitude and sluggishness in virtuous actions; she rejoices with heaven and earth in the spring, and so on. 4 T h e other aspect of natura naturans—the directing force, the " l a w of nature," behind the material universe as well as in the heart of man—is hardly represented by the imagery. Milton's position, however, is set forth in a figure of light: 3 One apparent contradiction is hardly to be taken literally. In the paradise of fools are found A l l th'unaccomplisht w o r k s of Natures hand, Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixt. (P.L., I I , 93) Milton is probably being not philosophic but g r i m l y humorous when he remarks that the embryos and idiots, eremites and f r i a r s , and their f e l l o w s are unnatural mixtures. 4 Nature as a whole is often associated with v a r i o u s constituent p a r t s : Earth trembl'd f r o m her entrails, as a g a i n In pangs, and N a t u r e g a v e a second g r o a n , Sky lowr'd, and muttering T h u n d e r , som sad drops Wept. (P.L., I I , 296)
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97
T H E L A W O F G O D is cither written or unwritten. The unwritten law is no other than that law of nature given originally to Adam, and of which a certain remnant, or imperfect illumination, still dwells in the hearts of all mankind ; which, in the regenerate, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, is daily tending towards a renewal of its primitive
brightness. (Ch. Doct., XVI,
ιοί)
This unwritten law, the law of nature, is, as we have seen, a force f o r good, having "guiltles instinct" and "sage motions," 5 and the higher authority of the written law, that is of Scripture, does not contradict but supplements and strengthens it.® In thus considering nature in all its aspects as an expression of the will of God, Milton was thinking in terms of standard seventeenth century Protestant theology. H e also shared with his contemporaries a belief in a universe intricately organized. This belief was made vivid in the figure, deriving ultimately from Plato's Timacus, of a chain of being. "This metaphor served to express the unimaginable plenitude of God's creation, its unfaltering order, and its ultimate unity. T h e chain stretched from the foot of God's throne to the meanest of inanimate objects. Every speck of creation was a link in the chain, and every link except those at the two extremities was simultaneously bigger and smaller than another: there could be no gap. T h e precise magnitude of the chain raised metaphysical difficulties; but the safest opinion made it short of infinity though of a finitude quite outside man's imagination." 7 This doctrine had various complicated theological implications about which Milton did not have wholly consistent opinions. 8 H e did, however, feel the poetic richness of the idea and made use of 5
Doct. Div., I l l , 500. »R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 197; Doct. Div., I l l , 419, 476, 481-482; Tetra., IV, 134, 135; Ch. Doct., XV, 173. 7 E. M. W . Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture (New York, 1944), Ρ· *3· 8 Arthur O. Lovejoy, The Great Chain of Being (Cambridge, Mass., 1936), pp. 160-165.
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98
it with great success in several passages, once with the aid of a fine i m a g e ; R a p h a e l explains to A d a m that all things proceed f r o m G o d and return to him, becoming " m o r e refin'd, more spiritous, and p u r e " as they approach him. So from the root Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves M o r e aerie, last the bright consummate floure Spirits odorous breathes. ( P . L . , I I , 1 6 1 )
In this chain o f being, man obviously had a unique and pivotal position since he served as a link between m a t t e r and spirit. " H e contained in himself samples of all the degrees of creation, excelling in this not only beasts but the angels, w h o were entirely spiritual beings. But it w a s not only a matter of including in himself these samples: man's very anatomy corresponded with the physical ordering of the universe. H i s f r a m e w a s compounded of the f o u r elements, and on the same principles as was the sublunary w o r l d . " 8 In the higher powers of mind and spirit there w a s a similar correspondence between man, the microcosm, and the universe, the macrocosm. T h e s e ideas account f o r three of M i l ton's images: an occasional failure to maintain conjugal love is rooted in blameless nature, For Nature hath her Zodiac also, keepes her great annual circuit over human things as truly as the Sun and Planets in the firmament ; hath her anomalies, hath her obliquities in ascensions and declinations, accesses and recesses, as blamelesly as they in heaven. A n d sitting in her planetary O r b with two rains in each hand, one strait, the other loos, tempers the cours of minds as well as bodies to several conjunctions and oppositions, freindly, or unfreindly aspects, consenting oftest with reason, but never contrary ; {Tetra., I V , 190)
a f t e r the fall, A d a m and E v e w e p t ; nor onely Teares Raind at thir Eyes, but high W i n d s worse within Began to rise, high Passions, A n g e r , Hate, Mistrust, Suspicion, Discord, and shook sore • T i l l y a r d , The Elizabethan
World
Picture,
pp. 62-63.
Nature
99
T h i r inward State of M i n d , calm Region once A n d full of Peace, now tost and turbulent. ( P . L . , I I , 3 0 0 ) S a t a n explained a w a y the tempest he h a d directed at C h r i s t : these flaws, though mortals fear them A s dangerous to the pillard frame of Heaven, O r to the Earths dark basis underneath, A r e to the main as inconsiderable, A n d harmless, if not wholsom, as a sneeze T o mans less universe, and soon are gone. ( P . R . , I I , 4 7 5 ) I t is evident, t h e r e f o r e , t h a t in his philosophical images of nature M i l t o n d r a w s upon the c o m m o n l y accepted ideas of his time, ideas that s u b o r d i n a t e d n a t u r e to G o d and that assigned to man an i m p o r t a n t place in the universe. A l s o typical, in m a n y respects, of the seventeenth
cen-
tury is his emotional response to w h a t W o r d s w o r t h calls T h e outward shows of sky and earth Of hill and valley. T h e r e is, of course, none of W o r d s w o r t h ' s mysticism in M i l ton, but neither is there W o r d s w o r t h ' s delight, s h a r e d by the other romantic w r i t e r s , in the w i l d o r magnificent aspects of nature. W o r d s w o r t h , f o r example, w h o t r a v e l e d through the A l p s , has much to say of their g r a n d e u r ; M i l t o n , w h o h a d the same experience, s a y s n o t h i n g . 1 0 I t is even possible t h a t he reacted as did his c o n t e m p o r a r y , J a m e s H o w e l l : I am now got over the Alps and returned to France. I had crossed and clambered up the Pyrenees to Spain before; they are not so high and hideous as the Alps, but for our mountains in Wales, as Eppint and Pen winmaur, which are so much cried up amongst u s , 1 1 they are molehills in comparison of these, they are but pigmies compared to giants, but blisters compared to impostumes, or pimples to warts. Besides our mountains in W a l e s bear always something useful to man or beast, 10
T h e lines in L'Allegro Mountains on whose barren brest T h e labouring clouds do often rest were written before he had ever seen a mountain. For an allusion to cold mountain air see Chapter 6, note 92. 11 For their size, not their beauty.
Nature
100
some grass at least ; but these uncouth huge monstrous excrescences of nature, bear nothing (most of them) but craggy stones. (Epistolae Ho-elianae, " T o Sir J. H., from Lyons," Vol. I, sec. ι ) A t any rate, M i l t o n includes in H e l l " m a n y a F r o z e n , many a fierie A l p e " and in the G a r d e n o f E d e n n o t h i n g m o r e r u g g e d than g e n t l y s l o p i n g hills. 1 2 In g e n e r a l , the
Euro-
p e a n l a n d s c a p e m a d e little impression on him, f o r he h a s v e r y f e w r e f e r e n c e s to it. T h e r e is the m e m o r y o f the Italian f o r e s t s in autumn : [Satan] stood and call'd His Legions, Angel Forms, who lay intrans't Thick as Autumnal Leaves that strow the Brooks In Vallombrosa, where th'Etrurian shades High overarch't imbowr. ( P . L . , II, 19) Y e t this is not in itself a scene peculiar to I t a l y ; he m i g h t as easily h a v e come upon it in E n g l a n d . A curious circumstance in connection w i t h this p a s s a g e is t h a t t o d a y , and as early as 1 7 8 9 , 1 3 the s t r e a m s at V a l l o m b r o s a could n o t be thickly covered w i t h l e a v e s because the h i g h o v e r a r c h i n g t r e e s consist almost entirely o f e v e r g r e e n s . P o s s i b l y he w a s characteristically using the p r o p e r n a m e s f o r their s o n o r o u s e f f e c t ; possibly his recollection of the exact locale of this experience f a i l e d h i m ; but m o r e p r o b a b l y at a time subsequent to his visit the c h a r a c t e r of the t i m b e r c h a n g e d f o r s o m e reason such as the cutting o f the f o r e s t s o r a fire. T h e a f t e r e f f e c t of such a fire f o r m s the basis of a n o t h e r simile which m a y be I t a l i a n in its setting. S a t a n ' s f o l l o w e r s on the plain of H e l l stood, Thir Glory witherd. A s when Heavens Fire Hath scath'd the Forrest Oaks, or Mountain Pines, With singed top thir stately growth though bare Stands on the blasted Heath. ( P . L . , II, 30) 12 13
T h e G a r d e n is, of course, itself elevated to provide seclusion. Milton's Poetical Works, ed. T o d d , II (1826), 49-50.
Nature
ιοί
T h i s is not easy to visualize, since mountain pines are represented as standing on a heath—relatively flat ground, though it may be high. P e r h a p s M i l t o n is thinking of an Alpine upland. 1 4 In one final scenic simile he almost certainly had such a spot in mind : as the G r e a t Consult ends with the plan f o r Satan's attack on man, T h u s they thir doubtful consultations dark Ended rejoycing in thir matchless C h i e f : A s when from mountain tops the dusky clouds Ascending, while the North wind sleeps, o'respread Heav'ns chearful face, the lowring Element Scowls ore the dark'nd lantskip Snow, or showre ; If chance the radiant Sun with farewell sweet Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive, T h e birds thir notes renew, and bleating herds Attest thir joy, that hill and valley rings. ( P . L . , II, 55)
I t will be observed that even when M i l t o n makes use of mountains, he does not think of them as b e a u t i f u l ; they are merely the spot where storms originate. 1 5 In Italy, Milton delighted not in the scenery but in the society. H e was charmed with his flattering reception by the Academies, where he met many celebreties. So f a r as the imagery is concerned, all this experience is illustrated by his three references to Galileo. As early as Areopagitica, he speaks of visiting " t h e famous Galileo grown old, a prisner to the Inquisition, f o r thinking in Astronomy otherwise then the Franciscan and Dominican licencers t h o u g h t . " 16 T h e implication here is that ignorant churchmen had suppressed 1 4 C r i t i c s s u g g e s t v a r i o u s l i t e r a r y p a r a l l e l s , p a r t i c u l a r l y a p a s s a g e in the Iliad ( X I V , 4 1 4 - 4 1 7 ) in w h i c h H e c t o r f a l l s b e n e a t h the b l o w of a rock as a n oak f a l l s u p r o o t e d b e n e a t h the stroke of Z e u s . T h e b l a s t e d heath, f u r t h e r m o r e , s u g g e s t s Macbeth. B u t the Iliad p a s s a g e c o n c e r n s a s i n g l e tree, a n d one t h a t is uprooted, not l e f t s t a n d i n g . N o n e of the s u g g e s t e d p a s s a g e s a r e close e n o u g h to m a k e it more likely f o r M i l t o n to h a v e d e r i v e d this i m a g e f r o m books t h a n from experience. ιΓ · M o u n t a i n s m a y r e p r e s e n t h a r d n e s s and i m m o v a b i l i t y : [ I f t h e r e is f r i g i d i t y ] "this a d a m a n t i n e Alpe of w e d l o c k h a s l e a v to d i s s o l v e . " (Tetra., I V , 88) i e I V , 330.
102
Nature
scientific truth. By the time Milton wrote Paradise Lost, however, this visit had come to have tragic personal associations. T h e old and blind poet was moved by the memory of his young self gazing upon the old and blind astronomer. This is, of course, speculation, for the images do not mention Galileo's blindness or his own. Yet it seems to suggest the only plausible reason f o r the emphasis on this one particular man. Certainly Milton does not accept Galileo's theories, or at least has grave doubts about them : the broad circumference [of Satan's shield] Hung on his shoulders like the Moon, whose Orb Through Optic Glass the Tuscan Artist views A t Ev'ning from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdamo, to descry new Lands, Rivers or Mountains in her spotty Globe ; (P.L., II, 18) [From the gates of Heaven Raphael sees] Earth and the Gard'n of God, with Cedars crownd Above all Hills. As when by night the Glass Of Galileo, less assur'd, observes Imagind Lands and Regions in the Moon; ( P . L . , II, 1 5 3 )
T h e scientist may be searching f o r lands and rivers in the moon and may think that he has found them, but there is no certainty in the matter. 1 7 The same thing is true of sunspots : There [on the sun] lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps Astronomer in the Sun's lucent Orbe Through his glaz'd Optic Tube yet never saw. ( P . L . , II, 98)
"Perhaps" is the key word. Without it, the passage would mean that no sunspot, however portentous, could equal the Devil himself in malignancy. Such a thing does not admit of doubt. With it, the passage seems to mean that Satan was a real sunspot, and that perhaps an astronomer, in spite of all he had said, had never seen anything similar. If this is the correct interpretation, then Galileo is no longer the perse17 T h e probability is that Milton had looked through G a l i l e o ' s telescope on the occasion of his visit.
103
Nature
cuted champion of truth; he is the man whose infirmity Milton has the most poignant reason for remembering. N o r does the landscape of England impress him as it did Wordsworth. H e has no description like the panorama in Tintern Abbey with its characteristic details such as the "hardy hedgerows." Milton's landscape, the Garden of Eden, 1 8 is of course idealized and belongs to no specific locality. Its mingled and contrasted delights—fresh fountain, rippling brooks, and still lake; hills, valleys, and plains; sunwarmed meadows, and cool vine-shaded caves—suggest an artistic composition rather than the open country, except that the flowers grow at random instead of being disposed by nice A r t In Beds and curious Knots. ( P . L . , I I , 1 1 5 )
Yet this is his only disparaging reference to the art of horticulture. In all other cases he shows an interest in it that is also a characteristic of his contemporaries. H e felt that a garden was a delightful place through which to stroll in a moment of relaxation : And adde to these retired leasure T h a t in trim Gardens takes his pleasure; (Il Peti., I, 4 1 )
but he had more than mere aesthetic appreciation of its charms. H e knew how much was involved in its upkeep, as is made evident by two figures that between them cover a good many of the technical details of gardening. In the first, he attacks Oxford and Cambridge as those places, which were intended to be the seed plots of piety and the Liberall Arts, but were become the nurseries of superstition ;
(Apol., III, 335-336) in the second, he attacks the bishops' claims of jurisdiction. The figure, one of his most fully elaborated, might almost be called a fable : 16
For a discussion of the classical allusions in this description, see Chapter 6.
104
Nature
which is the worthiest worke of these two, to plant, as every Ministers office is equally w i t h the Bishops, or to tend that which is planted, which Prelates call jurisdiction, and would appropriate to themselves as a businesse of higher dignity ? heare a L a w case : A certaine man of large possessions, had a faire Garden, and kept therein an honest and laborious servant, whose skill and profession was to set or sow all wholsome herbs, and delightfull flowers, according to every season, and what ever else was to be done in a well-husbanded nursery of plants and fruits; now, when the time w a s come that he should cut his hedges, prune his trees, looke to his tender slips, and pluck up the weeds that hinder'd their growth, he gets him up by breake of day, and makes account to doe w h a t was needfull in his garden, and w h o would thinke that any other should know better than he how the dayes w o r k was to be spent? Y e t for all this there comes another strange Gardener that never knew the soyle, never handl'd Dibble or Spade to set the least potherbe that grew there, much lesse had endur'd an houres sweat or chilnesse, and yet challenges as his right the binding or unbinding of every flower, the clipping of every bush, the weeding and worming of every bed both in that, and all other Gardens thereabout; the honest G a r dener, that ever since the day-peepe, till now the Sunne was growne somewhat ranke, had wrought painfully about his bankes and seed-plots at this commanding voyce, turnes suddenly about with some wonder, and although hee could have well beteem'd [consented] to have thankt him of the ease hee profer'd, yet loving his owne handiworke, modestly refus'd him, telling him withall, that for his part, if hee had thought much of his owne paines, he could for once have committed the worke to one of his fellow-labourers, for as much as it is well knowne to be a matter of lesse skill and lesse labour to keepe a Garden handsome, then it is to plant it, or contrive it, and that he had already perform'd himselfe. N o , said the stranger, this is neither for you nor your fellowes to meddle with, but for me onely that am for this purpose in dignity farre above you, and the provision which the L o r d of the soyle allowes me in this office is, and that w i t h good reason, ten fold your W a g e s ; the G a r dener smil'd and shooke his head, but w h a t was determin'd I cannot tell you till the end of this Parliament. ( A n i m I l l , 1 5 8 - 1 5 9 )
H e r e we find an understanding not only of the various jobs to be done in the garden itself but also of the preliminary work in the greenhouse, the management of seed plots, nurseries, slips, pot-herbs, and the setting of herbs. A garden with its wholesome herbs and flowers is, then,
Nature the symbol toral care. neglect and jects which them :
105
of conscientious and loving interest and of pasConversely, brambles and thistles stand f o r f o r barren controversies of the schoolmen, submake asses of those who are forced to pursue
it is not likely that the charming . . . Muses preside over these shrivelled . . . subjects . . . there never was a place for them on Parnassus, except perhaps some neglected corner at the bottom of the hill, dismal, rough and wild with brambles and thorns, covered over with thistles and dense nettles . . . a place which neither yields laurels nor produces flowers; (Prolusion III, X I I , 163) [under the present system of education] w e have now to hale and drag our choisest . . . W i t s to that asinine feast of sow-thistles and brambles which is commonly set before them, as all the food . . . of their tenderest . . . age; ( E d u c . , I V , 280) [students] comming to the Universities to store themselves w i t h good and solid learning, and there unfortunately fed w i t h nothing else, but the scragged and thorny lectures of monkish and miserable sophistry, were sent home again w i t h such a scholastical burre in their throats, as hath stopt and hinderd all true and generous philosophy from entring, crackt their voices for ever w i t h metaphysical gargarisms [gargles]. (R. Ch. Gov.,
I l l , 273)
In another important group of images, dealing not with the art of gardening or its neglect but with the flowers themselves, Milton's fondness f o r them is likewise evident, although it appears only in connection with those that bloom early. Spring blossoms represent youth. T h e cheeks of the girls whom he sees in London are compared to hyacinths and anemones. 19 Buds represent youthful v i g o r : [ C o m u s offers the L a d y ] all the pleasures T h a t fancy can beget on youthfull thoughts, W h e n the fresh blood grows lively, and returns Brisk as the April buds in Primrose-season; (Comus,
I, 1 1 0 )
and youthful accomplishment: 19 Elegy I, I, 173. If Milton had in mind the classical hyacinth, the fritillary, it blooms in A p r i l .
Nature
IOÓ
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. (How soon hath Time,
I, 60)
T h e thoughtless and untimely picking of a spring flower represents the death of a young lady : So have I seen some tender slip Sav'd with care from Winters nip, T h e pride of her carnation train, Pluck't up by som unheedy swain, W h o onely thought to crop the flowr New shot up from vernal showr. (An Epitaph,
I, 2 9 - 3 0 )
The social standing of the lady (who was no less than a Marchioness) or her moral excellence is implicit in the image. The bloom is not an ordinary seedling that needs only a shower to make it grow; it is a choice slip, or cutting from an older flower, which had been carefully preserved through the winter and finally transplanted in the spring to the garden. T h e killing of flowers by a late f r o s t 2 0 represents the death of the young Lycidas : [ A s killing as] Frost to Flowers . . . Such, Lycidas, thy loss to Shepherds ear; (I, 78)
the death of an infant: O fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie, Summers chief honour if thou hadst out-lasted Bleak winters force that made thy blossome drie ; (On the Death of a Fair Inf ant, I, 1 5 )
or the dashing of a brief hope—at the thought of ransoming Samson, Manoah felt a joy which now proves Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring Nipt with the lagging rear of winters frost. (S.A.,
I, 3 9 3 )
Doubtless the same association underlies the passage from Lycidas describing the flowers that strew his hearse. 21 Of the 20
T h i s image is rare except in Shakespeare. Spurgeon, op. eit., p. 9 1 . Lines 1 4 2 - i j i . Some of the flowers are directly described, some are personified. 21
107
Nature
ten e a r t h l y flowers, excluding the l e g e n d a r y , u n f a d i n g a m a r a n t h u s , 2 2 all are in b l o o m by J u n e , and all but one by M a y . 2 3 F o r the y o u n g L y c i d a s spring flowers w o u l d be m o r e a p p r o p r i a t e than any others. In the case of the p a s s a g e describing the b o w e r of A d a m and E v e , 2 4 the evidence is almost as strong. Seven out of the nine flowers and bloom early.26
flowering
shrubs
M i l t o n selects blooms a p p r o p r i a t e to
the
y o u t h f u l innocence and freshness of the G a r d e n in which Universal Pan Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance Led on th' Eternal Spring. 28 ( P . L . , II, 1 1 6 ) I t is true that this spring included the luxuries of other seasons. W h e n E v e entertained R a p h a e l , on the table there w a s All Autumn pil'd, though Spring and Autumn Danc'd hand in hand. ( P . L . , II, 1 5 8 )
here
Y e t though the f r u i t s of E d e n are late, its flowers are e a r l y . T h i s love of spring flowers is included in a w i d e r response to the delights of that season. T h e g r o u n d t h a w s : 2 7 we that have liv'd so long in abundant light, besides the sunny reflection of all the neighbouring Churches, have yet our hearts . . . benumm'd with the same fleshly reasonings, which in our forefathers soone melted . . . if we and gave way, against the morning beam of Reformation 22 T h i s is probably included f o r its poetic associations and as a symbol of immortality. T h e r e is a real amaranthus, known as Prince's Feather or Lovelies-bleeding, but it is highly unlikely that this is the flower that Milton means. 23 T h e early flowers a r e : primrose, crow-toe (either wild hyacinth which is also called bluebell; male orchis; or buttercup), pink, pansy, violet, woodbine (in England, the honeysuckle), cowslip, daffodil, and muskrose, assuming that this is the wild musk-mallow. If it is the white rambling rose, it blooms in J u l y . T h e only flower later than M a y is the jessamine, which blooms in June. 24 Paradise Lost, Bk. IV, II. 689-703. T h e passage is non-figurative. 25 T h e early flowers a r e : iris, crocus, hyacinth, violet, and jessamine; the later flower is the rose. T h e early shrubs a r e : laurel, and myrtle. In England, the acanthus blooms in July, but it is common in the region of the Mediterranean where, of course, it blooms earlier. It should, perhaps, be remarked that some varieties of roses bloom as early as June. In the Garden there is also citron, balm, myrrh, cassia and nard. 26 Milton again associates flowers with spring in P.L., Bk. Χ , II. 678-679. 27 Milton has several unusual images of freezing. See below, under touch images.
ιο8
Nature
freeze at noone after their earelv thaw, let us feare lest the Sunne for ever hide himselfe ; (Attim., I l l , 146) in the renewed w a r m t h the mists disperse, and not only flowers but also herbs and crops spring up : [A true religious leader will come] like that Sun of righteousnesse that sent him, with healing in his wings, and new light to break in upon the chill and gloomy hearts of his hearers, raising out of darksome barrennesse a delicious, and fragrant Spring of saving knowledge, and good workes; (Anim., I l l , 164) [Bishops pride themselves on keeping away schism] The Winter might as well vaunt it selfe against the Spring, I destroy all noysome and rank weeds, I keepe downe all pestilent vapours. Yes and all wholesome herbs, and all fresh dews, by your violent & hidebound frost; but when the gentle west winds shall open the fruitfull bosome of the earth thus over-girded by your imprisonment, then the flowers put forth and spring, and then the Sunne shall scatter the mists, and the manuring hand of the Tiller shall root up all that burdens the soile without thank to your bondage. ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 4 ) Spring and spring flowers appeal to nearly everyone, but it is not clear in M i l t o n ' s case w h y the later seasons with their flowers did not also appeal to him as they did, f o r example, to Bacon. One f u r t h e r point should be noted. A s a result of his weak eyesight he does not employ really delicate descriptive detail. In this respect he differs markedly f r o m Shakespeare ; f o r example, consider M i l t o n ' s cowslip, Cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, (Lycidas, I, 82) as compared to Shakespeare's, On her left breast A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip. (Cymbeline, II, ii, 37-39) M i l t o n ' s other images dealing with details of horticulture and with g r o w i n g things in g e n e r a l 2 8 do not show such 28 T h e c a n k e r - w o r m ; g r a f t i n g ; the g r o w t h and spread of a weed or plant (pumpkin, mushroom, and bean-pod are used in derogatory images) ; budding, blossoming; rinds, husks; vines, trees, trunk, branches (Milton puns on Morus
Nature
ioç
m a r k e d individuality, but a f e w e x a m p l e s m a y be cited to demonstrate their quality: [In Eiion Basilike, the King revealed] more of Mysterie and combination between Tyranny and fais Religion, then from any other hand would have bin credible. Heer we may see the very dark roots of them both turn'd up, and how they twine and interweave one another in the Earth, though above ground shooting up in two sever'd Branches ; (Eiion., V , 226) [ T h e composition of verses and the like] are not matters to be wrung from poor striplings, like . . . the plucking of untimely fruit ; (Educ., I V , 2 7 8 ) [If Adam is temperate] So maist thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop Into thy Mothers lap, or be with ease Gatherd, not harshly pluckt, for death mature. ( P . L . , I I , 364) I n t h e m o r e p r a c t i c a l a c t i v i t y o f f a r m i n g he s h o w s much less i n t e r e s t . H e h a s a f e w i m a g e s o f c o u n t r y f o l k : a h a r v e s t queen c r o w n e d w i t h a g a r l a n d , a l a b o r e r r e t u r n i n g h o m e in the e v e n i n g , 2 9 a y o u n g h i n d ambitious to shew his betters that hee is not so simple as you take him, (Colasi., I V , 2 5 7 ) a f a r m e r , o b s e r v i n g the s k y in a d r o u g h t , o r f e a r f u l o f a storm
30
—angels confronting Satan
began to hemm him round With ported Spears, as thick as when a field Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends Her bearded Grove of ears, which way the wind Swayes them ; the careful Plowman doubting stands Least on the threshing floore his hopeful sheaves Prove chaff; (P.L., I I , 1 4 1 ) H e a l s o m a k e s use of a n u m b e r o f h o m e l y d e t a i l s t h a t in a l l p r o b a b i l i t y h e h a d o b s e r v e d at first h a n d : the m a n n e r in which seed p r o p a g a t e s , and morus-mulberry) ; woods, forest; soil, seeds; as well as other images that may or may not apply to a garden, such as planting, decay, and rot. 29 See below, " T h e Cherubim descended," etc. 30 This is developed from Iliad, II, 147.
110
Nature
It is not therefore man as a regenerate being, but man in his animal capacity, that propagates his kind ; as seed, though cleared from the chaff and stubble, produces not only the ear or grain, but also the stalk and husk; ( C h . D o c t . , X V , 1 9 7 ) m e t h o d s of raising and p r e s e r v i n g the crop, [Milton's opponent depends on] his margent, which is the sluce most commonly, that feeds the drouth of his text; ( A p o l I l l , 323) let us not for feare of a scarre-crow [encroachment on the King's prerogative] . . . stand hankering; (Ref., I I I , 73) [Anselme] little dreamt then that the weeding-hook of reformation would . . . pluck up his glorious poppy from insulting over the good corne; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 208) harvesting : [ D o not be awed by men who quote the Church Fathers] D o but winnow their chaffe from their wheat, ye shall see their great heape shrink and wax thin past beliefe; (Apol., I l l , 358) [King has quoted from Sidney's Arcadia] I lookt rather to have found him gleaning out of Books writt'n purposely to help Devotion; (Eikon.,
V,
88)
and distributing the g r a i n : should ye suppresse all this flowry crop of knowledge and new light sprung up and yet springing daily in this City, should ye set an Oligarchy of twenty ingrossers over it, to bring a famin upon our minds again, when we shall know nothing but what is measur'd to us by their bushel? (Areo., I V , 345) In a d d i t i o n , h e i n c l u d e s a s t u d y o f a g r i c u l t u r e in his s c h e m e o f E d u c a t i o n . 3 1 Y e t since E n g l a n d w a s still l a r g e l y r u r a l , his f a r m i n g i m a g e s a r e n o t v e r y d i f f e r e n t f r o m t h o s e o f m e n as unlike f a r m e r s as L o r d B r o o k e and B i s h o p H a l l . 3 2 3 1 " T h e next step ivould be to the A u t h o r s Agriculture, Cato, t'arro, and Columella, f o r the matter is most easie, and if the l a n g u a g e be difficult, so much the better, it is not a difficulty a b o v e their years. A n d here w i l l be an occasion of inciting and i n a b l i n g them h e r e a f t e r to i m p r o v e the tillage of their C o u n t r y , to recover the b a d Soil, and to remedy the waste that is m a d e of g o o d : f o r this w a s one of Hercules p r a i s e s " (Educ., I V , 282). 3 2 " E r r o u r b e i n g like the J e r u s a l e m - A r t i c h o a k e ; plant it w h e r e you w i l l , it o v e r r u n n e s the g r o u n d and choakes the h e a r t " ( B r o o k e , A Discourse opening
m
Nature
T h e s e , then, a r e the less o r i g i n a l aspects of his response to nature, but they a r e r e l a t i v e l y u n i m p o r t a n t . M u c h
more
conspicuous, and highly individual, are the images d e v o t e d to the p a g e a n t r y of the h e a v e n s , the rising, shining, and setting of the sun, m o o n ,
and stars, by which he w a s
fascinated
t h r o u g h o u t h i s l i f e . T h e sun is p u r e , p o w e r f u l , a n d d a z z l i n g l y brilliant:33 T r u t h is as impossible to be soil'd by any outward touch, as the Sun beam; ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 3 7 0 ) [Prelacy is like a serpent] shot to death with the darts of the sun, the pure and powerful beams of G o d s word. 3 4 ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 7 5 ) W e boast our light ; but if w e look not wisely on the Sun it self, it smites us into darknes. W h o can discern those planets that are o f t Combust, and those stars of brightest magnitude that rise and set with the Sun, untili the opposite motion of their orbs bring them to such a place in the firmament, where tliey may be seen evning or morning. T h e light which we have gain'd, was giv'n us, not to be ever staring on, but by it to discover onward things more remote from our knowledge. {Area.,
IV, 338)
I t serves as the symbol of G o d ' s truth : such is the order of G o d s enlightning his Church, to dispense and deal out by degrees his beam, so as our earthly eyes may best sustain it ; (.Areo.,
IV,
350)
as well as of the merits of P a r l i a m e n t : no sooner did the force of so much united excellence meet in one globe of brightnesse and efficacy, but encountring the dazl'd resistance of tyranny they [conquered], ( A polIII, 337) A s the sun d r o p s l o w , the m i s t rises : . . . Episcopasie, p. 59) ; "Divine Institution . . . [can stand alone] but Humane is like the wealce Vine or Hop, which without a pole, must creepe, and so rot, upon the earth" (ibid., p. 89) ; "No hay-cock hath beene oftner shaken abroad, and tossed up and downe in the winde, then every argument of yours hath been agitated by more able pens then mine" (Hall, A Short Answer, p. 100). 33 Occasionally the sun is hot. 34 This figure is of course based primarily on the myth of the slaying of the python by Apollo. See Chapter 5. For other descriptions of nature involving myths see Chapter 6.
1 1 2
Nature
[About to expel Adam and Eve from the garden] The Cherubim descended ; on the ground Gliding meteorous,35 as Ev'ning Mist Ris'n from a River o're the marish glides, And gathers ground fast at the Labourers heel Homeward returning. ( P . L . , II, 4 0 1 ) T h e level r a y s reach across the country : 3 0 [If, after a storm] the radiant Sun with farewell sweet Extend his ev'ning beam, the fields revive.37 ( P . L . , II, 55) T h e n comes the brilliant display of sunset colors, like the w o r l d l y ostentation of a m o n a r c h ' s court, f o l l o w e d by the sharply contrasting monotone of twilight, suggestive of religious holiness : [The sun is] Arraying with reflected Purple and Gold The Clouds that on his Western Throne attend : Now came still Eevning on, and Twilight grayHad in her sober Liverie all things clad; ( P . L . , II, 127) the gray-hooded Eev'n Like a sad Votarist in Palmers weed Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus wain. (Comus, I, 92) N i g h t is still, and the song of the nightingale brings a sense of r e l a x e d calm and m a k e s the moon itself pause in d e l i g h t : Philomel will deign a Song, In her sweetest saddest plight, Smoothing the rugged brow of night, While Cynthia checks her Dragon yoke, Gently o're th' accustom'd Oke. 38 (II Pen., I, 42) 35 A meteor was any atmospheric phenomenon. Mist (as here), dew, etc., were aqueous meteors. 34 The simultaneous effect of long shadows is found in a non-figurative line from Lycidas: And now the Sun had stretch'd out all the hills, And now was dropt into the Western Bay. (I, 83) 37 For the complete passage see above, under Italian scenery: "Thus they thir doubtful consultations," etc. 38 Cynthia, the moon goddess, was identified with Hecate. Ovid's Renaissance commentators attributed to Hecate the dragon-chariot sent to Medea in answer to her prayer. D. P. Harding, Milton and the Renaissance Ovid, (Urbana, III., 1946), p. 50.
Nature O n a c l o u d y n i g h t t h e d a r k n e s s s e e m s s i n i s t e r to o n e w h o is lost: [ T h e Lady's brothers left her] And envious darknes, e're they could return, Had stole them from me, els O theevish Night W h y shouldst thou, but for som fellonious end, In thy dark Lantern thus close up the Stars; (Cornus, I , 9 2 ) until the m o o n b r e a k s t h r o u g h : I did not err, there does a sable cloud T u r n forth her silver lining on the night, And casts a gleam over this tufted Grove. (Cornus, I, 9 3 ) H e r e the e f f e c t is t h a t o f a s m a l l o p e n i n g in a h e a v y c l o u d . A quite d i f f e r e n t e f f e c t is p r o d u c e d b y a c l o u d ' s t h i n i n g o u t a c r o s s the f a c e of t h e m o o n : Unmuffle ye faint Stars, and thou fair Moon T h a t wontst to love the travellers benizon, Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, And disinherit Chaos, that raigns here. (Cornus, I, 9 7 ) A n d a still d i f f e r e n t o n e w h e n t h e s k y is filled w i t h s m a l l , broken clouds : [Milton sees] the wandring Moon, Riding neer her highest noon, Like one that had bin led astray Through the Heav'ns wide pathles way ; And oft, as if her head she bow'd, Stooping through a fleecy cloud; (// Pen., I, 4 2 ) H e r e the m o o n shines f u l l e n o u g h on the c l o u d s to m a k e t h e m w h i t e , b u t k e e p s a p p e a r i n g a n d d i s a p p e a r i n g b e h i n d a succession of t h e m . F i n a l l y , if the s k y c l e a r s , t h e m o o n d i f f u s e s a radiance over everything: Hesperus that led T h e starrie Host, rode brightest, till the Moon Rising in clouded Majestie, at length Apparent Queen unvaild her peerless light, And o're the dark her Silver Mantle threw. ( P . L . , I I , 1 2 8 )
Nature
114
C o m p a r e d to the m o o n , the s t a r s a r e f a i n t . B y the time S a t a n r e t u r n e d to H e l l a f t e r the t e m p t a t i o n , the b r i g h t n e s s o f his f o r m h a d d w i n d l e d f r o m the " e x c e s s o f g l o r y obs c u r e d , " like t h a t o f the sun b e h i n d c l o u d s , 3 9 to the g l i t t e r of starlight : A t last as from a Cloud his fulgent head And shape Starr bright appeer'd, or brighter, clad With what permissive glory since his fall Was left him, or false glitter. ( P . L . , I I , 320) Y e t , a l o n e in the d a r k s k y , t h e y shine like j e w e l s , 4 0 in a cluster of fine, b r i g h t r a y s : Mark what radiant state she [the Countess] spreds, In circle round her shining throne, Shooting her beams like silver threds; {Arcades, I, 72) F a l l i n g s t a r s also m a d e a d e e p i m p r e s s i o n upon him. H e notes their b r i g h t n e s s and s p e e d : Swift as the Sparkle of a glancing Star, I [Attendant Spirit] shoot from Heav'n; (Comus, I, 88) [Mulciber] Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star; (PL.,
II, 35)
t h e i r e x t e n d e d p a t h a c r o s s the s k y : [Azazel] from the glittering Staff unfurld Th'Imperial Ensign, which full high advanc't Shon like a Meteor streaming to the Wind ; ( P . L . , I I , 27) a n d their s e a s o n a l o c c u r r e n c e : Thither came Uriel gliding through the Eeven On a Sun beam swift as a shooting Starr In Autumn thwarts the night, when vapors fir'd Impress the Air, and shews the Mariner From what point of his Compass to beware Impetuous winds; ( P . L . , I I , 1 2 6 ) [Satan] like an Autumnal Star Or Lightning thou shalt fall from Heav'n. ( P . R . , I I , 481 ) •18 See b e l o w , u n d e r i m a g e s of d a w n . 40 N e a r l y a l l t h e i m a g e s t u r n o n t h e b r i g h t n e s s of t h e s t a r s ; o n l y a f e w o n their Dumber.
Nature
1 1 5
Y e t lovely as these may be, a comet is f a r more awe-inspiring. Once seen it is never f o r g o t t e n : his progress b a r r e d by the figure of D e a t h , Incenst w i t h indignation Satan stood Unterrifi'd, and like a Comet burn'd, T h a t fires the length of Ophiucus huge In th'Artick Sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes Pestilence and W a r r . ( P . L . , II, 6 3 )
W h i l e M i l t o n must h a v e known of the various comet similes in literature, 4 1 he is here almost certainly recalling a childhood experience. In 1 6 1 8 a magnificent comet with a tail o f g r e a t length appeared in the constellation Ophiuchus, 4 2 and such a spectacle with all its attendant superstitious agitation must surely h a v e made a p r o f o u n d impression on the mind o f a ten-year-old boy. Ophiuchus, h o w e v e r , is not in the A r c t i c regions; it extends o v e r the celestial equator, partly in the N o r t h e r n and partly in the Southern H e m i s p h e r e . T h e phrase " t h ' A r t i c k S k y " is, t h e r e f o r e , puzzling. 4 3 Finally, there is the figure of an imagined event more awe-inspiring than any comet. A s M i c h a e l and Satan began their single combat, the other angels retired unsafe within the wind O f such commotion, such as to set forth Great things by small, If Natures concord broke, 4 1 V e r g i l , D a n t e , T a s s o , Spenser, D u B a r t a s , a n d others. M i l t o n a n d DuB a r t a s both c o m p a r e the s w o r d b r a n d i s h e d o v e r the G a r d e n of E d e n to a flaming comet. See b e l o w , note 98. 4 2 G . F. C h a m b e r s , The Story of the Comets ( O x f o r d , 1 9 1 0 ) , pp. 228-229. 4 3 T h e least u n s a t i s f a c t o r y e x p l a n a t i o n is that M i l t o n c h a n g e d its position in o r d e r to increase the e f f e c t i v e n e s s of his s i m i l e ; the comet is identified w i t h Satan, O p h i u c h u s m e a n s "the s e r p e n t - b e a r e r , " a n d S a t a n is a s s o c i a t e d w i t h the r e g i o n s of the north. It is h a r d to b e l i e v e that M i l t o n w o u l d thus j u g g l e a s tronomical f a c t s . O n the other h a n d , he is not likely to h a v e m a d e a mistake. Since he k n o w s that O p h i u c h u s is huge, p r e s u m a b l y he also k n o w s w h e r e it i s ; f u r t h e r m o r e , if the comet of 1618 really m a d e a l a s t i n g impression, he doubtless remembered that he s a w it in the south. H e m a y possibly h a v e c o n f u s e d Ophiuchue w i t h D r a c o , the D r a g o n , also a p p l i c a b l e to Satan, w h i c h is both h u g e and in the arctic sky. " A r t i c k " cannot mean " w i n t r y " or " c o l d , " b e c a u s e d u r i n g the coldest p a r t of the w i n t e r O p h i u c h u s is too n e a r the position of the sun to be visible.
Nature
IIÓ
Among the Constellations warr were sprung, T w o Planets rushing from aspect maligne Of fiercest opposition in mid Skie, Should combat, and thir jarring Sphears confound. (P.L.,
I I , 189)
A t last the stars give w a y to the dawn, the day-star alone remaining still bright : Fairest of Starrs, last in the train of Night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crownst the smiling Morn With thy bright Circlet. ( P . L . , I I , 1 5 0 ) D a w n is a time of freshness and purity : [Christ shall] rise Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light; ( P . L . , I I , 3 9 3 ) [Adam begs Eve not to] cloud those looks That wont to be more chearful and serene Then when fair Morning first smiles on the World. (P.L.,
I I , 148)
D a w n is therefore hated by evil creatures such as Comus : [Cotytto's rites must be completed] Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, T h e nice Morn on th' Indian steep From her cabin'd loop-hole peep, And to the tell-tale Sun discry Our conceal'd Solemnity. (Comus, I, 90) T h e stillness is broken by the song of the lark and other birds, the crowing of the cock, the barking of hounds, and the sound of the huntsman's horn. T h e scented wind springs up in the leaves: ** the odorous breath of morn Awakes the slumbring leaves ; (Arcades, I, 74) Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet. ( P . L . , I I , 1 2 9 ) T h e "high lawns," drenched in dew, appear in the first grey light that, like evening, breathes the spirit of holiness : 44
C f . [ D a w n ] " T h e season, prime f o r sweetest Sents and A i r e s "
(P.L., II, 267).
Nature
1 1 7
While the still morn went out with Sandals gray; (Lycidas, I, 83) morning fair Came forth with Pilgrim steps in amice gray ; Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar Of Thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds, And grisly Spectres. ( P . R . , I I , 474) L a t e r the light deepens, sometimes turning to a clear, bright rose: the Morn, All unconcern'd with our unrest, begins Her rosie progress smiling; ( P . L . , II, 3 5 1 - 3 5 2 ) sometimes to an angrier red, the indication of later storm : the epithet of modest there [in the title of the Remonstrant's book], was a certaine red portending signe, that he meant ere long to be most tempestuously bòld, and shamelesse. (Apol., I I I , 309) Conversely, a dull dawn often precedes a fine day : I wish that the beginning of my oration should resemble the very early dawn from whose gloomy clouds the clearest day is usually born. (Prolusion I, X I I , 1 2 3 ) Generally, there are clouds of some s o r t — d a r k rain clouds : Thus night oft see me in thy pale career, T i l l civil-suited Morn appeer, Not trickt and frounc't as she was wont, With the Attick Boy to hunt, But Cherchef't in a comely Cloud, While rocking Winds are Piping loud, O r usher'd with a shower still, When the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the russling Leaves, With minute drops from off the Eaves; (II Pen., I, 44) red : the Sun in bed, Curtain'd with cloudy red, Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave; (Nat. Ode, I, 1 0 ) or brilliantly v a r i e d :
Nature
ιι8
[Milton sometimes walks] Right against the Eastern gate, Where the great Sun begins his state, Roab'd in flames, and Amber light, The clouds in thousand Liveries dight. {L'Ali.,
I, 36)
Finally, the sun is f u l l y risen, still p a r t l y obscured : [Satan appeared no less than] th' excess Of Glory obscur'd : As when the Sun new ris'n Looks through the Horizontal misty Air Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds; (P.L., II, 29) or shining clear : pleasant the Sun When first on this delightful Land he spreads His orient Beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flour, Glistring with dew; ( P . L . , II, 129) and the cycle begins a g a i n : Many [women] are in each Region passing fair As the noon Skie. (P.R., II, 429) I t is evident, t h e r e f o r e , t h a t his most m a r k e d l y individual nature images
are t h o s e
that
record
the e v e r
changing
beauties of the sky. F o r him " t h e h e a v e n s declare the g l o r y of G o d ; and the firmament s h o w e t h his h a n d i w o r k . " Second only to these i m a g e s of the sky are his images o f the sea. In his y o u t h , he seems t o h a v e been indifferent to the sea, even t h o u g h L o n d o n w a s a p o r t , 4 5 and up to 1 6 3 9 he has only a f e w c o m m o n p l a c e s r e f e r r i n g to it.4® In t h a t y e a r , h o w e v e r , he b e g a n his G r a n d T o u r , which, in addition t o his crossing of the C h a n n e l , included a v o y a g e f r o m N i c e to G e n o a . T h i s experience, b r i e f as it w a s , seems to h a v e been T h e London river life never appears. See Chapter 1, note 28. Λ harbor of rest, the sea of knowledge, and the helm of affairs. A m o n g the late images w e also find commonplaces such as: storms, w a v e s , rocks, a pilot, and the like. 45
44
Nature
IIÇ
sufficient to awaken his interest in nautical matters and to b r o a d e n his knowledge of them. 4 7 M a n y of the figures have all the e a r m a r k s of direct o b s e r v a t i o n ; 4 8 they are correct in their use of technical terms, and a r e considerably more original than those of his c o n t e m p o r a r i e s . W e find significant figures: f r o m the sea itself including both the shall o w s of the coast and the s t o r m y d e e p s ; f r o m coastal navigation and commerce, the a r r i v a l of a ship in port, and the unloading of its f r e i g h t ; f r o m the methods of keeping a ship afloat and of sailing it on the high s e a ; f r o m naval warf a r e ; and f r o m sea l i f e in g e n e r a l . T h e r e is, h o w e v e r , no indication of p r o f e s s i o n a l k n o w l e d g e of deep-sea navigation, plotting a course, and the like. I f these figures derive f r o m experience, the impressions behind them must h a v e been s h a r p . I f they do not, his experience must h a v e stimulated him to acquire his nautical k n o w l e d g e through books. L e t us examine in detail these v a r i o u s aspects. T h e sea i t s e l f : the shallow w a t e r s a l o n g the shore delay and impede sailing; the high seas, on the other hand, a r e stormy and should not be ventured upon without p r o p e r ballast. U n d e r the conventional system of education in M i l t o n ' s day, the pupils w e r e shifted too suddenly f r o m the shallows to the deeps : [ T h e pupils] having but newly left those G r a m m a t i c k flats and shallows where they stuck unreasonably to learn a f e w words . . . [are] transported under another climate to be tost and turmoil'd with their unballasted wits in fadomless and unquiet deeps of controversie. (EducIV,
278-279)
A g a i n , shoal water is an impediment to p r o g r e s s : we are in danger to f a l l again upon the flats and shallows of Liturgie. (Eikon.,
V,
261)
47
T h e r e is nothing in the h i s t o r y of s e v e n t e e n t h - c e n t u r y m e r c a n t i l i s m to account f o r this a w a k e n e d interest. 48
S h a k e s p e a r e ' s i m a g e s a r e n e a r l y all those of a l a n d s m a n . S p u r g e o n , op. cit.,
pp. 4 7 - 4 8 ·
Nature
120
I t serves also as a measure of intellectual height; a fool soon gets out o f his depth. Milton taunts his adversary with being a learned fool, w i t h much toylc, and difficulty w a d i n g to his [ H a l l ' s ] auditors up to the eyebrows in deep shallows that w e t not the instep.
(Anirn., I l l ,
163)
From coastal navigation and commerce : to sail in the creek of custom and conventional thinking is easy; to go "voyaging through strange seas of thought alone" is hard. Hence, Milton does not expect his ideas on divorce to be well received by such whose capacity, since their youth run ahead into the easie creek of a System . . . sayls there at w i l l .
(Doct. Div.,
Ill, 378)
A t the end of a voyage the last task is to pass over the ford, or shallow water, that lies before the port. T h e final section o f the book that Milton is refuting presents no greater difficulty : w e have the P o r t w i t h i n s i g h t ; his [ H a l l ' s ] last Section which is no deepe one, remains only to be foarded, and then the w i s h t shoare ;
(Apol., III, 357)
Milton, bringing to land his mental cargo, will gladly submit to the custom's inspection of a liberal Parliament: [ I ] am return'd, as to a famous and free P o r t , m y self also bound by more then a
maritime
L a w , to expose as freely w h a t f r a u g h t a g e I con-
ceave to bring of no trifles ; (
Tetra.,
III, 63)
His adversary has so unwieldy a cargo of citations that he needs extra room to unload them : N o r yet content w i t h the w o n t e d room of his [ H a l l ' s ] margent, but he must cut out large docks and creeks into his text to unlade the foolish f r i g a t e 4 9 of his unseasonable autorities.
(Apol.,
III,
334)
From navigation on the high seas : a well-built and wellequipped ship is safe : 49
Frigate applies to a merchantman as well as to a man-of-war.
Nature
121
[Sects] are but winds and flaws to try the floting vessell of our faith whether it be stanch and sayl well, whether our ballast be just, our anchorage and cable strong; ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 2 2 )
an unsound ship, on the other hand, is dangerous; furthermore, a square-rigged ship "upon the lee" has its sails aback, that is to say, is pointing into the wind, with the wind blowing on the f o r w a r d side of the sails; in such a position it is without steerageway and practically helpless : [ T h e problem is] how to soder, how to stop a leak, how to keep up the floting carcas of a crazie, and diseased Monarchy . . . betwixt wind, and water, swimming still upon her own dead lees. (Ref., I I I , 38)
T h e bishops in their elaborate vestments are like ships under full sail with their mazes of ropes: see them under Sayl in all their L a w n , and Sarcenet, their shrouds, and tackle; (Ref., I I I , 7 4 )
they are as sure of themselves, as carelessly insolent in their dizzy and dangerous heights as sailors in the rigging: Bishops [are] swaggering in the fore-top of the State. (Ref.,
III, 52)
B y mistakenly calling Parliament a Convocation, Remonstrant has been able with one words speaking to clap as it were under hatches the King with all his Peeres. (Apol., I I I , 3 3 3 )
F r o m naval w a r f a r e : King Charles had determined to protect the E a r l of Strafford but both his conscience and this his strong resolution strook saile . . . his stronger fear (Eikon., V , 9 2 )
to
as one man-of-war to another. F r o m sea life, his most telling image is drawn f r o m fishing. Attacking the authority of the Church Fathers, he declares that they are mere chance survivals, as miscellaneous a lot as the catch of a fisherman :
122
Nature
W h a t s o e v e r time, or the heedlesse hand of blind chance, hath d r a w n e d o w n f r o m of old to this present, in her huge dragnet, w h e t h e r Fish, or Sea-weed, Shells, or Shrubbs, unpickt, unchosen, those are the Fathers. (Prélat. Epis., I I I , 82)
It will h a v e been observed that the figures under all these categories are found in the prose written within a f e w y e a r s of his return when his interest would naturally h a v e been keen. Y e t several of the finest figures are f o u n d in his late writings and may well reflect the still vivid memories of this episode of his youth, although the proper names, doubtless employed f o r their romantic suggestiveness, disguise the actual circumstances. M a k i n g a l a n d f a l l would have been, f o r the novice that he was, an exciting and hence memorable experience: R a p h a e l , looking down f r o m heaven, sees the earth as a P i l o t f r o m amidst the Cyclades Delos or Samos first appeering kenns A cloudy spot. 50 ( P . L . , I I , 1 5 3 )
So would h a v e been the sighting of a ship on the h o r i z o n against a bank of clouds, a m o n g which it w o u l d seem to h a n g : 5 1 Satan is seen flying t o w a r d the gates of H e l l , A s w h e n f a r r off at Sea a Fleet descri'd H a n g s in the C l o u d s , by Mquinoctial Winds Close sailing f r o m Bengala, or the lies O f Ternate and Tidore, whence M e r c h a n t s bring T h i r spicie D r u g s ; they on the T r a d i n g F l o o d T h r o u g h the w i d e Ethiopian to the C a p e P l y stemming nightly t o w a r d the Pole. So seem'd F a r r off the flying Fiend ; 5 2 ( P . L . , I I , 60) 5 0 In a letter to the author Hughes writes: " I have always wondered whether there was not a specific literary source. T h e first sight of Delos must have been a great moment for those great 'concourses, both of Ionians and of the islanders round about' whom Thucydides describes as making annual pilgrimages to the shrine of Latona and Apollo by water. Hobbes's translation, 1676, p. 134." 5 1 It is unlikely that Milton was thinking of a mirage. 5 2 Fitzgerald writes to Charles Eliot Norton: "Tennyson again used to say that the two grandest of all Similes were those of the Ships hanging in the Air, and 'the Gunpowder one' [P.L., Bk. IV, II. 814-819. See Ch. 3], which he
123
Nature
and f o r anyone a seventeenth-century ship must have been a thing of beauty, in particular when equipped with its long and purely decorative pennants : A t Dalilah's approach the Chorus exclaims B u t w h o is this, w h a t thing of Sea or L a n d ? Female of sex it seems, T h a t so bedeckt, ornate, and gay, Comes this w a y sailing L i k e a stately Ship
Tarsus, bound for th' Of Javan or Gadier
Of
Isles
W i t h all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails fill'd, and streamers waving,
by all the winds that hold them p l a y . " (S.A., I, 3 6 2 ) T w o further images do not necessarily suggest a sea voyage but do show an awareness of the sea. W h e n Satan g a v e his haughty answer to the loyal Abdiel, his followers approved : Courted
as the sound of waters deep H o a r c e murmur echo'd to his words applause.
(P.L.,
II,
175)
A f t e r Christ has repulsed one effort, Satan continues to tempt him, as surging waves against a solid rock, T h o u g h all to shivers dash't, the assault renew, V a i n battry, and in froth or bubbles end. II, 4 5 9 - 4 6 0 )
(P.R.,
Basically this simile is commonplace, but the last line gives it freshness and shows that Milton had his eye on the obused slowly and grimly to enact, in the Days that are no more." Letters of Edward Fitzgerald (Macmillan, 1894), II, 193. 93 G. M . Young ( T L S , J a n . 9, 1937, p. 28) notes a similar figure in Harrington, A Word concerning a House of Peers, 1659: In comes the Commonwealth . . . with all its tackling, full sail, displaying its streamers, and flourishing with top and top-gallant. (Milton has also some details suggestive of the description of Cleopatra's barge in Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra. Dover Wilson, TLS, J a n . 16, 1937, p. 44). Harrington is hardly the source for Milton. It is more probable that both derive from a common source: either observation, if the dressing of a ship with streamers was a sufficiently ordinary occurrence; or accounts of sea-life.
124
Nature
ject. It seems clear, therefore, that once he had had an experience with the sea he found its appeal strong. T h i s appeal, as well as the others that we have been considering, was, of course, to his sense perceptions. In this connection, since almost all the evidence is furnished by the nature images, we must here analyze the physical effect that Milton's blindness had upon him. 54 A pronounced effect is hardly to be expected, as he did not wholly lose his sight until he was forty-four. Y e t there is a perceptible change. W e are told by M i s s Eleanor G . Brown, who went blind early in her life and who bases her conclusions on her own experience as well as on medical authority, that " i t is likely that the senses of odor, touch, and sound, which M i l t o n manifested in his early poetry became even more acute in his blindness." 65 T h i s is precisely the change that the images reveal. e e It should, however, be realized that this increased acuteness is, so to speak, retroactive and includes not only experiences of his late years but also recollections of his early life which might otherwise have faded. Furthermore, it should be realized that with Milton, as with anyone else, the overwhelming majority of his sense impressions were visual, as is fully demonstrated by the passages already quoted. Consequently, even a f t e r his blindness, his images remained prevailingly visual. T h e largest group of his visual images are those of brightness. T h e r e are so many of these that it might perhaps be said that he thought more in terms of light and darkness than of color.® 7 Some are purely sensory : dew has the shimmer of glass beads or pearls ; truth excels the orient lustre 64 All the evidence, that is, which is figurative. Obviously, much of it is not figurative, so that the question cannot be completely answered by means of imagery alone. However, since no answer has as yet been attempted, even partial and tentative conclusions are of value. (New York, 1934), p. 136. * · The images of taste, which throw no light on the problem, are included under the discussion of food, Chapter 2. 17 The light is often specifically that of the sun. See Chapter 4.
" Milton't Blindnest
Nature
125
of a d i a m o n d ; the spangled host of stars are b l a z i n g diamonds and living sapphires, and so on. T h e g r e a t majority of light images, h o w e v e r , h a v e s t r o n g m o r a l connotations; light symbolizes goodness o r k n o w l e d g e , darkness evil or ignorance. 5 8 T h i s idea, commonplace in itself, 5 9 pervades his writing, and the variations he plays on the theme are remarkable. It appears as one o f the basic concepts o f Paradise Lost, w h e r e the brilliance of G o d , heaven, and the angels is contrasted to the darkness o f hell and the progressive dimming of Satan's lustre. It appears equally prominently in his early works. T h e person of the infant Christ is, o f course, as bright as that of the F a t h e r ; 0 0 he is T h a t glorious Form, that L i g h t unsufferable, A n d that far-beaming blaze of M a j e s t y ; (Nat.
Ode, I, 1 )
the discovery of truth resembles the dawn, a commonplace that M i l t o n turns into a satiric thrust at the P r e s b y t e r i a n s : H e w h o hears what praying there is for light and clearer knowledge to be sent down among us, would think of other matters to be constituted beyond the discipline of Geneva . . . Y e t when the new light which w e beg for shines in upon us, there be w h o envy, and oppose, if it come not first in at their casements; ( A r e o . , I V , 347)
truth is direct, error reflected light : [ M i l t o n dislikes being] put from beholding the bright countenance of truth . . . to come into the dim reflexion of hollow antiquities ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 4 1 )
virtue shines o u t w a r d l y : Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd So clear, as in no face with more delight ; ( " M e t h o u g h t I s a w , " I, 6 9 ) M See Chapter 3, the start of a j o u r n e y ; Chapter 4, the coming of spring, and the sun. N e a r l y half are commonplaces: the light of reason, the light of nature, etc. 8 8 For Milton it doubtless originated in the Bible, w h e r e it is found many times. 6 0 See A r t h u r Barker, " T h e Pattern of Milton's Nativity Ode," University of Toronto Quarterly, X , No. a (January, 1941), 167-181.
Nature
I2Ó as well as inwardly:
H e that has light within his own cleer brest M a y sit i' th' center, and enjoy bright day, B u t he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day Sun. ( C o m u s , I, 9 9 )
Closely allied to his partly sensuous and partly moral use of brightness is his use of color, an aspect of his visual sense that is purely physical. 0 1 Of his color images the largest single group is concerned with the varied hues of flowers and clouds : 6 2 in Eden, flowers with rich inlay Broiderd the ground ; (P.L., I I , 1 3 1 )
at sunrise we see T h e clouds in thousand Liveries dight. {L'Ali.,
I, 3 6 )
T h e mingled colors of the countryside also appear several times, notably in the splendid lines of Comus, derived, no doubt, f r o m S h a k e s p e a r e : 0 3 Neptune rules the Sea-girt lies T h a t like to rich, and various gemms inlay T h e unadorned boosom of the Deep. {Comus,
I, 86)
It will be noticed that the second of these passages is poetic hyperbole, and that the others, fine as they are, show the vagueness of imagination rather than the sharpness of direct observation. H e is fond of generalized effects where color is implied but not stated specifically, a fact which suggests that his color sense was not very discriminating. T h i s suggestion is borne out by his use of individual colors, a use neither extensive nor subtle. H e speaks of the grey, red, and yellow of sunrise; of the purple and gold of sunset; of the grey of twilight; and of the silver and amber of the 01 A small number employ white and black, like light and dark, in a moral sense: the whiteness and innocence of divine law; the black deeds of Morus, and the like. 62 A smaller group has to do with the colors in clothes: rich robes, painted feathers, and a fool's motley. See Chapter 1. 83 "This precious stone set in the silver sea" {Richard II, II, 1, 46).
Nature
12η
moon. H e mentions green grass, ivy, flower-stalks, and water; black mist and thunder-clouds; white cliffs and snow; red lightning, the " g l o r i o u s " poppy, the blushing anemone, the purple hyacinth, dark ( " b r o w n " ) myrtles, pale ( " w a n " ) cowslips, and "sad"-colored flowers; and gold, purple, azure, and green butterflies. 84 It is worth remarking that mist is not black, nor lightning red, but aside f r o m these inaccuracies his sense of color seems normal, 6 5 and shows the same pattern throughout, almost every color being mentioned both early and late. H o w e v e r , these references are significant in that considerably more of them occur b e f o r e his blindness than after, β β although the difference is not decisive. Another significant fact is that the late poems do not make use of color where we might expect it; to cite only a f e w examples, the air is easily mixed, fluid, pure, still, gently breathing, but never blue; dewdrops are like stars, not like diamonds; a drop of water on the dust is conglobed—its shape is noted but not its color. 0 7 T h e s e differences are not in themselves conclusive, but they do suggest that in his later years he became less conscious of color. T h e evidence of the images of smell points to the opposite conclusion. 68 In the early poems we find 63 the fragrance e< Outside of his nature images there are a f e w scattering color references: grey authority, locks white as down, the ruddy flame of a furnace mouth, and the like. 65 T h e "three listed colours g a y " of the rainbow were then normal, as orly the primary colors of red, yellow, and blue were counted. ββ Forty-one early, 27 late. 67 Compare M a r v e l ' s dewdrop "dark beneath but bright above" (On a Drnp of Dew). In his prose Milton uses a water drop as a symbol of purity. Selfrcverence is the fountainhead of virtuous action, but it "hath in it a most restraining and powerfull abstinence to start back, and glob it self upward from the mixture of any . . . unbeseeming motion, or any soile wherewith it may peril to stain it s e l f " (R. CA. Gov., I l l , 260). 98 A large number, like some of the color images, are given a moral significance. W e find the scent of adultery, the reek of flattery, the stench of avarice, and the like. T h e most effective image characterizes the books that a censor would have to read in order to pass judgement upon them. T h i s task is "an imposition which I cannot beleeve how he that . . . is but of a sensible nostrill should be able to endure" (Arto., I V , 3 2 2 ) . ββ In addition to non-figurative references to flowers, syrups, and spices.
Nature
128
of marigolds and roses, and less particularly of dawn 7 0 and of s p r i n g ; 7 1 we find the beautiful, and f o r M i l t o n very rare, use o f smell to describe s o u n d : [ T h e Lady's song] a soft and solemn breathing sound Rose like a stream of rich distill'd perfumes; (Comus, I, 105)
and w e find the wind scattering the smell of spices : A n d W e s t winds w i t h musky w i n g A b o u t the cedar'n alleys fling Nard,
a n d Cassia s b a l m y s m e l s . {Comus,
I,
122)
Y e t these images hardly compare in number and quality to those of the late poems. In them we find as b e f o r e the f r a g r a n c e of flowers: the bright consummate floure Spirits odorous breathes ; 7 2 (P.L., I I , 161 ) [ A t the creation of the earth the herbs] made gay H e r bosom smelling sweet; (P.L., II, 223)
but this is now carried to the extreme o f hyperbole : Eve separate he spies, Veild in a Cloud of Fragrance, where she stood, Half spi'd, so thick the Roses bushing round A b o u t her glowd. (P.L., II, 2 7 5 )
T h e picture is one of g r e a t beauty, our enjoyment o f which is heightened by our remembering that M i l t o n elsewhere tells us that the roses were " w i t h o u t t h o r n . " A g a i n , the idea of the wind's scattering odor is e l a b o r a t e d : at the banquet prepared by Satan, winds O f gentlest gale Arabian odors fann'd From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. ( P . R . , II, 437)
H e r e we find the odors of both spices and flowers ( " e a r l i e s t " may r e f e r either to spring or to d a w n ) , and in addition the s o f t touch of the air. 7 3 In another passage we find also its 70 72 73
7 1 See a b o v e . See a b o v e . F o r the entire i m a g e see a b o v e , the c h a i n of b e i n g : " S o f r o m the root" etc. See b e l o w , imagée c o n c e r n i n g a i r .
Nature
I2Ç
soft sound as well as the songs of birds : 7 4 as A d a m led E v e to the nuptial bower, the Earth Gave sign of gratulation, and each Hill ; Joyous the Birds; fresh Gales and gentle Aires Whisper'd it to the Woods, and from thir wings Flung Rose, flung Odours from the spicie Shrub, Disporting, till the amorous Bird of Night Sung Spousal, and bid haste the Eevning Starr On his Hill top, to light the bridal Lamp. ( P . L . , II, 253-254) Finally, we have the elaborate description of the Garden of Eden heightened and enriched with echoes of his reading: 7 5 now gentle gales Fanning thir odoriferous wings dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmie spoiles. As when to them who saile Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Moiambic, off at Sea North-East windes blow Sabean Odours from the spicie shoare Of Arabie the blest, with such delay Well pleas'd they slack thir course, and many a League Chear'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles. So entertaind those odorous sweets the Fiend Who came thir bane, though with them better pleas'd Then Asmodeus with the fishie fume, That drove him, though enamourd, from the Spouse Of Tobits Son, and with a vengeance sent From Media post to λEgypt, there fast bound. ( P . L . , II, 1 1 2 ) T h e perfumes are native to the Garden of Eden, yet they are as delightful as the exotic odors blown by the ocean wind from Arabia, as Diodorus Siculus tells us; and are especially delicious in contrast to the disgusting stench that, according to the book of Tobit, routed the demon. Furthermore, in addition to these literary exhalations, we 74
See below f o r other images of the sound of a i r . From his reading comes also the simile of a volcanic eruption with its thunderous noise and its stench. See below, note 97. 75
Nature
130
find a new and striking contrast between the unpleasant city and the pleasant country smells : A s one who long in populous City pent, Where Houses thick and Sewers annoy the Aire, Forth issuing on a Summers Morn to breathe Among the pleasant Villages and Farmes Adjoynd, from each thing met conceaves delight, T h e smell of Grain, or tedded Grass, or Kine, O r Dairie, each rural sight, each rural sound ; If chance with Nymphlike step fair Virgin pass, W h a t pleasing seemd, for her now pleases more, She most, and in her look summs all Delight. Such Pleasure took the Serpent to behold This Flourie Plat, the sweet recess of Eve. (P.L.,
II, 2 7 6 )
T h o u g h the simile culminates in a visual image, there are no less than six specific odors listed in contrast to the generalized delights of "each rural sight, each rural sound." In his reaction to the sounds of nature a somewhat surprising detail is the large number of references, figurative or direct, 70 to the song of birds, particularly the nightingale. It is surprising because, f o r the most part, the singing is merely mentioned but not described and is therefore not made especially conspicuous. Only two images avoid such general phrasing as "melodious sound" and the like. One, the metaphor of his hearing Shakespeare Warble his native Wood-notes wilde, ( L ' A l i . , I, 3 9 )
suggests the delightful, but irregular and uninstructed cadences of a bird's song, contrasted by implication to the artificial symmetry of man-made music; and the other turns, even more specifically, on the monotony of the cuckoo's cry : how weakly is the using of sett forms [of prayer in the church service] attributed . . . to constancy, as if it were constancie in the Cuckoo to be alwaies in the same liturgie. (Eikon., V , 2 2 4 )
E v e n here, however, he is f a r less definite than Wordsworth with his extraordinarily exact description of the cuckoo's 76
See Chapters 4 and 5.
Nature " t w o - f o l d s h o u t . " 77 Y e t these images show no change in quantity or quality throughout M i l t o n ' s writing, and throw no light on the problem under consideration. T h e images recording the sound of wind or storm are, however, very suggestive. B e f o r e his blindness we find only two. T h e first describes the night of Christ's birth : T h e W i n d s with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kist,
Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean. (Nat. Ode, I, 3-4) It will be observed that this is not really a sound image. A gentle wind playing over the surface of calm water would not w h i s p e r ; it would not make any sound at all. M i l t o n is here not trying to record a sense impression but is merely p e r s o n i f y i n g nature in building up a mood. T h e second image, a personification of morning "civil-suited" and " k e r c h i e f e d , " ends in a sharply detailed description of the leaves rustling and the drops falling slowly f r o m the eaves. 7 8 T o put against this single early image we have five late images: the whisp e r i n g — t h e w o r d is now accurately u s e d — o f the wind on the flowers and l e a v e s : [ A d a m whispered to E v e ] with voice Milde, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes; ( P . L . , II, 144) [ A s A d a m led Eve to the nuptial bower] the Earth G a v e sign of gratulation, and each H i l l ; Joyous the Birds ; fresh Gales and gentle Aires Whisper'd it to the Woods ; ( P.L., II, 2 5 3 - 2 5 4 )
and the various stages of a storm. 7 0 Its approach : 8 0 [ T h e G r e a t Consult breaks up] T h i r rising all at once was as the sound O f T h u n d e r heard remote; (P.L., II, 5 4 - 5 5 ) 7 7 T h e r e a r e also a f e w i m a g e s of the noises of a n i m a l s , and t w o or t h r e e d r a w n f r o m sources other than n a t u r e : the j a n g l i n g of city bells, t h e u p r o a r of a city's destruction, etc. 7 8 T h e p a s s a g e is quoted a b o v e in the i m a g e s of d a w n . 7 9 F o r the v i s u a l effect of the w i n d in the g r a i n see a b o v e , in the discussion of f a r m i n g . M i l t o n has a good many figures of thunder, l i g h t n i n g , and w i n d . 8 0 See b e l o w , the j o i n i n g of t w o storm c l o u d s : " S u c h a f r o w n , " etc.
Nature
132
the d o w n p o u r o f rain, o r p e r h a p s s l e e t : 8 1 [Zophiel tells the loyal angels before the battle in heaven] this day will pour down, If I conjecture aught, no drizling showr, But ratling storm of Arrows barbd with fire ; ( P . L . , II, 197) and the l o n g continued a f t e r e f f e c t s : He scarce had finisht, when such murmur filld Th'Assembly, as when hollow Rocks retain The sound of blustring winds, which all night long Had rous'd the Sea, now with hoarse cadence lull Sea-faring men orewatcht, whose Bark by chance O r Pinnace anchors in a craggy Bay After the Tempest : Such applause was heard As Mammon ended. ( P . L . , II, 48) E q u a l l y s u g g e s t i v e a r e the i m a g e s r e c o r d i n g the sound of w a t e r . 8 2 N o t one o f these is e a r l y ; all occur in Paradise
Lost
and show a w i d e r a n g e o f e f f e c t s : the s w i f t and a l m o s t inaudible flow o f a rivulet, a f t e r the flood the sun m a d e the waters shrink From standing lake to tripping ebbe, that stole With soft foot towards the deep ; ( P . L . , II, 375-376) its cascading in s p r a y and mist : [Adam awoke from his sleep] which th' only Sound O f leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan, Lightly dispers'd, and the shrill Matin Song Of Birds on every bough; (P.L., II, 144) the quiet m u r m u r o f a full s t r e a m : [Adam wishes more information] as one whose drouth Yet scarce allay'd still eyes the current streame, Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites; (P.L., II, 214) See below, the a r r o w s of the Parthians. Nearly all of his images of w a t e r are visual : to pour, flow, overflow, flood ; a fountain, stream d i v i d i n g into t w o branches, flowing muddily, etc. T h e r e is one fine personification: as the flood subsided, the w i n d " W r i n k l ' d the face of Deluge, as decai'd" (PL., II, 375). 81
83
Nature
133
and the roar of a river in spate or of dashing waves : [God's] Chariot rowld, as with the sound Of torrent Floods; ( P . L . , II, 207) [Satan spoke in scorn to Abdiel] and as the sound of waters deep Hoarce murmur echo'd to his words applause. (P.L., II, 175)
This class of images, then, presents strong evidence that, after his blindness, Milton became more conscious of the sounds of nature or tended to think more in terms of sound. A s an experiment to check the reliability of this evidence, an analysis was made of all the non-figurative references to the appearance or sound of water in four early poems (Comus, L'Allegro, II Penseroso, and Lycidas) and three late poems (Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes). In the early poems the references are almost entirely visual: 8 3 the dimpled brook, the glassy cool translucent wave, the wide-watered shore, smooth-sliding Mincius, and the like. T h e only sound references are: the barking waves of Scylla and the soft applause of Charybdis, the water's murmuring, and the sounding seas. Even when allowance is made for the fact that a writer has a wider choice of sight words than of sound words, it is clear that in these poems the former are used with f a r more discrimination than the latter. T h e late poems are markedly different. T h e visual references are about the same in quality as before: the cool crystalline stream, lucid streams, silver lakes, and so on, although it could be argued that no one descriptive adjective is as successful as the early "dimpled" or "smooth-sliding." They are, however, f a r less in quantity, while the sound references have increased in number, 84 and improved in quality : the murmuring sound of waters, the liquid lapse of murmuring streams, the whispering stream, the murmuring water's fall, the purling brook. They are still not equal to the 83
T w e n t y - f i v e sight, 4 sound.
84
E l e v e n sight, 5 sound.
Nature
134
sight references, but they are decidedly better than they were. T h e non-figurative passages, therefore, agree with the images in revealing an increase in emphasis on sound in his late work. 8 6 T h e touch images show a similar change in emphasis. M a n y , it is true, are commonplace. W e find heat and cold always given a moral meaning: the bishops are hot Volumists and cold Bishops.
(AnimIll,
174)
W e find the inflexibility of steel, the softness of snow and dew, the fragility of cobwebs, the heaviness of lead, the hardness of stone, rock, adamant, and flint. But we also find the very unusual hardness of ice or of substances frozen together : our Saviours w o r d s touching divorce, are as it w e r e congeal'd into a stony r i g o r ;
(Doct. Div.,
Ill,
383) [ P h a r a o h ] oft
H u m b l e s his stubborn heart, but still as Ice M o r e hard'nd after t h a w ; ( P . L . , I I , 3 8 5 ) [ T h e obedient unanimity produced by censorship w o u l d be] doubtles a stanch and solid peece of f r a m e - w o r k , as any J a n u a r y could freeze together;
{Arto., I V ,
335)
w e may as soon fall again into a grosse conforming stupidity, a stark and dead congealment of together;86
(Areo., I V ,
wood and hay and stubble
forc't and frozen
349)
A few other miscellaneous images, both early and late, are also fresh : [ N a t u r e ] set to w o r k millions of spinning W o r m s , T h a t in their green shops w e a v e the smooth-hair'd silk ;
(Cornus,
I,
111-112)
[ A child is a ] S o f t silken P r i m r o s e ;
(On the Death of a fair Infant, I, 15)
80
T h i s is a change peculiar to Milton. Shakespeare, f o r instance, is prevailingly visual, Wordsworth, to a much higher degree, auditory. ' • T h e italicized phrase is f r o m I Corinthians 3: 12, but the figure there is that of building on a foundation.
Nature
135
[ E x c o m m u n i c a t i o n h a s ] such a penetrating force, that s w i f t e r then any chimicall sulphur . . .
it scorches the inmost soul ;
(R. Ch. Gov.,
Ill, 266)
[ P a r t h i a n s ] shot S h a r p sleet of a r r o w i e showers against the face O f thir pursuers. ( P . R . , I I , 4 5 3 )
One touch image is used very effectively to heighten the emotion at an important point in Paradise Lost. J u s t a f t e r A d a m has eaten the apple, he and E v e lie down on the lap of earth. In the Vacation Exercise and in an earlier book of Paradise Lost87 this lap is described as flowery; here the specific flowers produce a richer effect of color : F l o u r s w e r e the C o u c h , Pansies, and Violets, and A s p h o d e l , A n d H y a c i n t h , E a r t h s freshest softest lap, ( P . L . , I I , 2 9 7 )
and to make the experience more luxurious, more sensuous than b e f o r e the f a l l the flowers are also f r a g r a n t and s o f t . A l l these images, while successful, show no chronological change. In the late poems, however, is found a group recording f o r the first time, with one exception, 88 a sensitivity to the movement and quality of the air. Only once is the experience disagreeable: B u t prayer against his [ G o d ' s ] absolute D e c r e e N o more availes then breath against the w i n d e , B l o w n stifling back on him that breaths it forth. ( P . L . , I I , 3 5 6 )
Once, the air is completely silent and breathless : [ S a t a n ' s ] look D r e w audience and attention still as N i g h t O r Summers Noon-tide air. ( P . L . , I I , 4 8 - 4 9 )
F o r the most part M i l t o n is conscious of its freshness, coolness, purity, and gentleness. T h e opening lines of Samson Agonist es express the delight of being able to feel the w a r m t h 87
P.L., Bk. I V , 1. 254. A d a m , however, wakens " s o f t on the flowery herb" (P.L., Bk. V I I I , 1. 2 5 4 ) · 88 Milton does not wish to leave "the quiet and still air of delightful) studies" ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 4 1 ) .
Nature
i$6
of the sun, the cool of the shade, and in particular the reviving stir of wind, the breath of heaven : A Little onward lend thy guiding hand T o these dark steps, a little further on ; F o r yonder bank hath choice of Sun or shade, T h e r e I am wont to sit, when any chance Relieves me from my task of servile toyl, Daily in the common Prison else enjoyn'd me, W h e r e I a Prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw T h e air imprison'd also, close and damp, Unwholsom draught: but here I feel amends, T h e breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet, W i t h day-spring born. {S.A., I, 3 3 7 )
T h e adjectives contrasting the two kinds of air m a k e clear the poignancy of such an elementary experience. T h e r e can be little doubt that M i l t o n is here describing how he f e l t on any occasion a f t e r his blindness when he went outdoors in the dawn of a clear day. I t is possible, however, that he is describing an even more moving experience. Soon a f t e r the Restoration, he w a s , f o r a short period, under a r r e s t and presumably actually in prison. 8 9 T h i s passage may be based on his recollection of his confinement, " I n darkness, and with dangers compast r o u n d , " and of his being led out, f r e e and s a f e , a f t e r the A c t of Oblivion. H o w e v e r this m a y be, 9 0 it is certain that he makes use of his own sensations in a later passage in the same p o e m . 9 1 Samson's g r i e f s are like festering wounds, his thoughts Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise Dire inflammation which no cooling herb O r medcinal liquor can asswage, N o r breath of Vernal A i r from snowy Alp.
(S.A.,
I, 3 5 9 )
T h i s sudden j u m p f r o m a cool draught of medicine to a cool mountain breeze is totally unexpected and highly effective. 88
90
Masson, The Life of John Milton, VI, 184-195. It
19 true that the composition of Satnion Açonistes cannot be dated, but there seems no reason to doubt that it w a s at least subsequent to 1660. 11 T h e passage ¡9 discussed as a medical image in Chapter 2.
Nature
137
M i l t o n breathed such A l p i n e air when he journeyed f r o m Italy to S w i t z e r l a n d in the f p r i n g of 1639, 8 2 and he recalled its keen purity some thirty y e a r s later. C o o l air is especially g r a t e f u l in summer. It may rise in light puffs f r o m the surface of a stream : Satan tempted d r e a m i n g E v e that he might taint T h ' animal Spirits that f r o m pure blood arise L i k e gentle breaths from Rivers p u r e ; ( P . L . , I I , 1 3 5 )
or it m a y be felt in the shadow of a passing c l o u d : Satan hoped that C h r i s t W o u l d stand between me and thy Fathers ire . . . A shelter and a kind of shading cool Interposition, as a summers cloud. ( P . R . , I I , 4 5 0 )
N o less d e l i g h t f u l than the coolness of the air is its purity, a characteristic o f the yet innocent earth and in particular of E d e n : A s Satan d r a w s near it, of pure n o w purer aire M e e t s his approach. {P.L·., I I ,
111-112)
Its gentleness is recorded in three late descriptions of odorous winds, a detail which is unmentioned in early images of the same type. 9 3 T o sum up the evidence, we may say that the sensory images indicate that M i l t o n ' s response to nature underwent a change. H i s visual sense, j u d g i n g f r o m his use of color, weakened, but his other s e n s e s — s m e l l , hearing, and t o u c h — b e c a m e m o r e quick and sharp. In so doing, they showed a development characteristic of a man w h o goes blind. Finally, we come to a third class of nature images, which are neither philosophic nor sensory but literary. M o s t of these arise f r o m M i l t o n ' s subject matter. In many of the figures which h a v e already been discussed he conveys an imM He left Venice in May and was in Geneva on June io, 1639 (Masson, op. cit., I, 776-779). " See the wind images above.
Nature
138
pression o f the hugeness, m i g h t , o r dignity o f S a t a n , o r o f the multitude o f the f o r c e s he c o m m a n d s . 9 4 O f t e n , h o w e v e r , he can find n o t h i n g in his f a m i l i a r e n v i r o n m e n t o r in his m e m o r i e s t h a t would enable him to produce the
desired
effect. I n such cases he has recourse t o his r e a d i n g . F o r example, when s u r r o u n d e d by G a b r i e l ' s angelic g u a r d Satan allarm'd Collecting all his might dilated stood, Like Teneriff or Allas unremov'd. ( P . L . , II, 1 4 1 )
P r e s u m a b l y M i l t o n used these mountains, which he had not seen, r a t h e r than such A l p s as he had seen because they w e r e not only f a m o u s but also m o r e a p p r o p r i a t e ; T e n e r i f f e , a single island p e a k , e m p h a s i z e s S a t a n ' s i s o l a t i o n ; the legendary A t l a s , s t r o n g and high enough t o support the heavens, e m p h a s i z e s his p o w e r . A g a i n , when S a t a n and D e a t h c o n f r o n t one a n o t h e r , such a frown Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow T o joyn thir dark Encounter in mid air. ( P . L . , II, 6 3 )
T h e s t o r m y C a s p i a n a p p e a r s s e v e r a l times in l i t e r a t u r e , 9 5 and this p a r t i c u l a r kind o f s t o r m is so unusual t h a t he was f a r m o r e likely t o h a v e r e a d about it than to h a v e experienced it. A g a i n , as the causeway f r o m H e l l is built, t h e scene is h a r d l y m o r e d r e a d f u l than the wild d e s o l a t i o n o f the A r c t i c ice fields described by the v o y a g e r s . Sin and D e a t h pile up the crude elements o f c h a o s A s when two Polar Winds blowing adverse Upon the Cronian Sea, together drive Mountains of Ice, that stop th' imagin'd way See this chapter, passim. Horace, Odts, I I , 9, 2. S i m i l a r references in T a s s o , Jerusalem Delivered, V I , 3 8 ; and Spenser, Faerie Queene, II, vii, 14, doubtless d e r i v e f r o m Horace. 93
Nature
139
Beyond Petsora Eastward, to the rich Cathaian Coast. ( P . L . , II, 3 1 4 - 3 1 5 ) In like manner, the fallen angels a r e as numberless as the hot sands of the N o r t h A f r i c a n d e s e r t , 9 8 a n d w h e n transf o r m e d to snakes s w a r m m o r e thickly than those on the I s l a n d of O p h i u s a
( n o w F o r m e n t e r a , one of the
g r o u p ) ; H e l l is as bottomless as an E g y p t i a n " t h a t Serbotiian
Balearic
quicksand,
b o g , " and looks like the c r a t e r of a v o l c a n o
a f t e r an eruption. 9 7 S o , too, S a m s o n tugs at the pillars of the temple with the f o r c e of an e a r t h q u a k e . O n other occasions the bookish i m a g e s are m o r e unexpected. M i l t o n could h a v e f o u n d fitting ones in his environment, but he r e m e m b e r e d w h a t he h a d r e a d r a t h e r than w h a t he h a d e x p e r i e n c e d :
98
[Corruption from foreign books] will finde a passage to the people farre easier and shorter then an Indian voyage, though it could be sail'd either by the North of Calato Eastward, or of Canada Westward ; (AreoIV, 313) [Milton mentions a topic on which he feels strongly] I am come to a streame head copious enough to disburden it selfe like Nilus at seven mouthes into an ocean; ( E n g l i s h Correspondence, XII, 324-325) [If Parliament and the people had referred the King's death back and forth to one another] what resting place had there been in this Euripus 36 In two other figures Milton refers to the power of the sun over the desert of Libya and to the scorched and scorching air. " See Chapter 6, note 143. 98 In some cases the origin of the image must remain doubtful. For example, a flower heavy with dew is a common enough sight: D a l i l a h with head declin'd Like a f a i r flower surcharg'd with dew, she weeps, (S.A., I, 363) but books are as likely a source, f o r the editors have noted similarities in Homer, Vergil, T a s s o , and Phineas Fletcher. A g a i n , Milton w a s on one occasion deeply impressed by a comet (see Chapter 4, notes 42 and 4 3 ) , but in > passage in Paradise Lost, when the angels came to banish A d a m and E v e T h e brandisht Sword of God before them blaz'd Fierce as a Comet; ( P . L . , II, 4 0 1 ) here he is probably echoing DuBartas's La Semaine, as translated by Sylvester: the entrance to Eden is guarded by A w a v i n g sword whose body shined bright Like flaming comet in the midst of night
(The Imposture; the Second Part of the Fir it Day of the lì
Week).
140
Nature
[a strait between Euboea and Boeotia with violent tides] ; (See. Def., V I I I ,
151)
[Milton is disputing with Bishop Hall about the meaning of a Biblical passage] But if your meaning be with a violent and bold Hyperbaton to transpose the Text, as if the Words lay thus in order, neglect not the gift of Presbytery ; this were a construction like a Harquebute shot over a File of words twelve deep without authority to bid them stoop, or to make the word gift like the River Mole in Surrey to runne under the bottome of a long Line, and so start up to governe the word Pretbyterie, as in immediate Syntaxis, a device ridiculous enough to make good that old wives tale of a certaine Queene of England that sunk at Charingcrosse, and rose up at Queene-hithe. (Anim., I l l , 1 4 9 )
H o w characteristic such a recourse to books is may be realized from the fact that this type of image is almost nonexistent outside of Milton. Furthermore, it should be remembered that the imagery by no means reveals all of the use to which he puts his extensive knowledge of geography. "One has only to think, f o r example, of the appeal to the nymphs in Lycidas, of the lines describing the worship of Moloch and Chemos, of the passage enumerating the farflung places mysteriously revealed to Adam in Paradise Lost, and of the similar roll of cities and countries in Paradise Regained to realize the importance and the beauty of the geographical elements in Milton's poetry." 99 This geography included a careful study of contemporary maps, which together with "the related explanation are indisputably part of the actual stuff with which Milton's creative imagination worked." 1 0 0 T o Milton, then, nature, in a philosophical sense, meant the world both created and creating, the creature and agent of God; in an aesthetic sense, it meant the spring flowers and gardens of England, the clouds of the English skies, the colors of dawn and sunset, and the varied aspects of the sea and sea life; in an intellectual sense, it meant the wonders ·· G. W. Whiting, Milton's Literary Milieu (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1939), p. 94. 100 Hid., p. 96. For an image illustrating this point see Chapter 5, note 22.
Nature
141
found in the pages of ancient historians and Elizabethan explorers, and on the imaginative maps with their sportive monsters and their roll call of golden names, " M o m b a z a and Quiloa and M e l i n d . " I t is this last bookish element t h a t is peculiarly Miltonic.
CHAPTER
5
Animals
E
VER since he could write, man, secure in the knowledge that animals could not, has used them as the basis f o r derogatory comparisons. Milton so fully avails himself of his human privilege that nearly half of his animal imagery is of this kind. M o s t of it, swinish gluttony and the like, is, of course, familiar to us and needs no special comment. T h i s triteness is particularly true of the early poems, yet we may note a few images in the Prolusions because they embody Milton's characteristic dislike of the curriculum of Cambridge and of his contemporaries. Logic, in itself a noble subject, is so mistaught that Here, not men, but just finches indeed feed on thistles and thorns ; (Prolusion VII, ΧII, 2 7 7 )
philosophy has reached a point where plausible arguments are to be found on both sides of every question, leaving the wretched reader . . . long tossed and torn this way and that, as it were between two monsters, and almost killed with weariness. (Prolusion IF, X I I , 1 7 7 )
Y e t the studies are no worse than the students, many of whom have cast off all concern for time, character, or health by eating and drinking after the manner of sea beasts. (Prolusion VII, X I I , 2 7 5 )
If such men call Milton effeminate, they merely show their usual folly : would that they could as easily lay aside their asshood as I whatever belongs to womanhood. (Prolusion VI, X I I , 2 4 1 )
L a t e r in his career, Milton is equally contemptuous of his fellow citizens who
Animals
H3
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp. (On the Detraction,
I, 62)
I did no more, he says, than recommend greater liberty When strait a barbarous noise environs me Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs. 1 (I did but prompt, I, 62) A s i d e f r o m these outbursts, there is little to remark in the early poems, as they do not offer M i l t o n much opportunity f o r disparagement.T h e prose, however, offers him an almost unlimited opportunity. T h e first object of his attack is the episcopal system. 3 Prelacy, more horrible than any ordinary beast, can be likened only to a mythical monster: More like that huge dragon of Egypt breathing out wast, and desolation to the land, unlesse he were daily fatn'd with virgins blood. Him our old patron Saint George . . . slew . . . And if our Princes and Knights will imitate . . . that old champion . . . farre be it that they should uphold and side with this English Dragon ; but rather . . they should . . . pursue & vanquish this mighty saile-wing'd monster * that menaces to swallow up the Land, unlesse her bottomlesse gorge may be satisfi'd with the blood of the Kings daughter the Church ; and may . . . fill her dark and infamous den with the bones of the Saints ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 7 5 ) But M i l t o n does not stop here. T h e dragon of
Christian
legend recalls to his mind the serpent of classical legend, the python produced f r o m the mud left on the earth a f t e r the deluge of Deucalion, and ultimately slain by A p o l l o . M i l t o n continues : 1 H i s critics a r e also hogs b e f o r e w h o m p e a r l s are cast, but this i m a g e is p r i m a r i l y a B i b l i c a l one. 2 C o m u s a n d his rout howl like " s t a b l ' d w o l v e s , or t i g e r s at their p r e y " ; his victims " r o u l e with pleasure in a sensual stie." In the sonnet to F a i r f a x , " n e w rebellions r a i s e T h i r H y d r a h e a d s , " a n d the f a l s e North imps "their serpent w i n g s . " T h e r e are other scattered i m a g e s in Comus a n d the L a t i n poems. 3 It is also attacked by B i b l i c a l , historical, and mythological comparisons, not i n v o l v i n g a n i m a l s . T h i s is also true of the other objects of Milton's attacks that a r e taken up in this chapter. 4 Milton is here thinking of Spenser's treatment of the St. G e o r g e story, Faerie Queene, I, xi, 10.
Animals
144
Nor will any one have reason to think this as too incredible . . . to be spok'n of Prelaty, if he consider well from what a masse of slime and mud, the sloathful, the covetous and ambitious hopes of Churchpromotions and fat Bishopricks she is bred up and nuzzl'd in, like a great Python from her youth, to prove the general poyson both of doctrine and good discipline in the Land. For certainly such hopes and such principles of earth as these wherein she welters from a yong one, are the immédiat generation both of a slavish and tyrannous life to follow, and a pestiferous contagion to the whole Kingdom, till like that fenborn serpent she be shot to death with the darts of the sun, the pure and powerful beams of Gods word. 5 {ibid.) T h e b i s h o p s t h e m s e l v e s , as w e l l as the s y s t e m c o n s i d e r e d in the a b s t r a c t , a r e r e p t i l i a n . In an i n d i g n a n t rush of
mixed
metaphor Milton exclaims: T h e soure levin of humane Traditions mixt in one putrif'd Masse with the poisonous dregs of hypocrisie in the hearts of Prelates that lye basking in the Sunny warmth of Wealth, and Promotion, is the Serpents Egge that will hatch an Antichrist wheresoever, and ingender the same Monster as big, or little as the Lump is which breeds him . . . wee shall see Antichrist shortly wallow heere, though his cheife Kennell be at Rome." (Ref., I I I , 54) Again : [Bishops] dissever'd principles were but like the mangl'd pieces of a gash't Serpent, that now begun to close, and grow together Popish againe. (Anim., I l l , 1 1 7 ) A n i n d i v i d u a l b i s h o p is of the s a m e s e r p e n t b r o o d . B i s h o p H a l l is a v i p e r ; h e flings out stray crimes at a venture, which he could never, though he be a Serpent, suck from any thing that I have written ; but from his own stufft magazin . . . of slanderous inventions, over and above that which he converted to venóme in the drawing; (Apol., I I I , 2 9 5 - 2 9 6 ) h e is s o q u i c k - s i g h t e d in finding u n t h o u g h t - o f t h i n g s in M i l t o n ' s t e x t t h a t h e can " s e e c l e a r e r then a n y f e n e l l r u b ' d S e r 5 0
See C h a p t e r 6, notée, 193, 2 1 7 , 2 3 1 . C f . "the dens and cages of her [ R o m e ' s ] uncleane w a l l o w i n g s "
(Apel., Ill, 356)·
Animals pent."
T
145
H a l l is other animals as w e l l : a m a l e v o l e n t f o x , a
b a r k i n g d o g , a neighing horse, even a seagull, p r o b a b l y either because the gull is g r e e d y or because it is a s c a v e n g e r : [I am] already weary of pluming [plucking] and footing [seizing in talons like a bird of prey] this Seagull, so open he lies to strokes ; and never offers at another, but brings home the dorre [mockery] upon himselfe. (Apol., I l l , 310) So, t o o , bishops are not merely snakes. T h e y a r e vultures g o r g i n g themselves on the bait of church livings, caterpillars secretly g n a w i n g at m o n a r c h y , dogs, dumb and g r e e d y , f o l l o w i n g the lure and whistle o f e a r t h l y p r e f e r m e n t , animals t h a t f e t c h and carry f o r a morsel ; they are r a v e n s t h a t w o u l d peck out the eyes o f all k n o w i n g Christians ; they a r e f a t t e n e d like b o a r s ; in a t t e m p t i n g to attain civil jurisdiction they m a k e the church into an ass bestriding a lion ; 8 t h e y are e a g e r disputants and little else : hot Volumists and cold Bishops : a swashbuckler against the Pope, and a dormouse against the Devil. ( Anim., I l l , 174) T h e y a r e but slightly train'd up in a kind of hypocritical and hackny [worn out like a tired horse ; trite] cours of literature to get their living by ; (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 273) H e n c e , w h e n they try to conduct a religious c o n t r o v e r s y , they b e h a v e like horses : when they have like good sumpters [pack horses] laid ye down their hors load of citations and fathers at your dore . . . ye may take off their packsaddles, their days work is don. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 241-242) 7 T h e folklore is from Pliny. See G . W . Whiting, Milton's Literary Milieu, p. 80. Additional folklore is in the f o l l o w i n g : "that Viper of Sedition, that . . . hath been breeding to eat through the entrais of our Peace; but let her cast her A b o r t i v e S p a w n e " (Ref., III, 7 7 ) . T h i s V u l g a r Error w a s refuted by Sir T h o m a s Browne. 8 T h i s is based on Christ's entry into Jerusalem and Paraeus's identification of the Lion of the T r i b e of Judah (Revelation 5 : 5 ) as Christ (Hughes, Milton Prose Selections, p. 120). Hughes gives a reference to Luke 19: 35—38, but Luke and M a r k speak of Christ's riding on a colt, M a t t h e w ( 2 1 : 5-8, and John (12:12—15) t o His riding on an ass.
Animals
I4Ô
I t is to such " c i t e r s o f C o u n s e l s and C o n c l a v e s " that M i l t o n d e v o t e s one of his l o n g e s t i m a g e s , in which they a p p e a r successively as f e r r e t s , w i l d b e a s t s , a n d w h a l e s : many of those that pretend to be great Rabbies in these studies . . . have bin but the Ferrets and Moushunts [weasels or other mousehunting animals] of an Index: yet what Pastor . . . does not now bring both his cheeks full blown with Oecumenical, and Synodical, shall be counted a lank, shallow, unsufficient man. . . . [Reformers can see their] drift in thus calling for Antiquity, they feare the plain field of the Scriptures ; the chase is too hot ; they seek the dark, the bushie, the tangled Forrest, they would imbosk: they feel themselvs strook in the transparent streams of divine Truth, they would plunge, and tumble, and thinke to Iy hid in the foul weeds, and muddy waters, where no plummet can reach the bottome. But let them beat themselvs like Whales, and spend their oyl till they be dradg'd ashoar: though wherfore should the Ministers give them so much line for shifts, and delays? ( R e f . , III, 3 4 - 3 5 ) T h e first t h r e e d i v o r c e p a m p h l e t s h a v e only one i m a g e t h a t need d e t a i n us, but this is a r e m a r k a b l e one in t h a t it has a certain c o n t e m p t u o u s h u m o r . M i l t o n ' s conclusion o f a l o n g a r g u m e n t is t h a t a m a r r i a g e in which t h e r e is no s p i r i t u a l contentment is not of Gods institution, and therfore no mariage. Nay in concluding this, I say we conclude no more then what the common Expositers themselves give us. . . . But the truth is, they give us in such a manner, as they who leav their own mature positions like the eggs of an Ostrich in the dust ; I do but lay them in the sun ; their own pregnancies hatch the truth ; and I am taxt of novelties and strange producements, while they, like that inconsiderat bird, know not that these are their own naturall breed. (Tetra., I V , 87-88) I n the f o u r t h d i v o r c e p a m p h l e t , h o w e v e r , w e find a l a r g e n u m b e r o f insulting
figures
d e s c r i p t i v e of M i l t o n ' s anony-
m o u s a d v e r s a r y . H e is a p o r k , a b a r r o w , 9 a snout : Hee passes to the third Argument, like a Boar in a Vinyard, doing nought els, but still as hee goes, champing and chewing over, what I could mean . . . notions and words never made for those chopps ; (Colasi., IV, 261) • Caitrated boar.
Animals
147
H i s doctrine came out o f some sty. H e is a hackney, a f o x , a brain-worm, an incogitant w o o d c o c k , 1 0 a cock-brained solicit o r . It is beneath M i l t o n to send a Reply to the buzze of such a Drones nest, (Colasi.,
I V , 238)
but he is so annoyed t h a t he must take v i g o r o u s action : But if a man . . . must bee infested, somtimes at his face, with dorrs [bees or hornets] and horsflies, somtimes beneath with bauling whippets, and shin-barkers [dogs barking at the shins] . . . w h a t defence can properly bee us'd in such a despicable encounter as this, but either the flap or the spurn? ( C o l a s i v I V , 2 7 1 - 2 7 2 )
In Eikonoklastes M i l t o n is c o m p a r a t i v e l y restrained. T o be sure, bishops and ministers are w o l v e s , 1 1 d o g s , and vermin, but the K i n g is the t a r g e t o f only f o u r i m a g e s : his r e m a r k about the escape o f the F i v e M e m b e r s is fit f o r a v u l t u r e at the escape of its p r e y ; his w o n d e r at a certain statement is f o x w o n d e r ; his s a y i n g that " a s Swine a r e t o G a r d e n s , so are T u m u l t s to P a r l a m e n t s " ignores the f a c t t h a t one great H o g g may doe as much mischief in a Garden, as many little Swine; ( E i k o n V , 1 1 5 )
his p o w e r of v e t o i n g acts of P a r l i a m e n t is a r e m o r a , " t h a t little pest at S e a , " t h a t stops the ship o f the c o m m o n w e a l t h f r o m sailing to a r e f o r m a t i o n . W h i l e these comparisons cannot be called c o m p l i m e n t a r y , they are relatively mild and r e m a r k a b l y f e w . C h a r l e s is, h o w e v e r , the o b j e c t o f m a n y d e r o g a t o r y comparisons, Biblical o r historical in c h a r a c t e r ; he is, f o r example, a g r e a t e r t y r a n t than any Saul o r A h a b . Y e t this abuse, while extensive and stinging, still l e a v e s him w i t h some dignity, as the animal images do not. C h a r l e s is a d a n g e r o u s and a b a d man but not a disgusting or ridiculous one. It seems clear that M i l t o n feels a r e a l l y vicious a t t a c k on the K i n g to be p o o r s t r a t e g y . N o such inhibitions influence him in his three Defences.
In
A w o o d c o c k w a s p r o v e r b i a l l y a s t u p i d b i r d , and s y m b o l i z e d a f o o l . A l a r g e n u m b e r of i m a g e s of w o l v e s a n d sheep a r e c l a s s i f i e d u n d e r the h e a d of r e l i g i o n w h e n e v e r the p h r a s i n g or context i n d i c a t e s t h a t they w e r e d e r i v e d f r o m the B i b l e . 10 11
148
Animals
each of them his opponent is overwhelmed with abuse. A stream of insulting images drawn from nearly every part of the animal kingdom is hurled at the head of Salmasius. H e is a raving distracted cuckoo, a dunghill cock, 12 a magpie; he is a loathsome beast, a barking mongrel, a braying ass, a willing horse spurred on to write by his wife, a sheep ; he is a worm, a drone, a gadfly, and a beetle. H e is, however, chiefly a wolf. In five images, all but one of them long and complicated, Milton puns on the word " l u p a " meaning both she-wolf and immoral woman, and thereby attacks the character of Salmasius's wife and ridicules his relations with her. The shortest of them will indicate their quality : 1 8 you y o u r s e l f , S i r e du L o u p , h a v e leave to send f o r t h w h a t e v e r philosophy you please f r o m y o u r w o l f - b i t c h ' s den. ( F i r s t Def., V I I , 2 8 7 )
Morus fares even worse. Like Salmasius, he is a dog (yelping, fawning, and slavering), an ass, and a horse (lasciviously neighing) ; he is a daw, 1 4 a parrot, a cackling goose; he is a rank goat, a raging and foaming wild beast, sometimes lying hidden, sometimes breaking cover, a filthy boar dragged into the open struggling and twisting back his neck, a hyena ; he is a croaking frog, a bookworm of a grammarian, a winged and venemous insect, a tunny entangled in a woman's net, and a cockchafer. 1 5 Yet, after all, Morus is relatively unimportant; Milton will dispose of him while awaiting the second volume of Salmasius : Y o u y o u r s e l f , then, like the little fish w h i c h goes b e f o r e the w h a l e . . . are merely the h a r b i n g e r of the w h a l e S a l m a s i u s , w h o is threatening an 12 This image is nineteen lines long, with references to Aesop's Fablej and Plautus's A ulularía. 13 Others involve references to St. Lupus, Bishop of Troyes, Martial's Epigrams, Vergil's Ecloguet, and the Roman Lupercalia. 14 One daw image is twenty-two lines long, with references to Aesop's Fablet and Aristophanes's Birds. 19 " 'He had been of a happy disposition had he refrained from irritating the wasps' : that is, his rivals ¡ not as the eagle indeed, but as that wasp-born cockchafer of old irritated the flies" (Def. of Him., I X , 67). T h e allusion has not been identified.
Animals
149
invasion of our shores! We sharpen our harpoons and instruments of iron, that we may secure whatever oil or pickle may be obtained from that invasion. (Sec. Def., V I I I , 55) T h e r e a r e many other images of this type throughout M i l ton's prose, but they are similar to those directed against his chief a d v e r s a r i e s and t h r o w no f u r t h e r light on his ability to call names. In general, it m a y be said that his choice of animals does not differ in any appreciable degree f r o m that of contemporary controversialists. A l l of them m a k e obvious use of creatures w h o h a v e long been symbols of v a r i o u s undesirable qualities. M i l t o n ' s figures, however, tend to be more complicated, and to involve more direct literary allusions. A l t h o u g h the late poems, not being polemical, have a smaller percentage of d e r o g a t o r y images than the prose, there are many of a f a m i l i a r fierceness. A d a m , a f t e r the f a l l , is bitter in his rejection of E v e ' s first efforts at reconciliation : Out of my sight, thou Serpent, that name best Befits thee with him leagu'd, thy self as false And hateful. (P.L., II, 335) Satan suggests that C h r i s t might expel the monster Sejanus f r o m his throne " n o w m a d e a s t y . " Samson and the Chorus between them call D a l i l a h a hyena, a viper, a poisonous bosom snake, and a serpent a r m e d with a sting. T h i s is the same invective that we found in the prose. A k i n to it is Samson's self-condemnation: he has been shorn of his precious fleece like a tame wether, is now a burdenous drone, and may be d r a g g e d through the Philistines' streets like a wild beast; he has no relief From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, But rush upon me thronging.1* (S.A., I, 337) Of a somewhat different tone, h o w e v e r , are many of the images applied to Satan and, to a lesser degree, his f o l l o w e r s , 18
See also
Samson Agonista,
623-624.
Animals in which Milton arouses not only indignation but also awe. This group consists of highly elaborated similes that suggest the moral hideousness of Satan but at the same time something of his grandeur, and occur appropriately in the early books of Paradise Lost.17 T h e first is the most impressive of them all : [Satan] extended long and large L a y floating many a rood, in bulk as huge A s [the giants who warred on the gods or] that Sea-beast Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim th' Ocean stream : Him haply slumbring on the Norway foam T h e Pilot of some small night-founder'd Skiff, Deeming some Island, oft, as Sea-men tell, 18 W i t h fixed Anchor in his skaly rind Moors by his side under the Lee, while Night Invests the Sea, and wished Morn delayes: So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend lay. ( P . L . , I I , 1 5 )
Like Leviathan the greatest individual thing of his kind, Satan is almost overwhelming in his mere size, and is also a thing of evil in his untrustworthiness; he has deceived the angels and will deceive man, just as the sea beast of the travelers' tales deceived the sailors, and as the Biblical Leviathan, according to the tradition of the Church Fathers and the bestiaries, is intentionally treacherous. 10 In book two, we see Satan struggling across chaos : A s when a Gryfon through the Wilderness With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale, Pursues the A rimas pian, who by stelth 17
J . W h a l e r , " T h e Miltonic Simile," P.M.L.A., X L V I (December, 1 9 3 1 ) , 1034 ff., demonstrates that the elaboration of the similes consists of their stating or implying many points of resemblance between the thing compared and the simile itself, including points that are apparent only if the reader anticipates the subsequent action of the poem. T h i s elaboration is one of M i l ton's refinements on the practice of his epic predecessors. 18 T h e source is probably Olaus M a g n u s , Hiitoria de gentibus septentrionibus, Rome, 1555, translated into English in 1658. T h e story is, h o w e v e r , widespread. 19 For an analysis of this image, see Whaler, op. cit., p. 1050.
Animals
151
H a d from his wakeful custody purloind T h e guarded G o l d : So eagerly the fiend O r e bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, W i t h head, hands, wings or feet pursues his way, A n d swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes. ( P . L . , II, 71 )
Satan, like a griffin, is a huge, 2 0 fierce, winged, unnatural monster, capable of s w i f t and relentless pursuit of an evildoer, as man, like the Arimaspian, will soon discover. 2 1 H e is at once t e r r i f y i n g and magnificent. In the next three images, Satan, while still fierce or disgusting, has become somewhat less awe-inspiring; he is now no huger or more monstrous than a vulture, a w o l f , or a tiger. H a v i n g crossed chaos, Satan lights on the convex shell of the primum mobile : H e r e walk'd the Fiend at large in spacious field. A s when a V u l t u r on Imaus bred, W h o s e snowie ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a Region scarce of prey T o gorge the flesh of Lambs or yeanling Kids O n Hills where Flocks are fed, flies toward the Springs O f Ganges, or Hydaspes, Indian streams ; B u t in his way lights on the barren Plaines O f Sericana, where Chineses drive W i t h Sails and W i n d thir canie W a g g o n s light : So on this windie Sea of Land, the Fiend W a l k ' d up and down alone bent on his prey. ( P . L . , II, 9 2 - 9 3 )
Satan, intent on making man his prey, is in every particular like a vulture flying f r o m northern regions to the " m o s t rich and f o r t u n a t e " land of India, and on the w a y alighting on a windswept plain. 2 2 W h e n he has found his way to the 2 0 M a n d e v i l l e states t h a t a griffin is eight times as l a r g e a9 a lion ( " G r i f f i n , " Encyclopaedia Britannica). 21 Browne ( P i e u d o d o x i a Epidemica, B k . I l l , ch. 1 1 ) c o n s i d e r s a griffin, w h o m he c a l l s " m i x e d a n d d u b i o u s , " a noble c r e a t u r e , t h e e m b l e m of v a r i o u s v i r t u e s such as attention, c o u r a g e , a n d tenacity, but f r o m the point of v i e w of the A r i m a s p i a n these v i r t u e s lose their c h a r m . 2 2 W h i t i n g (op. cit., pp. 1 1 7 - 1 1 8 ) s h o w s the s t r o n g p r o b a b i l i t y of this figure's h a v i n g come f r o m M i l t o n ' s study of a m a p in O r t e l i u s ' s Theatrum Orbis Terrarum, in w h i c h t h e r e is a picture of the C h i n e s e in s a i l - e q u i p p e d w a g g o n s . D e a t h a l s o is a v u l t u r e :
152
Animals
earth and to the Garden of Eden, he leaps with ease over its boundary A s when a prowling Wolfe, Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey, Watching where Shepherds pen thir Flocks at eeve In hurdl'd Cotes amid the field secure, Leaps o're the fence with ease into the Fould.
(P.L., II, 113)
This image has more religious association than literary; indeed, it is included here only to complete the list to animals to which Satan is compared. In it he remains sufficiently fierce to retain our respect, although the passage immediately following, in which he is compared to a burglar climbing in the window, greatly lowers his dignity. Once inside the garden, he keeps watch upon A d a m and E v e : about them round A Lion now he stalkes with fierie glare, Then as a Tyger, who by chance hath spi'd In some Purlieu two gentle Fawnes at play, Strait couches close, then rising changes oft His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground Whence rushing he might surest seize them both Grip't in each paw. ( P . L . , II, 1 2 0 - 1 2 1 )
This b e a s t 2 3 is not so bold as we should naturally expect him to be; rather he seems animated with the same "sly circumspection" that Satan displays a little later. When, in spite A s when a flock Of ravenous Fowl, though many a League remote, Against the day of Battel, to a Field, Where Armies lie encampt, come flying, lur'd With sent of living Carcasses design'd For death, the following day, in bloodie fight. So seated the grim Feature. (P.L., II, 3 1 4 ) Lucan, Phartalia, V I I , 8 3 1 - 8 3 7 ; Fletcher, The Beggar's Bush, and Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, V, i, 85-87 have been suggested as sources. 23 Satan has literally assumed the shape of a tiger, but his actions are here figuratively described. He follows Adam and E v e as a tiger would stalk his prey. The other animal shapes of Satan are actual disguises, not figures of speech.
Animals
153
of his caution, Satan is discovered, arrested, and rebuked by the angelic guard, T h e Fiend repli'd not, overcome with rage ; B u t like a proud Steed reind, went hautie on, Chaumping his iron curb. ( P . L . , I I , 1 3 7 )
Here Satan, though still haughty, is no longer terrifying; curbed by the power of virtue, he is, indeed, entirely harmless, as he soon afterward discovers on seeing the scales of God hung in the heavens. This long series of images devoted to Satan is of considerable interest in that it reveals a steady loss of dignity and power on his part, a degeneration which Milton also makes apparent in other ways than by the use of imagery. T h e fact that the Satan of Paradise Regained is an independent product of Milton's imagination, conceived without any of the grandeur of the earlier figure though with a subtle power of his own, is emphasized by the one animal image devoted to him in the later poem. 24 Although his efforts to tempt Christ had failed, he yet persisted. as a swarm of flies in vintage time, About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr'd, Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound. (P.R., I I , 4 5 9 )
Flies inspire no awe whatever, merely annoyance and disgust. 25 24
There is possibly one other: So spake the Son of God, and Satan stood A while as mute confounded what to say . . . At length collecting all his Serpent wiles, With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts. (P.R., II, 442) If this means "collecting all his wiles as subtle as those of a serpent," the passage is figurative; if it means "collecting those wiles that he had displayed on the occasion when he tempted Eve in the form of a serpent," it is not. In either case, Satan lacks grandeur. 25 In the case of Satan's followers, they are first described as rising from the burning lake in hell like a pitchy cloud Of Locusts, warping on the Eastern Wind, That ore the Realm of impious Pharaoh hung
Animals
154
N e x t to his derogatory images, the most conspicuous group is that relating to birds, 26 a type of figure also numerous in Milton's contemporaries -7 and in Shakespeare. 2 8 M o r e than one half of this group is based on snaring, 2 9 with which Milton was evidently familiar. H e speaks of entering the very lime twigs of Comus's spells, of Satan's well-couched fraud, well-woven snares, and so on. H i s most unusual image of this kind illustrates what he regards as the corruption of the clergy: n o w c o m m o n l y h e w h o d e s i r e s to be a m i n i s t e r , looks n o t a t t h e w o r k b u t a t t h e w a g e s ; a n d b y t h a t l u r e o r l o u b e l 3 0 m a y be t o a l d f r o m p a r i s h to p a r i s h .
(Hirelings,
VI,
93)
T h i s familiarity, however, is no greater than that of his contemporaries. Furthermore, in sympathy f o r the snared bird, so evident in Shakespeare, 3 1 Milton is almost wholly lacking. M o s t of these images are neutral in their emotional tone and a few are definitely unsympathetic: 3 2 T h e rest of his p r e a c h m e n t is m e e r g r o u n d l e s s c h a t , s a v e h e e r a n d t h e r e a f e w g r a n e s of c o r n s c a t t e r d to i n t i c e t h e s i l l y f o w l i n t o his net ;
(Brief Notes, VI, 157)
A n d w o u l d ' s t t h o u seek a g a i n t o t r a p m e h e r e W i t h l i c k e r i s h b a i t s fit to e n s n a r e a b r u t e ?
(Comus,
I,
i n )
T h i s is b u t t o fling a n d s t r u g l e u n d e r the i n e v i t a b l e net of G o d , n o w begins to inviron you r o u n d ;
(Anim., I l l ,
that
170)
L i k e Night, and darken'd all the L a n d of Kile. (P.L., II, 20) T h e r e is here a certain magnificence which is entirely lost when Milton speaks of these same angels being driven f r o m heaven as a H e a r d Of Goats or timerous flock together throngd. (P.L., II, 208) 26 T h i s is cro9s-classifícation. M a n y bird images are derogatory. 27 Forty-seven percent of the animal imagery in Milton, 42 percent in the other writers examined. But see below, note 33. 28 Spurgeon, op. cit., p. 48. 29 T w e n t y - s i x percent of the total animal imagery. 30 A loubel or low-bell is a bell used in f o w l i n g at night. T h e w o r d does not occur in either Shakespeare or Spenser. 31 Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 1 0 5 - 1 0 6 . 32 Some of the following examples apply as well or better to animals, but all illustrate the point of sympathy or lack of it.
Animals
155
Only t w o show sensitivity: when the attendant Spirit in Comus speaks of the L a d y , A n d O poor hapless Nightingale thought I, H o w sweet thou sing'st, how near the deadly snare ! (Comus,
I, 106)
and when M i l t o n speaks of the husband and w i f e of an unhappy marriage as t w o ensnared souls. T h i s group of images, therefore, does not make a particularly clear-cut impression, especially since the g r e a t majority turn upon a single word, such as snare or bait, where M i l t o n may quite well be echoing the Bible without being conscious of the underlying figure.33 A similar lack of precision exists in the next largest group, based on wings or plumage, and soaring or flight, since it is by no means certain in every case that M i l t o n is employing a bird image. In one figure he is of course using Christian symbolism, when he speaks of the spirit of G o d that with mighty wings outspread Dove-like satst brooding on the vast Abyss A n d mad'st it pregnant; ( P . L . , II, 9) Darkness profound Cover'd th' Abyss : but on the watrie calme His brooding wings the Spirit of G o d outspred, A n d vital vertue infus'd. ( P . L . , I I , 2 1 9 - 2 2 0 )
L e s s obvious, however, are the numerous figures he applies to his song, to himself, or to his muse : [ M a y G o d inspire] my adventrous Song, T h a t with no middle flight intends to soar A b o v e th' Aonian M o u n t ; (PJL., II, 8 - 9 ) above th' Olympian H i l l I soare, Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 3 * (P.L.,
II, 211 )
T h e r e a r e o v e r one h u n d r e d p a s s a g e s in the B i b l e that i n v o l v e a figurative use of ( e n ) s n a r e , ( e n ) t r a p , and net, t h o u g h m a n y of these r e f e r to f o u r l e g g e d a n i m a l s r a t h e r than birds. In s i m i l a r cases in M i l t o n the same doubt arises. In a letter to D i o d a t i in 1637 his muse is not so a m b i t i o u s : " [ I a m ] g r o w 33
I5Ó
Animals
Here he may possibly still be thinking of the dove as a symbol of God's inspiration, 35 or more probably, in the second figure, of Plato. Pegasus may well have been associated in his mind with the Phaedrtts, in which Plato symbolizes the soul as a charioteer driving a pair of winged steeds, one noble the other ignoble. The perfect soul soars with them up to the region of the absolute verities, the abode of the gods; the imperfect soul loses its feathers, or has its wings broken by unskillful driving, and "drooping in its flight, at last settles on the solid ground." This same passage of Plato seems the most likely source of two other figures : [ W i t h the growth of religious ceremony] the Soule . . . bated her wing apace downeward . . . her pineons now broken, and flagging, shifted off from her selfe, the labour of high soaring any more, forgot her heavenly flight; (Ref., I I I , 2 ) Wisdoms self O f t seeks to sweet retired Solitude, W h e r e with her best nurse Contemplation She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings T h a t in the various bustle of resort
Were all to ruffl'd, and somtimes impair'd. ( C o m u s , I, 178) Likewise, we cannot be sure of how we are to visualize his muse. In two of his Latin poems he furnishes her with wings, but in all other instances speaks of her in human terms : when he writes Latin she moves with halting step, is poorly nourished, and so on. Here, presumably, he has the classic Muses in mind, ladies who are, however, conspicuous f o r their lack of wings. In the Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity his muse is heavenly, and is urged to run and lay ing my wings and meditating flight; but as yet our Pegasus raises himself on very tender pinions" (Familiar Letters, X I I , 27). See also bis dismounting from his flying steed, P.L., Bk. 7, II. 12-19. 85 Cf. Bishop Hall : "That soul that can soar aloft upon the strength of his own wings, or hath its flagging Pinions completely ymped with feathers from the Dove, the Spirit of God, shall little need such advantages as are these things which we speak of [set forms of prayer] . . . onely take heed you do not, Icarus-like, over-dare" {A Modest Confutation, p. 32).
Animals
157
the p o e m at the C h r i s t child's f e e t . D o u b t l e s s M i l t o n is in this case thinking o f C h r i s t i a n r a t h e r than classic inspiration, as he certainly is in Paradise
Lost,
w h e r e he specifically de-
nies the classic l i n e a g e o f his celestial patroness U r a n i a . A h e a v e n l y being, n o t an e m p t y d r e a m like her G r e e k namesake, she is the d a u g h t e r o f G o d and the sister o f E t e r n a l Wisdom. S i m i l a r uncertainty obtains in the case of figures turning only on the w o r d
flight
o r s o a r , particularly when things
o t h e r than p e r s o n s a r e i n v o l v e d : the mind, t h o u g h t , human capacity, even a b o o k : the whole Booke soares to a Prophetick pitch in . . . Allegories. (AnimIll, 154) A g a i n , w h e n only the w o r d p l u m a g e or w i n g is mentioned, the case is n o t a l w a y s clear : a w o m a n m a r r i e d to a heretical husband and h a v i n g " r e c o u r s to the w i n g o f charity, and p r o t e c t i o n o f the C h u r c h "
(Tetra.,
I V , 7 9 ) , is p r o b a b l y
based on the figure o f a m o t h e r h e n ; the wings o f the wind doubtless d e r i v e f r o m the Bible w h e r e the figure occurs several times, but the w i n g s o f sleep, night, silence, darkness, verse, j o y , v e n g e a n c e , and p r a y e r must, to say the least, remain a m b i g u o u s . O n the w h o l e , in spite o f certain n o t a b l e exceptions, b o t h the i m a g e s of snaring and o f flight lack vividness, since even w h e n w e a r e sure that they concern a bird, they a r e not p a r t i c u l a r i z e d . W e h a v e , f o r example, m e r e l y the flight of any b i r d , n o t the characteristic flight of an individual species. 3 9 O f course, M i l t o n does h a v e some specific k n o w l e d g e . H e must certainly h a v e h e a r d the nightingale " m o s t musical m o s t m e l a n c h o l y " in the s p r i n g evening, the reiterated notes of the cuckoo, the d i s c o r d a n t screech o f the o w l , the gabble o f domestic geese, and the cry o f w i l d geese on the wing. E q u a l l y certainly he h a s o b s e r v e d the s w i f t u p s o a r i n g of the l a r k in 3 8 Shakespeare speaks of the l a p w i n g running close by the ground, the divedapper peering through a w a v e , etc. Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 48-49.
Animals
158
the dawn, which he makes into a magnificent symbol of eager joyfulness: Thus wore out night, and now the Herald Lark Left his ground-nest, high towring to descry T h e morns approach, and greet her with his Song : As lightlv from his grassy Couch up rose O u r Saviour, ( P . R . , II, 434) and he has heard its sudden burst of song "startle the dull night." H e has listened to the "lively din" of a cock in the early morning; he has seen it scratching on a dunghill, and perhaps ravens pecking at an animal's eyes. H e knows, presumably f r o m experience, that finches feed on insects and seeds, and that magpies and parrots can be taught to speak. 3 7 H e refers to details of nesting, hatching, fledging, and molting. W e may note, f o r instance, one figure of an unfertilized e g g that is very unusual and that he twice puts to scornful use : [The King thinks his assent a necessary addition to a vote of Parliament] So that the Parlament, it seems, is but a Female, and without his procreative reason, the Laws which they can produce are but windeggs; ( E i k o n V , 185) [Milton's adversary has defined the church canons as the laws of England] From such a wind-egg of definition as this, they who expect any of his other arguments to bee well hatcht, let them enjoy the vertu of thir worthy Champion; (Colasi., IV, 237) and another equally unusual simile of a sick bird : [Skillful commanders would not allow their men] to shed away from about them like sick feathers. (Educ., IV, 289) L e s s individual but still vivid is the reference t o his contemporaries at Cambridge, of w h o m there are hardly one or two that do not fly off unfeathered to Theology. (Familiar Letters, Xll, 13) A l l this knowledge he has, but nevertheless a g o o d deal 17
• If he considered the sea-gull greedy (see above in the attack on H a l l ) , he may h a v e observed this fact f o r himself.
Animals
159
of his bird imagery depends on folklore or on books. F r o m these sources he has learned that the cuckoo is ill-omened, the woodcock stupid, the peacock and the daw vain, the ostrich neglectful of its eggs, and the vulture greedy. 3 8 H e makes extensive use of legends about the eagle and the phoenix. Twice he alludes to the eagle's fierceness or might : Samson fell upon the Philistines as an eagle falls upon barny a r d f o w l ; on the chariot of the Son sat victory, eagle-winged. Once he alludes to its pride : [ M i l t o n does not wish to argue a petty detail] A soar-Eagle, would not stoope at a flye,s" ( A n i m I l l , n o )
having in mind in these figures the fact that the eagle is the symbol, as in heraldry, 4 0 of power and majesty. Again, one of his most famous passages is based upon its proverbially piercing sight, and upon its power of self-renewal : Methinks I see her [ E n g l a n d , rousing herself like a strong man a n d ] as an E a g l e n e w i n g 4 1 her mighty youth, and kindling her undazl'd eyes at the full midday beam; purging and unsealing her long abused sight at the fountain it self of heav'nly radiance; while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amaz'd at what she means, and in their envious gabble would prognosticat a year of sects and schisms. 42 {Areo., I V , 3 4 4 )
H e alludes to the phoenix as a self-begotten, self-renewed, and seldom seen bird, and in one of his finest images to its uniqueness: Raphael flies toward the earth 38 These bookish figures tend to be longer and more elaborate than those drawn from experience. See the similes of the ostrich, above, in the attack on bishops; the daw, note 14, above; and the vulture, note 32, above. He also makes use of the Greek proverb "From a bad crow a bad egg." 39 C f . Phineas Fletcher, The Apollyonists: T h e Eagle scornes at lesser game to flie ; Onely this warre's [vs. Spain] a match worthy . . . Thee [Charles], (V, 39·) 40 For Milton's knowledge of heraldry see Chapter i, note 6. 41 T h e emendation of "muing" proposed by R. S. Loom i s (M.L.N., X X X I I , 437) and G. V. Yule (R.ES., X I X , 6 1 - Í 7 ) and adopted by Hughes (Milton Prose Selections, p. 259). 42 Cf. Giles Fletcher, Christi Vittorie: [Justice] as the Eagle . . . so, and more brightly shin'd Her lamping sight. (I, 10)
IÓO
Animals till within soare O f T o w r i n g Eagles, to all the Fowles he seems A Phoenix, gaz'd by all, as that sole Bird W h e n to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
Bright Temple, to Egyptian
Theb's he flies. ( P . L . , II, 1 5 3 )
R a p h a e l , like the bird, is "unique, winged, gorgeous, translunary, of immortal essence," and on his w a y to a friendly visit to A d a m , suggests the p r o v e r b i a l saying " a f a i t h f u l friend is like a phoenix." 4 8 A s i d e f r o m birds, there remain various other categories of animal images that may be considered more briefly. T r a v e l being what it was in his day, M i l t o n must of necessity have known how to ride a horse. H e has many references, though all of them are commonplace, to the use of the bit, bridle, stirrups, and reins. W i t h more originality he speaks of a horse foundering himself and, as w e h a v e seen, 44 of a hackney, a pack-horse laying down his load, a willing horse spurred on, and a proud steed champing his bit. H e r e f e r s to pedigreed stock : if the race of Kings were eminently the best of men, as the breed at Tutburie is of Horses, [they could justly command us]
(Eikon., V, 202) A l l this demonstrates his knowledge, but does not demonstrate any of the sympathy f o r horses characteristic of Shakespeare, 4 5 or any enthusiasm f o r horsemanship. Likewise, he shows no fondness f o r dogs. B a c k e d by Scriptural authority, he considers them unpleasant animals: N o marvell if the people turne beasts, when their Teachers themselves
as Isaiah calls them, Are dumbe and greedy dogs. (Apol., III, 345)
T h e i r greed is apparent in the f o l l o w i n g passages : G o d is watching Sin and D e a t h approach the w o r l d 43 Whaler, " A n i m a l Simile in Paradise Lost," P.M.L.A., X L V I I (June, 1 9 3 2 ) , 544-545. T h e bird is c a r r y i n g the b o n o and m a r r o w of its f o r m e r body, a detail that cannot be made to apply to Raphael. 44 See above. 45 Spurgeon, op. cit., pp. 108-109.
ιόι
Animals I call'd and d r e w them thither M y H e l l - h o u n d s , to lick up the d r a f f and filth W h i c h mans polluting S i n w i t h taint hath shed O n w h a t w a s pure, till c r a m m ' d and gorg'd, nigh burst W i t h suckt and glutted o f f a l , at one sling ( P . L . , I I , 3 2 7 )
they will be hurled by the Son down to hell: Vlaccus attacked Milton and then pirated his pamphlet: W h a t conduct could be more like that of the d o g ? — A t whose head, βλ he w a s b a r k i n g at me, h a v i n g flung w i t h violence that bone, you also begin to yelp and g r o w l ; till, finding the bone to have meat about it, you presently turn to f a w n i n g , then f a l l to g n a w i n g and slavering up its nice pickings. ( D e f . of Him., I X , 7 5 )
In addition, they make nuisances of themselves by barking at a man's shins, 46 adding to the "barbarous noise" of the other animals, the owls, cuckoos, asses, and apes. Sheep are contemptible : 4 7 M o n a r c h s . . . aim is to make the people, wealthie indeed perhaps and well fleec't, f o r thir o w n shearing and the supplie of regal prodigalitie ; but otherwise softest, basest, vitiousest, servilest, easiest to be kept und e r ; and not only in fleece, but in minde also sheepishest; (Ready
& Easy
Way,
VI,
145-146)
T h e s e are the ordinary creatures of the countryside that came within the range of his observation. Y e t this range was limited, probably because of his weak eyesight. 48 Certainly he had never looked closely at a snail ; otherwise he would not have said that when poor speakers have exhausted their supply of words they c r a w l s l o w l y off like certain little animals w i t h their horns d r a w n in, (Prolusion
I, XII,
123)
since, of course, a snail is curled up in its shell when its horns are not extended. It is interesting to compare Milton in this particular with Shakespeare, who has three similes of great delicacy and sympathy turning on the tender horns of a 46 41 48
Sec above, the controversial ¡mages from Colaslerion: "But if a man," etc. Cf. Samson's reaction. He has been shorn like a tame wether. See above. Cf. the lack of detail in his images of flowers, Chapter 4.
Animals
IÓ2
snail w i t h d r a w n into or peeping f o r t h f r o m its shell. 4 9 F u r t h e r m o r e , in many instances he could not h a v e observed the animals at all. M a n y illustrations of this f a c t have already been given in this chapter 50 and more may here be added : in On the Fifth of November Satan pursues unwary sinners like a C a s p i a n tigress; in Paradise Regained he tells C h r i s t that the inhabitants o f the wilderness are inured to thirst more than the camel. Samson is a lion in strength and fierceness, and, presumably f o r the same qualities, an evening d r a g o n attacking roosting f o w l s ; he has learned the wisdom of the adder by refusing to listen to D a l i l a h ' s attempt to charm h i m ; 9 1 H a r a p h a would not believe that Samson's strength had returned even though his hair w e r e like the bristles of a chaffed wild b o a r or ruffled porcupine. T h i s last beast, indeed, M i l t o n might h a v e seen, but it so closely resembles Shakespeare's " f r e t f u l porpentine" as to make Hamlet a much more likely source f o r the image than experience. T h i s same pattern repeats itself in the case of images of insects. M a n y are based on observation o r accepted b e l i e f : flies s w a r m i n g about one's head are objectionable,® 2 ephemeral : [Common men] G r o w up and perish, as the summer flie,
{S.A., I, 361) and foolish : [Mosaic l a w ] holds out fais and dazling fires to stumble men: or like those miserable flies to run into with delight, and be burnt.
(Doct. Div., I l l , 434) Bees, except idle drones, attack one with their stings;
53
the
Spurgeon, of. cit., p. 107. Sea beasts, a dragon, serpents, a python, an ostrich, remora, hyena, Leviathan, griffin, vulture, w o l f , tiger, etc. 6 1 Psalms 5 8 : 4 - $ : T h e wicked " a r e like the deaf adder that stoppeth her e a r ; which w i l l not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisely." Milton refers to the same proverb in Tetrachordon. 5 2 See above, in the images f r o m Colasterion: "But if a m a n , " etc. s s See above, in the images f r o m Colasterion: " B u t if a man," etc., and Samton Agonistes. 49
50
Animals
163
t a i n t w o r m was r e g a r d e d as f a t a l to cattle. O t h e r images a r e based on his r e a d i n g . F o r example, a t t h e creation, b u t t e r flies a r e brilliantly colored : A t once came forth whatever creeps the ground, Insect or W ö r m e ; those w a v ' d thir limber fans F o r wings, and smallest Lineaments exact In all the Liveries dect of Summers pride W i t h spots of G o l d and Purple, azure and green. ( P . L . , I I , 228)
but n o t with the various shades of orange, yellow, and b r o w n most commonly f o u n d in English butterflies. Like the newly f o r m e d animals—lion, ounce, libbard, tiger, stag, b e h e m o t h , river horse, and c r o c o d i l e — t h e y a r e the creatures of the tropics. 5 4 M i l t o n ' s c a r e f u l description of their tiny a n d delicately m a d e limbs is curiously unconvincing. W e have only to c o m p a r e it with Keats's description of the moonlit casement window, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, A s are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings, (Eve of St. Agnes, st. 24)
to realize t h a t it lacks the s t a m p of a u t h e n t i c i t y . " In t h r e e cases, m o r e o v e r , two similes of flies and one of bees, he uses figures t h a t have a l i t e r a r y ancestry g o i n g back to H o m e r . H i s first use of t h e fly simile occurs in his early, imitative On the Fifth of November, w h e r e he seems t o have h a d in mind a passage f r o m the Iliad, a n a t u r a l source f o r such a poem. 6 6 In H o m e r we find: Even as the many tribes of thick flies that hover about a herdsman's steading in the spring season, when milk drencheth the pails, even in like 54 Between "behemoth" and " r i v e r h o r s e " M i l t o n inserts "flocks b l e a t i n g a n d fleeced," a domestic t o u c h . 5 5 T h e r e is one bookish i m a g e of f i s h e s : A m a n d o i n g c e r t a i n t h i n g s is " l e s s w i s e then t h a t noted F i s h " (Tetra., I V , 1 4 t ) . T h i s is the p r o v e r b i a l " I t is a silly fish t h a t is c a u g h t t w i c e w i t h the s a m e b a i t " or " T h a t fish w i l l soon be c a u g h t that nibbles at e v e r y b a i t . " 5 8 F l y similes occur in S p e n s e r (Faerie Queme, V , ii, 33 ; V, xi, 58 ; V I , xi, 48) and e l s e w h e r e , but they a r e not so close to M i l t o n in e x p r e s s i o n or so likely a s sources.
Animals
IÓ4
number stood the flowing-haired Achaians upon the plain in face of the Trojans, eager to rend them asunder ; (Iliad, I I , 4 6 9 - 4 7 1 )
and in M i l t o n : A rabble rout, gathered here [in the dwelling of R u m o r ] , rouses varied whisperings, like the noises made by the swarms of flies when they buzz about the milking pails, or in the sheep-cotes of rushes interwoven, when the Dog-Star is seeking the heights of heaven, the peak of the skies in the summer days. (On Fifth Nov., I, 2 5 1 )
H e r e M i l t o n has elaborated and improved upon his original by making the figure turn not merely on one but on two points of comparison, the number and the sound of flies, and by suggesting a third point, the triviality and worthlessness of the people and their action. In his second and late use of the same simile, already discussed in another connection, 67 we find the same elaboration and suggestiveness even more f u l l y developed : though his efforts to tempt Christ had f a i l e d , Satan renewed his attack as a swarm of flies in vintage time, About the wine-press where sweet moust is powr'd Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound. (P.R.,
II, 459)
Satan, like the flies, is tedious, persistent, yet entirely ineffective. H i s arguments are a monotonous drone. Christ's words, on the other hand, are sweet and rich as wine. Furthermore, the time of harvest is at h a n d ; Christ's ministry is about to begin, in which, according to J o h n , his first act is to change the water into wine at the m a r r i a g e in C a n a . T h i s same characteristic, the elaboration of a figure derived f r o m a specific literary source, is seen even more clearly in his adaptation of the bee simile, one of the most widely used epic similes in existence : 5 8 the great hall of Pandaemonium Thick swarm'd, both on the ground and in the air, Brusht with the hiss of rustling wings. A s Bees 67
See above, note 24. See the exhaustive analysis of the bee simile in Whaler, "Animal Simile in Paradise Lott," PMLA, X L V I I (June, 1932), 545-551, where Milton's figure is compared to nineteen others. 158
Animals In spring time, when the Sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth thir populous youth about the Hive In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers Flie to and fro, or on the smoothed Plank, The suburb of thir Straw-built Cittadel, New rub'd with Baum, expatiate and confer Thir State affairs. So thick the aerie crowd Swarm'd and were straitn'd ; till the Signal giv'n, Behold a wonder ! they but now who seemd In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons N o w less then smallest Dwarfs, in narrow room Throng numberless. ( P . L . , II, 3 5 - 3 6 )
T h i s certainly gives a detailed and accurate picture of the activities of a bee colony, but M i l t o n ' s m o t i v e in w r i t i n g it springs not so much f r o m a delighted observation of the insects as f r o m a desire to emulate his poetic predecessors. H e has succeeded in his attempt because of the brilliant ingenuity with which he has fitted the image into the b o d y of the p o e m . T h e f a l l e n angels not only are, like bees, a winged multitude, busy about the various a f f a i r s of their highly o r g a n i z e d community, but also, at the moment of comparison, shrink to a size not much l a r g e r than bees, and a r e themselves on the point of c o n f e r r i n g about their state a f f a i r s . M i l t o n achieves a triumph of imagination rather than observation. G e n e r a l l y speaking, then, his animals are b r e d as much in the study as in the fields. H e could not avoid k n o w i n g about horses and the other common creatures, yet it is clear that they played no l a r g e part in his l i f e . W e l o o k in vain f o r any trace of the sympathetic insight with which B u r n s describes a field mouse or an old m a r e , or F r o s t describes a colt or a p a i r of deer. Instead, w e find M i l t o n o f t e n taking his animals on h e a r s a y or m a k i n g use of their t r a ditional qualities, chiefly f o r the purpose of insulting his adv e r s a r y . W e find him speaking of animals native to A f r i c a o r A s i a r a t h e r than E n g l a n d , to say nothing of such mythical creatures as the phoenix or the python slain by A p o l l o . F u r -
IÓÓ
Animals
ther, we find him not content with an ordinary figure; for example, when he speaks of Salmasius's approval of his own books, Milton begins by calling him a cock crowing on a dung· hill, and then continues by alluding to a cock in Aesop and another in Plautus. Here, as he writes, his mind character· istically turns from the barnyard to books, and the passage as a whole leaves us with a feeling, not of how much Milton has seen, but of how much he has read. Lastly, we find him, as in the case of the bee simile, deliberately, from the start, building up a figure in imitation of earlier writers. Quantitatively, then, we find an unusually large number of animal images that have a literary flavor. Qualitatively, the case is even clearer, since the ones which are most stamped with his individuality, some of them among his most famous passages, are elaborated by numerous, often recondite, literary allusions and enriched by literary overtones blended into harmony by the sheer power of his imagination. T o convey to us his own enkindled vision of Satan on the lake of hell, Milton conjures up the huge bulk of the giants battling the gods of Olympus, the Biblical monster Leviathan, and the astounding animal encountered off the Norwegian coast by sixteenth-century mariners. It is with breath-taking creatures such as this, rather than the sober beasts of everyday life, that Milton is most at home.
CHAPTER
6
Books and Learning VEN in the preceding chapters, concerned primarily with M i l t o n ' s sense perceptions and with the f a c t s of social intercourse, there is evidence that he o f t e n supplements l i f e with books. H i s knowledge of music and oratory is theoretical as well as practical; 1 his knowledge of d r a m a is more that of a reader than that of a spectator; 2 he has learned a g o o d deal about law 8 and m e d i c i n e ; 4 he has read the classic treatises on a g r i c u l t u r e ; 5 he has studied many accounts, general and specialized, of w a r f a r e ; β he is f a m i l i a r with geography and the narratives of the explorers ; 7 his animals have ink as well as blood in their veins. 8 I t now remains to investigate other and m o r e important aspects of his learning—scientific, religious, and literary. In general, it may be said that his mind moves as f r e e l y in the w o r l d of books as in the w o r l d of experience. H e is vividly conscious of the act of writing and of the written manuscript or printed book. Of the images of writing, those dealing with the laws of G o d , written on the M o s a i c tablets and charactered or imprinted in our own nature, are derived f r o m various Biblical texts. 9 Others, more specific and less commonplace, visualize sharply the quality of the script o r 2 * See Chapter I . See Chapter I . » See Chapter i . « See Chapter ». 5 β See Chapter 4, note 3 1 . See Chapter 3, note 32. 7 8 See Chapter 4. See Chapter 5. 0 I I Corinthians 3 : 2 - 3 : " Y e are our epistle written in our hearts . . . written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living G o d ; not in tables of stone, but in fleshly tables of the heart." See also J e r e m i a h 3 1 : 3 3 , Romana 2 : 1 5 , H e b r e w s 8: 10.
IÔ8
Books and Learning
the physical process of writing it. Something that is obvious is something that is written in a large, easily read h a n d : [ G o d has judged the K i n g ] and hath writt'n his impartial Sentence in Characters legible to all Christ'ndom; (Eikon., V , 90) New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ Large. (On the New Forcers of Conscience,
I, 71 )
Conversely, a scribble is something hasty, tentative, or meaningless : in an attempt to explain the stars' motions, foolish men will gird the Sphear W i t h Centric and Eccentric scribl'd o're. ( P . L . , II, 238)
H e r e we can see the astronomer bent over his littered table and involved in the intricacies of his vain speculations. W r i t i n g should be exact to the smallest particular, to the last j o t and tittle. 1 0 W h e n a mistake has been m a d e it must be cancelled, blotted, or e r a s e d : 1 1 [Bishops are wrong in turning the symbolism of baptism into a sacrament] baptising the Christian infant with a solemne sprinkle, and unbaptizing for your own part with a profane and impious forefinger : as if when ye had layd the purifying element upon his forehead, ye meant to cancel and crosse it out again with a caracter not of Gods bidding. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 247-248)
Finally, the finished document must be signed and sealed. Such a document is of course a manuscript, whose authority depends upon whether it is an original or a copy : [ T h e Judaic law is either political or moral] T h a t which is thus morali, besides w h a t w e fetch from those unwritten lawes and ideas which nature hath ingraven in us, the Gospell, as stands with her dignity most, lectures to us from her own authentick hand-writing, and command, not copies out from the borrow'd manuscript of a subservient scrowl, by w a y of imitating; ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 197) In Hebrew, a vowel point or accent. See Matthew 5:18, Luke 1 6 : 1 7 . A l s o rase out, blur ( o v e r ) , blot (out), and the nouns blot, etc. See Colossians 2 : 1 4 : Christ "blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that w a s against us." 10 11
Books and Learning
169
[ K i n g Charles interprets our misfortunes as punishments] as if the very manuscript of G o d s judgements had been deliverd to his custody and exposition. But his reading declares it w e l l to be a fais copy which he uses . . . But to counterfeit the hand of G o d is the boldest of all Forgery. ( E i k o n V , 2 7 2 )
P r i n t e d books, h o w e v e r , are even more numerous than manuscripts. H e n c e , we find metaphors of the book of G o d ' s providence, the book of virtue, the book o f knowledge (the w o r k s o f n a t u r e ) , and the like. M o r u s , scratched by the fingernails of Pontia, is a volume embellished with a frontispiece, inscribed, annotated, and rubricated. Such book images are naturally most fully developed in Areopagitica: T h e W i n d o w s also, and the Balcone s must be thought on, there are shrewd books, with dangerous Frontispices set to sale . . . T h e villages also must have their visitors to enquire what lectures the bagpipe and the rebbeck reads ev'n to the ballatry, and the gammuth of every municipal fidler, for these are the Countrymans Arcadia's and his Monte Mayors. (AreoIV, 317)
In short, w h a t ever thing w e hear or see, sitting, walking, travelling, or conversing may be fitly call'd our book. {Areo., I V , 320)
O n e of the many h a z a r d s to which a book is exposed is to be spotted by mold, an idea used in an exceptionally effective m e t a p h o r describing the w o r k of censors : such iron moulds as these shall have autority to knaw out the choisest periods of exquisitest books. {Areo., I V , 327)
M i l t o n conveys the impression that such a calamity is analogous to a man's becoming crippled. In this connection we may recall that in Areopagitica M i l t o n constantly personifies books, considering them as much living creatures as the men w h o wrote them. 1 2 1 2 See C h a p t e r t, i m a g e s of bodily action. M i l t o n has m a n y other personifications, c h i e f l y of a b s t r a c t i o n s — v i r t u e , sin, truth, l a w , justice, m e r c y , c h a r i t y , r e a s o n , mirth, f a n c y , w i s d o m , i g n o r a n c e , f a c t i o n , p r e l a c y , t r a g e d y , e t c . — b u t a s t h e y a r e m e r e l y r h e t o r i c a l embellishments and t h r o w no light on his c h a r a c t e r , they h a v e been omitted.
ITO
Books and Learning
W i t h this sensitivity to books as an introduction, let us turn to his knowledge of science. A s is to be expected, his images f r o m this area of knowledge, while by no means negligible, are not extensive. Perhaps the most interesting single image is the one which reveals his attitude toward the laws of arithmetic and geometry ; they are the symbols of absolute certainty : F o r the ways of justice are exactest proportion; if for one trespass of a K i n g it require so much remedie or satisfaction, then for twenty more as hainous crimes, it requires of him twentyfold ; and so proportionality, till it com to what is utmost among men . . . For this golden rule of justice and moralitie, as well as of Arithmetic, out of three termes which they admitt, will as certainly and unavoydably bring out the fourth, as any Probleme that ever Euclid, or Apollonius made good by demonstration. ( T e n u r e , V , 5 3 - 5 4 )
T h i s is the sole use he makes of mathematics with the exception of t w o or three obvious images of a cipher. One of these, h o w e v e r , is given a fresh, if somewhat over-ingenious, development : [ I t is a disgrace for Parliament by the King's veto to be] dissolv'd, and cast away like so many Naughts in Arithmetick, unless it be to turne the O of thir insignificance into a lamentation with the people, w h o had so vainly sent them. (Eikon., V , 288)
N o r is the case very different with geometry. H e Has nothing f u r t h e r to say about geometrical laws but is interested, like his contemporaries, in the patterns of geometrical figures, such as lines laid parallel or meeting in a center: [Protestantism could be organized so that] all controversie may end in the finali pronounce or canon of one Arch-primat, or Protestant Pope. A l t h o u g h by this meanes for ought I see, all the diameters of schisme may as well meet and be knit up in the center of one grand falshood. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 3 )
F o r him, as f o r many others, the circle is the symbol o f unity and eternity, although he is not fascinated by it as is
Books and Learning J o h n D o n n e . 1 3 F a r m o r e o r i g i n a l is the use he m a k e s of the p y r a m i d and the cone, figures w h o s e constantly diminishing sides and s h a r p points m a k e t h e m the antitheses of the continuity of the circle and the cube. In one c o m p l e x and h i g h l y e l a b o r a t e d i m a g e the p y r a m i d stands f o r the o r g a n i z a t i o n of the E p i s c o p a l church, and the cone, r a t h e r f a n t a s t i c a l l y , f o r the m i t e r s o f the bishops themselves : [ T o prevent schism the primitive Christians would call a counsel] Of such a councell as this every parochiall Consistory is a right homogeneous and constituting part being in it selfe as it were a little Synod . . . Whereas on the other side Prelaty ascending by a graduali monarchy from Bishop to Arch-Bishop [logically ends in a Pope] . . . I say Prelaty thus ascending in a continuali pyramid upon pretence to perfect the Churches unity . . . what does it but teach us . . . that her pyramid aspires and sharpens to ambition, not to perfection, or unity . . . So that Prelaty if she will seek to close up divisions in the Church, must be forc't to dissolve, and unmake her own pyramidal figure, which she affirmes to be of such uniting power, when as indeed it is the most dividing, and schismaticall forme that Geometricians know of, and must be faine to inglobe, or incube her selfe among the Presbyters; which she hating to do, sends her haughty Prelates from all parts with their forked Miters, the badge of schisme or the stampe of his cloven foot whom they serve I think, who according to their hierarchies acuminating still higher and higher in a cone of Prelaty, in stead of healing up the gashes of the Church, as it happens in such pointed bodies meeting, fall to gore one another with their sharpe spires for upper place, and precedence, till the councell it selfe prove the greatest schisme of all. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 7 - 2 1 8 ) H e shows s o m e k n o w l e d g e of the r u d i m e n t a r y physics o f his d a y , f o r he has i m a g e s b a s e d on the a t t r a c t i o n o f iron by a m a g n e t , a n d on the center of equilibrium both as the point f r o m which it is difficult to m o v e an object and as the point at which an object loses its w e i g h t . A l m o s t equally r u d i m e n t a r y w a s a s t r o n o m y , the science which w a s then g i v i n g rise to f a r m o r e c o n t r o v e r s y than a n y 1S
See M. A . Rugoff, Donne's Imagery
(New York, 1939), pp. 64.fi.
Books and Learning other. T h e r e had, of course, been speculation about the nature of the universe since the days of the ancient Greeks, but in the seventeenth century the question had become urgent. T h e theory of Copernicus, together with its modifications by T y c h o Brahe and others, and the discoveries resulting f r o m the invention of the telescope had shaken the traditional beliefs and had brought science into conflict with Scripturc. M i l t o n ' s attitude is revealed chiefly by the cosmology adopted as the f r a m e w o r k of Paradise Lost and by the astronomical dialogue between R a p h a e l and A d a m in B o o k E i g h t . E x h a u s t i v e studies have demonstrated that this attitude w a s that of a well-grounded layman, w h o was, however, either not fully informed of all the technical aspects of this science, especially its newest developments, o r not interested in them f o r the reason that he felt such speculations to be essentially both pointless and irreverent. 1 4 Y e t , important as this subject must have been to M i l t o n , he has very f e w astronomical images, only one of which needs discussion here. 1 5 In analyzing a passage f r o m Deuteronomy concerning divorce and in rejecting certain explanations of it, he says that he can do better h i m s e l f : I trust anon by the help of an infallible guide to perfet such tables as shall mend the Astronomy of our wide expositors. (Doct.
Div.,
Prutenick I l l , 389)
T h e Tabulae Prutenicae, calculated on Copernican principles by E r a s m u s Reinhold, appeared in 1 5 5 1 and represented celestial movements f a r more accurately than did the previous Alfonsine Tables of 1 2 5 2 . It is evident, therefore, that M i l t o n , at this time at any rate, r e g a r d e d the Copernican system as superseding previous ones. I t is also evident that " M c C o l l e y , " T h e Astronomy of Paradise Lost," S.P., X X X I V (1937), 232-234, 246-247. See also F. R. Johnson, Astronomical Thought in Renaissance England (Baltimore, 1937), p. 285. 1 9 For the images of the regions of the moon and of sun spots, see Chapter 4, images concerning Galileo. T h e r e are also images of the regular orbits of the planets, the immortal quintessence of which they are made, and the boundless empty space beyond the world.
Books and Learning he h a d n o t k e p t up w i t h scientific discoveries, because in 1 6 4 3 , w h e n he w r o t e the Doctrine the Tabulae
Prutenicae,
and Discipline
of
Divorce,
based as they w e r e on the assump-
tion t h a t the p l a n e t s m o v e d in circular orbits, h a d t h e m s e l v e s s u p e r s e d e d by the Rudolphine
Tables
been
of K e p l e r ,
published in 1 6 2 7 . T h e s e tables, computed f r o m elliptical orbits, retained t h e i r a u t h o r i t y f o r a century. B y the time M i l t o n came to w r i t e Paradise
Lost,
h o w e v e r , the r e l a t i v e
accuracy o f the v a r i o u s theories seemed o f less i m p o r t a n c e to him. 1 « Intimately
associated
with
astronomy
was
astrology,
t o w a r d w h i c h M i l t o n ' s attitude is not a l t o g e t h e r c l e a r . I t seems evident f r o m v a r i o u s passages in Paradise
Lost
17
t h a t he b e l i e v e d in the influence of the stars on g r o w i n g things, but it is d o u b t f u l if he believed t h a t this influence extended to m a n k i n d . T h e r e are a f e w i m a g e s t h a t c o u l d reflect a r e a l conviction on M i l t o n ' s p a r t . 1 8 C e r t a i n l y t h e pass a g e describing the t r e m e n d o u s p o w e r of Sin and
Death,
w h o , a f t e r the f a l l of A d a m and E v e , Thir course through thickest Constellations held Spreading thir bane ; the blasted Starrs lookt wan, And Planets, Planet-strook, real Eclips Thensufferd, (P.L., II, 319) loses much of its effectiveness now that w e no l o n g e r believe in the m a l i g n a n c y o f the stars. 1 0 O n the other hand, there 18 It will be o b s e r v e d t h a t t h e i m a g e discussed a b o v e supports the conclusion of P r o f e s s o r McColley t h a t M i l t o n ' s astronomical k n o w l e d g e w a s o u t - o f - d a t e (McColley, loc. cit.). It also does not conflict w i t h his conclusion t h a t in Paradite Lost Milton in his a s t r o n o m i c a l discussion w a s directly i n d e b t e d to p a m p h l e t s by W i l k i n s a n d Rosse. If Rosse's a n t i - C o p e r n i c a n The Nevi Planet No Planet influenced M i l t o n , it d i d not a p p e a r until 1646 (McColley, Milton's Dialogue on Astronomy, PMLA, L I I , 1937, 728-762). " B i t . IV, II. 667-673; Bit.VIII, 11. $11-513; Bk. X, 11. 656-672. 18 T h e l a d i e s ' eyes t h a t r a i n influence ( L ' A l i . , 11. 121-122) is p e r h a p s merely l i t e r a r y convention, a n d t h e b a n e f u l spell of a s t a r t h a t is c a u s i n g T h y r s i s ' s melancholy (Damon's Epitaph, 7 8 - 8 0 ) could be dismissed a9 e x p r e s s i n g t h e opinion not of M i l t o n b u t of t h e s h e p h e r d speaking. 18 See also Hist, of Brit., X , 102; Def. of Him., I X , 187; Areo., IV, 345.
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are references which strongly suggest skepticism or downright disbelief. T h e r e is, first, a non-figurative passage f r o m the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce: a certain inborn love or hate exists in human beings that acts as an attracting or repelling force. A s to the cause of these feelings in, among other things, "the supernall influence of Schemes and angular aspects" 20 of the stars, he dares not think himself enough of a philosopher to conjecture about such a subject, considering the attainments of the men whom he is to encounter in argument; a less abstruse belief makes G o d the cause. H e r e there is surely an undertone of sarcasm. T h e implication is like the explicit conclusion of the astronomical dialogue that we have already discussed: such theorizing is a waste of time. 2 1 In addition to this passage there are three figures whose contexts tend to discredit astrology. In the first, Milton uses astrology's technical language to describe the detested hierarchy of the Church of England : [ T h e primitive system of parish councils made for unity] Whereas on the other side Prelaty ascending by a graduali monarchy from Bishop to Arch-bishop, from thence to Primat, and from thence, for there can be no reason yeilded neither in nature, nor in religion, wherefore, if it have lawfully mounted thus high, it should not be a Lordly ascendent in the horoscope of the Church, from Primate to Patriarch, and so to Pope. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 7 - 2 1 8 )
In the second, he ridicules Bishop H a l l f o r statements about Milton's character and mode of life, statements as grotesquely inaccurate as the astrological fortunetelling of a gypsy: In his tenth Section he will needs erect figures, and tell fortunes. I am no Bishop, he sayes, I was never borne to it; let me tell therefore this wizzard since he calculais so right, that [ I hate bishops] . . . But hee proceeds; and the familiar belike informs him, that a rich Widow, or a Lecture, or both, would content me; whereby I perceave him to be more ignorant in his art of divining then any Gipsy . . . A n d that he may furder learne how his Astrology is wide all the houses of heav'n 2
° III, 418.
21
See above, note 14.
Books and Learning in spelling mariages, I care not if I tell him . . . [that I ] would choose a virgin of mean fortunes honestly bred, before the wealthiest widow. T h e feind therefore that told our Chaldean the contrary was a lying feind. {Apol., I I I , 3 4 1 - 3 4 3 )
F i n a l l y , he has Satan read in the book of the stars the horoscope of C h r i s t : N o w contrary, if I read aught in Heaven, O r Heav'n write aught of Fate, by what the Stars Voluminous, or single characters, In their conjunction met, give me to spell . . . A Kingdom they portend thee, but . . . no date prefixt Directs me in the Starry Rubric set. ( P . R . , II, 4 7 2 - 4 7 3 )
T h i s act could hardly have seemed other than blasphemous to M i l t o n . On the whole, the evidence supports the conclusion that he did not share the w i d e s p r e a d seventeenth-century belief in the influence of the stars on man's destiny, a conclusion h a r d l y surprising in view of his never-ending insistence on f r e e will. W h a t is surprising is the f a c t that his attitude is in any degree ambiguous.- 2 N o t at all ambiguous, however, is his reaction to the other important pseudo-science of the time, alchemy, which he r e g a r d s as contemptible. H i s first m e t a p h o r sets the tone : [ T h e bishops'] trade being, by the same Alchymy that the Pope
to extract heaps of gold, and silver out of the drossie Bullion
uses,
of the
Peoples sinnes . . . [they fear that the people may] looke with a good judgement into these their deceitfull Pedleries. {Ref., I I I , 5 6 )
Subsequent images, while not so explicit, are equally clear. 2 3 B i s h o p H a l l , in attacking M i l t o n , is not only, as we h a v e seen, 2 4 a bad a s t r o l o g e r but also a tricky alchemist: 22 For a discussion of belief in astrology in Elizabethan England see Hardin C r a i g , The Enchanted Glass (New York, 1936), pp. 33-42. 23 One metaphor has no implications one w a y or the other: prelacy "is a distill'd quintessence, a pure elixar of mischief" (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 276). It ¡9, however, again applied to prelacy.
'* See above.
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where my morning haunts are he tvisses not. T i s wonder, that being so rare an Alchymist of slander, he could not extract that, as well as . . . [other false charges] which his art could distill so cunningly, but because his Limbeck failes him . . . Ile tell him. ( A p o l . , I l l , 298)
The irony here is plain. Hall's slanders are as fraudulent as an alchemist's gold. Again, censorship is evil : it will be a harder alchymy then Lullius good use out of [it]. {Area., I V , 306)
ever knew, to sublimât any
T h e force of this metaphor depends upon the belief that it was difficult, if not impossible, for Lully to sublimate anything. Finally, in two non-figurative passages in Paradise Lost Milton speaks disparagingly of the vain search for the philosopher's stone, 25 and of the belief of the sooty and empirical alchemist that transmutation is possible. 2 · It is not in science that Milton is most at home, and all this information is inconsequential in comparison to his profound knowledge of the Bible and the great body of English, Latin, and Greek literature. T h a t he knew the Bible almost by heart needs no demonstration here ; what should be pointed out is the fact that nothing could more clearly show the way in which habitual thought is embodied in imagery. Milton lived with the Bible at his elbow, and nearly four hundred images based on Biblical texts (with others doubtless overlooked) have been listed in the course of this study. These texts are drawn from twenty-three books of the Old Testament, fourteen of the New Testament, and six of the Apocrypha. 27 T h e books chiefly utilized are Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, I Kings, Matthew, M a r k , and Luke (usually texts common to all three), and Revelation. T h e synoptic gospels and Revelation are by far the most heavily " Bk. I I I , II. 598-60». « Bk. V, II. 439-443. 27 Those books missing are: from the Old Testament, Leviticus, Ruth, I Chronicles, Ezra, Ecclesiastes, Song of Solomon, and almost all the minor prophets: Hosea, Joel, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Malachi; from the New Testament most of the lesser epistles: Philippians, Colossians, Titus, Philemon, James, I I Peter, I, II, I I I John, Jude.
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represented. 2 8 In addition, there are a very large number of references that cannot be localized, such as sheep, 2 9 Philistines, Pharisees, the ark of the covenant, and the like. T h e fact that any subject w a s likely to suggest a Biblical figure may be illustrated by the references noted in the diverse material of the preceding chapters. 3 0 W e may here note the variety of imáges applied to the same subject. T a k e , f o r example, divorce : [ T h o s e interpreting M i l t o n ' s doctrine as licence] discern themselves like that Assyrian blasphemer . . . reproaching not man but the A l mighty; 3 1 ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 3 7 1 ) [In converting a heathen w i f e a man m a y ] set some reasonable time to himselfe after which he may give over washing an Ethiope, if he will heare the advice of the Gospell ; 3 2 (Doct. Div., I l l , 414) - 8 M a t t h e w , M a r k , Luke, 39 images i n v o l v i n g 36 texts; Revelation, 38 images, 26 texts. 2 9 A l s o shepherd, sheephook, flock, herdsman, wolves. 3 0 See Chapter 1 : a king (Samson), coin (tribute to Caesar, note 10), bonds and bondage, yoke and yoking (note 1 5 ) , scales and balance (note 18), buildings (build on sand, etc., note 23), thief (thief entering sheepfold, note 24), iron fetters or rod (rod of iron, note 32), bishops' regalia (Aaron's robes, note 39), virtue's a v o i d i n g a race (St. Paul's running a race, note 55), clergy or "cymbal doctors" (St. Paul's tinkling c y m b a l s ) , poetry—personified—with a harp, e n g r a v i n g ( l a w s e n g r a v e n in the heart, note 7 5 ) , a broad path (the w a y leading to destruction, note 7 6 ) , the influence of the Pleiades (note 76) ; Chapter 2 : lamp of s a v i n g light on a hill ( s a v i n g health among nations, city set on a hill, note 7 ) , poor cooking (scorpion g i v e n for fish, note 12), food (leaven, manna, sincere milk note 17, meats offered to idols note 18), salt (seasoned with salt, note 19), cleaning (sweeping and garnishing, note 43), union of church and state ( G o d j o i n i n g man and woman in one flesh), father's treatment of children (no longer under a schoolmaster, note 53), schooling ( M o s a i c L a w a schoolmaster, note 55) ; C h a p t e r 3: path (straight path of the Lord note 8, leading to destruction note 9, ascending the hill of G o d note 10), fighting (spiritual armor, note 19), fortress (note 2 1 ) , proclaim w a r (set up a standard, note 24) ; Chapter 4 : light of goodness or knowledge, darkness of evil or ignorance (note S9), conformity ( w o o d and hay forced together, note 86) ; Chapter 5: Milton's critics (hogs before w h o m pearls are cast, note 1 ) , civil p o w e r of church (ass riding lion, note 8), snare or bait (note 33), wings of the w i n d , Samson (wisdom of the adder, note 5 1 ) . 3 1 I I K i n g s 18, 19, especially 1 9 : 2 2 : " W h o m hast thou [ K i n g of A s s y r i a ] reproached and blasphemed? and against w h o m hast thou exalted thy voice, and lifted up thine eyes on h i g h ? even against the Holy One of Israel." S 2 Jeremiah 1 3 : 2 3 : " C a n the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spot· ? then may y e also do good, that are accustomed to do evil."
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[ W h a t can be worse in marriage than] to force a mixture of minds that cannot unite, and to sowe the f u r r o w of mans nativity with seed of two incoherent and uncombining dispositions; 3 3 ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 4 1 7 ) [In cases of rooted hatred divorce] like a divine touch in one moment heals all ; 34 and like the w o r d of G o d , in one instant hushes outrageous tempests into a sudden stilnesse and peacefull calm ; 3 5 (Doct. Div., I l l , 485) [Those w h o permit divorce] shall set free many daughters of Israel, not wanting much of her sad plight whom Satan had bound eighteen years; 36 (Doct. Div., I l l , 510) [Unhappy marriage] wraps us in a misery worse then any wildernes, as the Spirit of G o d himself judges. Prov. 19; 37 (Tetra., I V , 87) hee who taught us that no man puts a peece of new cloth upon an old garment, nor new wine into old bottles, that he should sow this patch of strictnes [of divorce] upon the old apparel of our frailty, to make a rent more incurable . . . this were [absurd]. 3 8 (Tetra., I V , 1 7 3 )
O r take, f o r a second example, England or the English people. It is here interesting to observe M i l t o n ' s change of attitude f r o m optimism to pessimism. In 1644 his hopes are high : W h y else was this Nation chos'n before any other, that out of her as out of Sion should be proclam'd and sounded forth the first tidings and trumpet of Reformation to all Europ; 39 (Arto., I V , 340) W h a t could a man require more from a Nation so pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge. W h a t wants there to such a towardly and 3 3 Deuteronomy 22: 9: " T h o u shalt not sow thy vineyard with divers seeds: lest the fruit of thy seed which thou hast sown, and the fruit of thy vineyard, be defiled." Milton has quoted this passage, incorrectly, on the 9ame page. 3 4 Christ's miracles of h e a l i n g — n o specific text. 3 5 M a t t h e w 8:26, M a r k 4 : 3 9 , Luke 8:24. 8 4 Luke 1 3 : 1 1 - 1 6 . 3 T Proverbs 2 1 : 1 9 : " I t is better to dwell in the wilderness, than with a contentious and an angry w o m a n . " 3 8 M a t t h e w 9 : 1 6 - 1 7 , M a r k 2 : 2 1 - 2 2 , Luke 5:36-37. 3 9 Isaiah 40: 9 : " O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not a f r a i d ; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your G o d !" Romans 1 1 : 2 6 : " A n d so all Israel shall be saved : as it is written, T h e r e shall come out of Sion the Deliverer, and shall turn a w a y ungodliness f r o m Jacob."
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pregnant soile, but wise and faithfull labourers, to make a knowing people, a Nation of Prophets, of Sages, and of Worthies. W e reck'n more then five months yet to harvest ; there need not be five weeks, had w e but eyes to lift up, the fields are white already ; 4 0 ( Areo., I V , 341 ) Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant Nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible l o c k s ; 4 1 {Arto., I V , 344)
In 1649 he has come to realize that some Englishmen insist upon their fondness f o r K i n g C h a r l e s : [ M e n w h o are infatuated with the K i n g ] may have none to blame but thir own folly, if they live and dye in such a strook'n blindness, as next to that of Sodom hath not happ'nd to any sort of men more gross, or more misleading; 4 Î ( E i i o n . , V , 6 7 ) God knows he [ K i n g Charles] had no passion, designe or preparation to imbroyle his Kingdom in a civili ÌVarr. T r u e ; for he thought his Kingdom to be Issachar a strong Ass that would have couch'd downe betweene two burd'ns, the one of prelatical superstition, the other of civil tyrannie; 4 3 (Eiion., V , 162) [ T o restore the King's power would be to] put us back to a second wandring over that horrid Wilderness of distraction and civil slaughter, which . . . we have . . . surviv'd ; 4 4 (Eikon., V , 288) A n d if by sentence thus writt'n it were my happiness to set free the minds of English men from longing to returne poorly under that Captivity of Kings, from which the strength and supreme Sword of Justice hath deliverd them, I shall have don a w o r k not much inferior to that of Zorobabel: who by well praising and extolling the force of T r u t h , in that contemplative strength conquer'd Darius; and freed his Countrey, 4 0 John 4 : 3 5 : " S a y not y e , T h e r e a r e y e t f o u r months, a n d then c o m c t h h a r v e s t ? behold, I say unto you, L i f t up y o u r eyes, a n d look on the fields; f o r they a r e w h i t e a l r e a d y to h a r v e s t . " 4 1 P s a l m s 1 9 : 4 - 5 : " I n them [ h e a v e n s ] h a t h he set a t a b e r n a c l e f o r the sun, W h i c h is a s a b r i d e g r o o m c o m i n g out of his c h a m b e r , a n d r e j o i c e t h a s a s t r o n g m a n to run a r a c e . " A l s o Samson, J u d g e s 1 3 - 1 6 . 4 2 G e n e s i s 18. 43 Genesis 49:14. 4 4 E x o d u s 14 flf. M i l t o n also uses the f i g u r e of the w i l d e r n e s s to r e f e r 1 ) to the period in the C h u r c h of E n g l a n d since the R e f o r m a t i o n , w h i c h d e l i v e r e d it f r o m the b o n d a g e of E g y p t ( A n i m . , I l l , 144, 1 4 7 ) , a n d 2) to the p e r i o d of the C o m m o n w e a l t h w h e n the E n g l i s h p e o p l e w e r e f r e e d f r o m t h e i r P h a r a o h s in
Egypt (First Def., VII, 179).
ι8ο
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and the people of G o d from the Captivity of Babylon. W h i c h I shall yet not despaire to doe, if they in this Land whose minds are yet Captive, be but as ingenuous to acknowledge the strength and supremacie of Justice, as that heathen king was, to confess the strength of truth ; 4 6 (Eikon., V , 293)
A n d in 1659 he is desperate : [If w e call back a king, this act] will render us a scorn and derision to all our neighbours. A n d what will they at best say of us and of the whole English name, but scoffingly as of that foolish builder, mentiond by our Saviour, w h o began to build a tower, and was not able to finish it. 46 W h e r e is this goodly tower of a Commonwealth, which the English boasted they would build to overshaddow kings, and be another Rome in the west? T h e foundation indeed they laid gallantly; but fell into a wors confusion, not of tongues, but of factions, then those at the tower of Babel; 47 (Ready fcf Easy Way, V I , 1 1 7 - 1 1 8 ) [ T h e restitution of the L o n g Parliament was] a signal Victory, when so great a part of the Nation were desperately conspir'd to call back again thir Egyptian B o n d a g e ; 4 8 ( A Letter to a Friend, V I , 102) 4 5 T h e story of the three p a g e s a n d the decree of D a r i u s : I E s d r a s 3 : 1 - 4 : 4 8 " N o w k i n g D a r i u s m a d e a g r e a t f e a s t unto all his s u b j e c t s . . . T h e n the t h r e e y o u n g men of the b o d y - g u a r d . . . spake one to a n o t h e r : Let e v e r y one o f us s a y one t h i n g w h i c h s h a l l be s t r o n g e s t : a n d he w h o s e sentence shall seem w i s e r than the others, unto him shall D a r i u s the k i n g g i v e g r e a t g i f t s a n d g r e a t honours in token o f v i c t o r y . . . T h e first w r o t e , W i n e is the s t r o n g est. T h e second w r o t e , T h e k i n g is strongest. T h e t h i r d w r o t e W o m e n a r e s t r o n g e s t , but a b o v e all t h i n g s T r u t h b e a r e t h a w a y the v i c t o r y . . T h e n the t h i r d , w h o h a d spoken of w o m e n , and of truth (this w a s Z o r a b a b e l ) b e g a n to s p e a k . . . and all the p e o p l e then shouted a n d said, G r e a t is truth, and s t r o n g a b o v e all things. T h e n s a i d the k i n g unto him, A s k w h a t thou w i l t m o r e t h a n is appointed in w r i t i n g , and w e w i l l g i v e it thee, i n a s m u c h as thou a r t f o u n d w i s e s t . . . T h e n s a i d he unto the k i n g , R e m e m b e r thy v o w , w h i c h thou d i d s t v o w to build J e r u s a l e m . . . T h e n D a r i u s the k i n g . . . w r o t e letters f o r him unto all the t r e a s u r e r s and g o v e r n o r s . . . t h a t they should s a f e l y b r i n g on their w a y both him and all those that should g o up w i t h him to build Jerusalem."
T h e story is also told by F l a v i u s Josephus, The Antiquities of the Jcv:s, B k . X I , ch. 3 {Works, ed. W . W h i s t o n , N e w Y o r k , 1889, II, 207 ff.). 4 8 L u k e 1 4 : 2 7 - 3 0 : " A n d w h o s o e v e r doth not b e a r his cross, a n d come a f t e r me, c a n n o t be my disciple. F o r w h i c h of you, i n t e n d i n g to build a t o w e r , sitteth not d o w n first, and counteth the cost, w h e t h e r he h a v e sufficient to finish i t ? L e s t h a p l y , a f t e r he hath l a i d the f o u n d a t i o n , a n d is not able to finish it, all t h a t b e h o l d it b e g i n to mock him, S a y i n g , T h i s m a n b e g a n to build, and w a s not able to finish." 47 Genesis 1 1 : 1-9. 48 Exodus.
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[ T h e people] seem now chusing them a captain back for Egypt.** (Ready & Easy Way, V I , 149)
Y e t even the marriage tie and the welfare of England were of minor importance. T h e subject that chiefly engaged his attention was religion. Involved as he was in prolonged controversies, the text of the Bible provided him not only with arguments and illustrations but also with an abundance of imagery. By this means he expressed his hatred of the Church Fathers, church ritual and observances, and in particular the episcopal system, the bishops themselves and the clergy as a whole. Reverence for the Church Fathers, or antiquity, is a kind of idol worship: 8 0 M o r e tolerable it were for the Church of G O D that all these Names [martyrs, fathers, Christian Emperors, and authorities in general] were utterly abolisht, like the Brazen Serpent; then that mens fond opinion should thus idolize them; " (Ref., I I I , i o ) B u t if any shall strive to set up his Ephod [official garment of Jewish priest], and Teraphim [images connected with magical rites] of A n tiquity against the brightnesse, and perfection of the Gospell, let him feare lest he and his Baal be turn'd into Bosheth [the shameful thing, an expression used to designate Baal] ; 5 2 (Prélat. Epis., I I I , 104) [ W e shall] throw down your Nebuchadnexzars Image [antiquity] and crumble it . . . as well the gold of those Apostolick Successors that you boast of, as your Constantinian silver, together with the iron, the brasse, and the clay of those muddy and strawy ages that f o l l o w . " (Anim., I I I , 1 4 0 - 1 4 1 ) 4 9 Numbers 1 4 : 4 : " A n d they said one to another, Let us make a captain, and let us return into Egypt." 5 0 For other, non-biblical derogatory images see Chapter 1 : their seeming bulk is h o l l o w ; they are polluted rags dropped from the shoulders of T i m e ; Chapter 4 : they are more chaff than w h e a t ; the miscellaneous catch of a fisherman ; the dim reflection of truth. 5 1 Numbers 2 1 : 9 : " A n d Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived." II K i n g s 1 8 : 4 : " H e removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had made: for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to it." 5 2 For teraphim, see Judges 17-18. 5 3 Daniel 2: 35.
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i82 I t is d i s g u s t i n g :
[ T h e bishops] have started back from the purity of Scripture . . . the old vomit of your traditions." 4 ( Apol., I l l , 325) M o r e o v e r , M i l t o n strenuously objects to the liturgy of
to
the
E n g l i s h c h u r c h o f h i s d a y . 5 5 I t is a p a g a n c o r r u p t i o n o f t h e g o s p e l and should be done a w a y with : [ L i t u r g y is] a pollution and disturbance to the Gospell it selfe; and a kinde of driving us with the foolish Galatians to another gospell ; s < (Apol.,
Ill,
355)
Remon. It is no little advantage . . . that our Liturgy is taught to speak severall languages for use and example. Answ. T h e language of Ashdod [Philistine city] is one of them, and that makes so many English-men have such a smattering of their Philistian
Mother;"
(Anim., Ill,
122)
wee ought to . . . rid our selves of corrupt Discipline, as wee would shake fire out of our bosomes." (Ref., I I I , 66) H e ridicules the efforts o f the E n g l i s h bishops t o h a v e their ritual a d o p t e d by other
countries:
[Liturgy had a] greedy desire to win Proselites by conforming to them [Catholics] unlawfully, like the desire of Tamar, who to raise up seed to her Husband sate in the common road drest like a Curtezan, and he that came to her committed incest with her. 89 (Anim., I l l , 130) W h a t M i l t o n c h i e f l y d i s l i k e s a b o u t t h e l i t u r g y is i t s f o r m a l i t y : its r e s p o n s o r i e s , l i t a n i e s , a n d s e t f o r m s o f p r a y e r , w h i c h h e 5 4 P r o v e r b s 2 6 : 1 1 : " A s a d o g returneth to bis vomit, so a f o o l returneth to bis f o l l y . " 5 9 F o r other non-Biblical d e r o g a t o r y i m a g e s see C h a p t e r 1 : it is P o p U h l y attired, like a m a t r o n in a w h o r e ' s clothes ; it c o v e r s truth w i t h polluted clothi n g ; C h a p t e r 2 : it is a scorpion that no cooking can turn into a fish. 6 6 G a l a t i a n s 3 : 1 : " O foolish G a l a t i a n s , w h o hath b e w i t c h e d you, that y e should not obey the t r u t h ? " 5 7 I Samuel 5 ; I I C h r o n i c l e s 26, etc. 5 8 P r o v e r b s 6: 27: " C a n a m a n take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned?" 5 9 G e n e s i s 38. A second i m a g e does not i n v o l v e a Biblical t e x t : " A n d i n d e e d our Liturgie hath run up a n d d o w n e the w o r l d like an E n g l i s h g a l l o p p i n g N u n [ a l a y religious pensioner], p r o f f e r i n g h e r selfe, but w e e h e a r e of none y e t that b i d s money f o r h e r " (Anim., I l l , 1 2 2 ) .
Books and Learning calls
"Rabbinical
great
fumes."
deal of controversy
ing f o r
extemporary
60
This
last
in w h i c h
prayers.
183
detail
Milton
Another
gave
rise
took part,
hotly
to
a
argu-
disputed
prac-
tice w a s t h e r a i l i n g off o f t h e a l t a r : a r e p u g n a n t a n d c o n t r a d i c t i v e M o u n t S i n a i in the G o s p e l l . * 1 (R.
Ch.
Gov.,
Ill,
261)
T h e s a c r a m e n t o f C o m m u n i o n is o f f e n s i v e t o h i m : by s u c h a r g u m e n t s
. . .
of their M a s s e a g a i n e ;
62
[ t h e bishops] w e r e setting u p the m o l t e n C a l f e ( R . Ch.
Gov.,
I l l , 203)
a s a r e a e s t h e t i c e m b e l l i s h m e n t s in g e n e r a l :
63
the I d o l a t r o u s erection of T e m p l e s beautified exquisitely to out-vie the P a p i s t s , the c o s t l y a n d d e a r e - b o u g h t S c a n d a l s , and snares of Pictures,
rich C o a p s ,
gorgeous Altar-clothes.
t e r i a l s t h e n t h e s e h a v e b u i l t u p t h e spirituali her A b o m i n a t i o n s ? " Along
with
{Ref.,
these
III,
details,
. . . What
Images,
other
ma-
B A B E L to the heighth of
54) there
are
a
number
of
others
which should be considered here even though the images
do
H i s other images on these points do not i n v o l v e Biblical texts: [ T o repeat the K i n g ' s arguments concerning p r a y e r s ] " w o u l d turn my ans w e r s into Responsories, and begett another Liturgie, h a v i n g too much of one a l r e a d y " ; (Eikon., V, 262) 80
[ M u l t i p l e imprimaturs of censors] " a r e the prety responsories, these are the d e a r e Antiphonies that so bewitcht of late our Prélats, and their C h a p l a i n e * with the goodly Eccho they m a d e " ; (Arto., I V , 304) [ I n responsories the functions of priest and people are c o n f u s e d ] " T h e like, or w o r s e may be said of the Litany, w h e r e i n neither Priest nor people speak any intire sense of themselves throughout the w h o l e I know not w h a t to name i t ; only by the timely contribution of their parted stakes closing up as it w e r e the schisme of a slic't p r a y e r " ( A f o l . , I l l , 3 5 1 - 3 5 2 ) . F o r other d e r o g a t o r y figures concerning set p r a y e r s see C h a p t e r 1 : they a r e the u g l y g a r n i s h i n g of the decency of extempore p r a y e r s ; the drone of plain s o n g ; C h a p t e r 2: corrupt and saltless meat barreled u p ; a lesson learned by rote under a schoolmaster's r o d ; interlineary translations provided f o r child r e n ; C h a p t e r 4 : as monotonous as a cuckoo's cry. 6 1 E x o d u s 19: 12. 8 2 E x o d u s 32. Λ second image does not i n v o l v e a Biblical text: [ I n the episcopal ceremony the Eucharist is] " p a g e a n t e d about, like a d r e a d f u l ! I d o l " (Ref., III, 4 ) . 6 3 Contrast the high-roofed cloisters, storied w i n d o w s , p e a l i n g organ, and f u l l - v o i c e d choir that dissolve him into ecstasies (Il Prit., I, 4 5 ) . 84 Genesis 1 1 : 1-9.
184
Books and Learning
not involve Biblical texts. Obviously Milton objected to Catholic particularities: indulgences and commutation of penance— [ T h e King] like a kind of Pope, sold them [Irish Catholics] many indulgences for Mony; ( E i k o n V , 190) [ T o put licencers in place of bishops] is but an old canonicali slight of commuting our penance. ( AreoIV, 331)
rosaries, or rubrics; the belief in saints, martyrs, and relics— [ T h e King left his prayers in Eikon Basilike, hoping] by these goodly reliques to be held a Saint and Martyr; (Eikon., V , 90)
and in the stigmata. H e is also scornful of the J e w i s h phylactery : 6 5 reverend and lerned Divines, as they are stil'd in the Phylactery of thir own Title page; ( T e n u r e , V , 5 3 ) [Hall did not write under his title of Bishop] in disguise without his superscription or Phylactery either of holy or Prelat. ( Apol., I I I , 3 1 0 )
On the eve of the Restoration, he expresses his bitter consciousness that the Royalists were about to reimpose episcopalianism in a figure based on its detested observances: If thir absolute determination be to enthrall us, before so long a Lent of Servitude, they may permitt us a little Shroving-time first, wherin to speak freely, and take our leaves of Libertie. (Ready & Easy JVay, V I , 1 1 1 )
Y e t in spite of this comprehensive objection to ceremonial, he has some figures that are not derogatory. W h e n he wrote L'Allegro, he had not, perhaps, yet broken with the Church of England : And Crop-full out of dores he flings, Ere the first Cock his Mattin rings. (I, 3 8 )
T h i s is not the case in the church and divorce pamphlets. H e r e the neutral images remain inconsistencies. Either Milton did not notice these vestiges of an earlier way of thinkA small leather box, containing scriptural texts, w o r n during hence, a charm.
prayer;
Books and Learning ing
ββ
185
o r he m a d e d e l i b e r a t e artistic use o f t h e m w i t h o u t
f e e l i n g o b l i g e d t o indicate his d i s a p p r o v a l :
67
These [self-reproaches] and such like lessons as these, I know would have been my Matins duly, and my Even-song. (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 3 3 ) [Milton is one who] now for haste snatches up a plain ungarnish't present as a thanke-offering to [God] ; ( Anim., I l l , 148) [If liturgy copies Romish forms] How can we believe ye would refuse to take the stipend of Rome, when ye shame not to live upon the almesbasket of her prayers? ·» (Apol., III, 354) [Truth is ignominious at birth until time has] Churcht ** the father [of it] . . . from the needlesse causes of his purgation ;
(Doct. Dir., Ill, 370)
Christ himselfe sends not our hope on pilgrimage to the worlds end.
(Tetra., IV, 201)
A l l these o b s e r v a n c e s are p a r t and parcel o f the episcopal system, and it is this t h a t bears the brunt of M i l t o n ' s attack. 7 0 P r e l a c y is a b a b e l ; it is p a g a n idol w o r s h i p : 7 1 [The King] hath the same fix'd . . . esteem of his old Ephesian Goddess, call'd the Church of England.12 (Eikon., V, 279) Bishops
73
a r e C a n a a n i t e s and Philistines; they h a v e a l m o s t
Also altar, shrine, cathcdral, sanctuary, diocese. For a similar inconsistency in regard to royalty see Chapter i . 6 8 T h e scorn in this image is not directed against the alms-basket. e e T h e ceremony of the churching of women after childbirth. C f . "Methought I saw my late espoused Saint." 7 0 A s does, of course, the Catholic C h u r c h : the "whore sitting on that beast in the Revelation" (Hirelings, V I , 81) or the beast itself. For an image attacking Jesuits see Chapter i, shopkeepers. 7 1 For other derogatory images see Chapter ι : it blanches its deformities and presents a false-whited resemblance of the true gospel; it is a drudging trade, a corrupt judicial court, a w a x i m a g e ; Chapter 2: a screen to hide ambition and avarice, a wen, the mate of discord; Chapter 5: a serpent slain by the 7 2 Acts 19:28. sun of God's word. 7 3 Chaplains are summarily disposed o f ; not being a scriptural order of ministers "they are left . . . to such a furder examining as the Sons of Sceva the Jew met with." (Eikon., V, 259) T h e y were exorcists who tried to cast out spirits in Jeeus' name, but who were attacked and wounded by the evil spirits (Acts 1 9 : 1 3 - 1 6 ) . W h e n K i n g Charles in his captivity w a s deprived of his chaplains he made "more Lamentation for the want of . . . [them than] ββ 87
Books and Learning
ι8ό
d r i v e n G o d ' s saints into the R e d S e a ; they are open sepulc h e r s ; they h a v e infected a third p a r t of the k i n g d o m like the apostate star in Revelation; they torment men like the locusts at the day of j u d g e m e n t . 7 4 M i l t o n brings a detailed list o f charges against them. 7 5 T h e y are g r e e d y ; 7 0 their t w o g o d s are M a m m o n and their b e l l y ; they are as base as the priests o f Bel o r as Simon M a g u s , w h o offered to buy the apostles' p o w e r ; as G e h a z i or as A m n o n : N o r content as Gehazi was to make a cunning, but a const raind advantage of what thir master bids them give freely, how can they but returne smitten, worse then that sharking minister, with a spiritual leprosie? 77 (Hirelings, V I , 68) when they have stufït their Idolish temples with the wastefull pillage of your estates, will they yet have any compassion upon you . . . will they be but so good to you as that ravisher [Amnon] was to his sister [ T a m a r ] , when he had us'd her at his pleasure, will they but onlj· hate ye and so turne ye loose? 7 8 ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 270)
T h e y are money-changers w h o h a v e made the church a den o f thieves, selling not doves, but the dove, the holy spirit itself.7® (Sec. Def., V I I I , 237)
S e a t e d under their spreading vine, they are luxurious in their m a n n e r of l i v i n g : 8 0 Micah . . .
[ f o r ] bis houshold P r i e s t " (Eikon., V , 260). See J u d g e s 1 7 - 1 8 . Revelation 9:2-3. 7 3 F o r other d e r o g a t o r y i m a g e s see C h a p t e r 1 : they a r e h a w k e r s and j u g g l e r s ; t h e y deck the b o d y not in innocence but in e l a b o r a t e c l o t h e s ; they h a v e h a n d s r e a d y to o r d a i n f o r m o n e y ; C h a p t e r 2 : they put their f o o t in the broth ( i n t e r f e r e ) ; C h a p t e r 3: they a r e the soldiers of t y r a n n y ; C h a p t e r 4 : they a r e s t r a n g e g a r d e n e r s c l a i m i n g a u t h o r i t y and t e n - f o l d w a g e s ; t h e y suppress schism as w i n t e r suppresses the d e l i g h t s of s p r i n g ; they a r e ships under f u l l s a i l , a n d s a i l o r s in the r i g g i n g ; C h a p t e r 5: they a r e serpents, d o r m i c e , hackneys, p a c k - h o r s e s , f e r r e t s , w i l d beasts, w h a l e s , w o l v e s , dogs, a n d v e r m i n . F o r ministers in g e n e r a l , see C h a p t e r 1 : they a r e as g r e e d y a s s h o p k e e p e r s ; C h a p t e r 3 : their m a n e u v e r s a r e a s d e v i o u s as a b a t t a l i o n d r i l l ; C h a p t e r 5: t h e y a r e lured by w a g e s as a b i r d is l u r e d by a f o w l e r ' s l o w - b e l l . 7 0 See C h a p t e r 1, shopkeepers. 7 7 I I Kings 5:20-27. 7 8 II S a m u e l 13 : 1 - 2 2 . 79 Matthew 21:12-13. 8 0 I n c l u d i n g p l u r a l i t y of c u r e s : U n d e r censorship, "the P a s t o r of a small un74
187
Books and Learning
T w o Leeches they have that still suck, and suck the Kingdome, their Ceremonies, and their C o u r t s ; 8 1 (Ref., I I I , 54) [ G o d ] can easily send labourers into his Harvest, that shall not cry, Give, give, but be contented with a moderate and beseeming allowance." (Anim., I l l , 1 6 3 ) T h e y and their f e l l o w ministers are gluttonous, Capernaitans c a p a b l e o n l y of
belly-cheer,83
eager
f o r the
fleshpots
of
Egypt: Prélats revell like Belshazzar with their full carouses in Goblets, and vessels of gold snatcht from Gods Temple(Ref., III, 55) a n d u n m i n d f u l o f the e x a m p l e o f C h r i s t ' s f r u g a l i t y : [ A rich man's chaplain is] better breakfasted then he whose morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs between Bethany and Jerusalem(Areo., IV, 334) T h e y are tyrannous; E g y p t i a n taskmasters, Ephesian beasts, a n d c r u e l N i m r o d s ; t h e y h a v e m a d e E n g l a n d a h o u s e of bondage till all the Land grone, and cry out, as against a whippe of Scorpions.86 (Ref., I I I , 49) a n d a r e e n d e a v o r i n g to m a k e all the p e o p l e docile s l a v e s , by their corrupt and servile doctrines boring our eares to an everlasting slavery, 81 (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 270) a m o n g w h o m the u n t h i n k i n g m o b a r e s l a v e s a l r e a d y : [ T h e King's prayers may] catch the worthies approbation of an inconstant, irrational, Image-doting rabble; that like a credulous and hapless learned Pariah, on the sudden shall be exalted Archbishop over a large dioces of books, and yet not remove, but Iceep his other cure too, a mysticall pluralist" reo., IV, 3 3 1 ) . 81 Proverbs 30: 15, " T h e horseleech hath two daughters, crying Give, give." 82 Matthew 9: 38, Proverbs 3 0 : 1 5 . 88 Christ rebuked Capernaum for its unbelief. Matthew 1 1 : 2 3 ; Luke 1 0 : 1 5 . 85 ββ "Daniel 5:1-4. Matthew 2 1 : 1 7 - 2 2 . I Kings 1 2 : 1 1 . 87 Exodus 2 1 : 6: A Hebrew slave must serve six years and may then go free but must leave his wife and children in slavery. If, however, he renounces his freedom, "Then his master shall bring him unto the judges; he shall also bring him to the door, or unto the door post; and his master shall bore his ear through with an a w l ; and he shall serve him for ever."
Books and Learning
ι88
herd . . . hold out both thir cares . . .
to be stigmatiz'd and board
through in witness of thir own voluntary and beloved baseness.·· (Eikon., V, 309) They
are
great
men
proud; of
stiff-necked m e r c h a n t s
the e a r t h ) ,
they
of
Babylon
step up into the
(the
chair
of
p o n t i f i c a l p r i d e a n d sit l o r d i n g it o v e r t h e c h u r c h in t h e i r f a t bishoprics,
e v e n c l a i m i n g t h e r i g h t t o s e a t s in
Parlia-
m e n t ; t h e y t r a c e t h e i r line o f a p o s t o l i c d e s c e n t a s d i d Bishop of
the
Armagh
enforcing himselfe with much ostentation of endlesse genealogies, as if he were the man that S. Paul forewarnes us of in Timothy.*' (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 0 5 ) Y e t p r o u d as they are, they d e p e n d on the K i n g : [Prelates must] lift up their eyes to the hils of the Court, from whence only comes their help. 90 (R.
Ch. Gov.,
Ill, 272)
I n h i s f a l l t h e y m o u r n f o r h i m a s f o r T a m m u z , a n d cut t h e i r flesh
f o r h i m like the rueful priests w h o m E l i j a h
They
mocked.
a r e dull of m i n d ; as slavish as the J e w s w h e n
l e f t E g y p t , as dead-alive as the church of S a r d i s , they
they are
mere dumb beasts, those Beasts of Amalee,
the Prélats,· 1 (Eikon.,
f a t o x e n fit t o b e s a c r i f i c e d . T h e y
V, 152)
are l a z y ; t h e y ' l e a v e
the
m i n i s t e r i a l w o r k w h i c h should be their o w n concern to underlings : 88 In these two passages the phrasing ("everlasting slavery"; "voluntary baseness") points unmistakably to Exodus (see above) as a source. It is true, however, that the boring of the ears was a common oriental custom and that Roman slaves from the East were so treated (H. W. Johnston, The Private Lives of the Romans. Rev. ed., New York, 1932, p. 103). Milton has a third image referring to this treatment and to the whitening of the feet, which was a universal Roman custom (Johnston, loc. cit.) : "Though you [Salmasius] stood f o r w a r d . . . with both ears bored and gypsum-whitened feet, exposed for sale, you would not be so much the most contemptible of slaves as now you are" (First Def., VII, 367). Milton is here probably thinking of Juvenal, Satire I, 1 0 2 - 1 1 1 , though there are other references. • • I Timothy 1 : 4 : "Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith." 80 91 P s a l m s m : t. 1 Samuel 15.
Books and Learning
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w h o is he so arrogant so presumptuous that durst dispose and guide the living arke of the holy Ghost, though he should finde it wandring in the field of Bethshemesh, without the conscious warrant of some high calling. B u t no profane insolence can paralell that which our Prelates dare avouch, to drive outragiously, and shatter the holy arke of the Church, not born upon their shoulders with pains and labour in the word, but drawne w i t h rude oxen their officials, and their owne brute inventions. L e t them make shewes of reforming while they will, so long as the Church is mounted upon the Prelaticall Cart, and not as it ought betweene the hands of the Ministers, it will but shake and totter, and he that sets to his hand though with a good intent to hinder the shogging of it, in this unlawfull waggonry wherein it rides, let him beware it be not fatali to him as it was to Uzza.92 (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 1 8 7 - 1 8 8 ) T h e y are deceitful : [Bishops claim to be the only protection against a flood of sects] A n d thus doe they raise an evill report upon the expected reforming grace that G o d hath bid us hope for, like those faithlesse spies, whose carcasses shall perish in the wildernesse of their owne confused ignorance." (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 1 4 ) A n d t h e y a r e a s h y p o c r i t i c a l as P h a r i s e e s , s t r a i n i n g a t a g n a t and swallowing a c a m e l ; 9 4 some of them advance arguments f o r at least partial opposition to the K i n g and then c h a n g e their position, seeming to stand with great zeale and confidence on the wall of Sion; but like Jebusites [inhabitants of Jerusalem], not like Israelites, or Levites: blinde also as well as lame, they discern not David from Adonibezec [ L o r d of Besek, a city of Canaan] : but cry him up for the Lords anointed, whose thumbs and great toes not long before they had cut off upon thir Pulpit cushions." 5 ( T e n u r e , V , 5 7 ) M i l t o n ' s attack w a s directed not only against the
epis-
c o p a l s y s t e m in g e n e r a l b u t a l s o a g a i n s t i n d i v i d u a l b i s h o p s , n o t a b l y B i s h o p H a l l . ' J G H e is a son o f B e l i a l w i t h o u t t h e h i r e 9 3 Numbers 1 3 : 1 7 - 3 3 . II Samuel 6 : 1 - 1 1 . A f t e r the Presbyterians turned against Parliament, Milton attacks them much as he does the bishops: they talk as little to the purpose as Saul did w h e n he prophesied; their covetousness is as bottomless as the pit from which their fellow locusts were released; the Belfast Presbytery are Carmelites, and 1,5 Joshua 15: 63, Judges 1 : 1 - 8 . haughty in their pontifical see. · · For other derogatory images see Chapter 1 : he is a scavenger, a beadle, 02
84
Books and Learning
iço
of J e z e b e l , a cursing Shimei, a L a o d i c e a n , an u n f a i t h f u l spy o f C a n a a n , 9 7 a m a n t h a t l o o k s w i t h B a l a a m ' s eyes, a d a u b e r , a J o a b , and a C a i a p h a s : [ T h e bishops arc corrupt] and yet this Dauber would daub still with his untempered M o r t e r : B u t hearken what G o d sayes by the Prophet Exekiel, Say unto them that daub this wall with untempered Morter, that it shall fall, there shall be an overflowing shower, and yee O great hailstones shall fall, and a stormy wind shall rend it, and I will say unto you, the wall is no more, neither they that daubt it ; 9 8 ( A n i m . , I l l , 1 7 0 ) Remon.
N o w come these brotherly S l a n d e r e r s .
A nsu). Goe on dissembling Joab, as still your use is, call brother and smite ; call brother and smite, till it bee said of you, as the like was of Herod, a man had better be your hog then your Brother ; " (Anim., I l l , 1 3 6 ) [ M i l t o n has charged the bishops with being pluralists, an accusation which proved to be true in H a l l ' s case. Hence,] our inrag'd Confuter, that he may be as perfet an hypocrite as Caiaphas, ere he be a High Priest, cries out, horrid blasphemy! and like a recreant J e w calls for i / o « « . 1 0 ' (ApoL, I I I , 3 0 8 ) I n s i m i l a r f a s h i o n h e f a l l s u p o n his o t h e r o p p o n e n t s . K i n g Charles
101
is N e b u c h a d n e z z a r ,
Belshazzar,
and A g a g ;
he
a cutler, a participant in a pageant; his oratory has elaborate laces, frizzles and bobbins; he tortures a text, and slits sentences as bishops slit noses; his modesty is pretence; he strains his fancy in describing himself, and cannot stand on his own legs in an argument; Chapter 2: his writing is as dull as dough ; his understanding needs physic; his desire to instruct is like an eczema ; his book has a heavy pulse; Chapter 3: he overworks his wit like a horse; Chapter 4: he thinks shallow reasoning deep, and his book is shallow; he unloads citations of authorities like cargo; Chapter 5: he is a viper, a serpent, a fox, a dog, a horse, and a seagull. 97 98 See above, note 93. Ezekiel 1 3 : 1 0 - 1 6 . βί I I Samuel 2 0 : 8 - 1 0 : "When they were at the great stone which is in Gibeon, Amasa went before them. And Joab's garment that he had put on was girded unto him, and upon it a girdle with a sword fastened upon his loins in the sheath thereof; and as he went forth it fell out. And Joab said unto Amasa, Art thou in health, my brother? And Joab took Amasa by the beard with the right hand to kiss him. But Amasa took no heed to the sword that was in Joab's hand : so he smote him therewith . . . and he died." When Herod executed his son Antipater, Augustus said, "It were better to be such a man's swine than his son," a remark which makes a pun in the Greek (Macrobius, Saturnalium Cortviviorum Libri Septem, I I : 4 ) . 100 Matthew 26:65, Mark 14:64. 101 For other derogatory images see Chapter 1 : he hides his worst action*
Books and Learning is d e v o t e d t o p e r d i t i o n
worse
than 1
is c u r s e d as b i t t e r l y a s w a s M e r o z . "
3
IÇI
any Antiochus;
102
he
H e accuses the r e f o r m -
ers of being factious as P h a r a o h accused the Israelites
of
being idle. H i s invective against those a p p e a l i n g f o r redress o f g r i e v a n c e s is a s s h a r p a s R e h o b o a m ' s , a n d h e h a s acted in good earnest w h a t Rehoboam did but threat'n, to make his little finger heavier then his Fathers loynes, and to whip us with his two twisted Scorpions, both temporal and spiritual T y r a n n y . 1 0 4 (Eikon., V , 2 7 7 - 2 7 8 ) He
displays
impenitence and obstinacy to the end ( f o r he was no
Manasseh),los {Eikon., V, 278)
H e is a s c r a f t y a s B a l a k : outwardly professing the same Religion with them [the Puritans], he could not presently use violence as Pharaoh did . . . [but] like to Balac the son of Zippor, against a Nation of Prophets thinks it best to hire other esteemed Prophets, and to undermine and weare out the true Church by a fais Ecclesiastical policy. 1 0 8 (Eikon., V , 2 2 7 ) H e is a s m a l i g n a n t a s S a n b a l l a t o r T o b i a h a t t h e b u i l d i n g o f J e r u s a l e m . 1 0 7 H e is a g r e a t e r t y r a n t t h a n S a u l o r A h a b seizing no one . . . one Naboths Vineyard, but . . . whole Inheritances under the pretence of Forrest, or C r o w n - L a n d s ; 1 0 8
(Eikon., V, 76)
T h e Ministers which were sent him [in his captivity] no marvel he indur'd not; for they Preacht repentance to h i m : the others [the King's own chaplains] gave him easie confession, easie absolution, nay w i t h d y e ; his h a n d s a r e h e a v y ; C h a p t e r 2 : he i n f l a m e d t h e n a t i o n ; he could not d i s t i n g u i s h good f r o m c o r r u p t b l o o d ; C h a p t e r 5: he is a v u l t u r e , a fox, a hog, and a r e m o r a . 102 A n t i o c h u s I V ( E p i p h a n e s ) a t t e m p t e d to a b o l i s h t h e J e w i s h religion, his p e r s e c u t i o n s r e s u l t i n g in t h e M a c c a b e a n r e b e l l i o n . 104 103 J u d g e s 5: 23. I K i n g s 12: 1 - 1 4 . 105 II C h r o n i c l e s 3 3 : 1 1 - 1 3 : " W h e r e f o r e the L o r d b r o u g h t upon t h e m the c a p t a i n s of the host of t h e k i n g of A s s y r i a , w h i c h took M a n a s s e h a m o n g t h e t h o r n s , a n d b o u n d h i m w i t h f e t t e r s , a n d c a r r i e d h i m to B a b y l o n . A n d w h e n he w a s in affliction, he b e s o u g h t t h e L o r d his G o d , a n d h u m b l e d himself g r e a t l y b e f o r e the G o d of his f a t h e r s , a n d p r a y e d u n t o h i m . " 100 107 108 N u m b e r s 22. N'ehemiah 4 : 1-6. I Kings 21: 1-14.
Books and Learning strength'nd his hands and hard'nd his heart by applauding him in his w i l f u l l wayes. T o them he was an Ahab, to these a Constantine; it must follow then that they to him were as unwelcome as Eliah was to A hab,10t these as deer, and pleasing as Amaxiah the Priest of Bethel was to Jeroboam. These had learnt well the lesson that would please; Prophesie not against Bethel, for it is the Kings Chappel, the Kings Court; and had taught the K i n g to say of those Ministers which the Parlament had sent, Amos hath conspir'd against me; the Land is not able to beare all his words.11" (EikonV, 261 ) I n w r i t i n g h i s t h r e e Defences
M i l t o n c a n n o t find s o m a n y
Biblical texts to apply to his opponents, yet he d o e s he c a n . 1 1 1
Salmasius,112
in q u o t i n g t h e p r o p h e t s
is a
what ras-
c a l l y f a l s e p r o p h e t ; h e is a s e c o n d B a l a a m s o l i c i t e d b y a second King
Balak:113
N o w your very speech bewrays you right Balaam ; for where you designed to vomit out all the venom of your bitterness, there unwittingly and against your will you have pronounced a blessing. 114 (First Def., V I I , 503) B e i n g an ass ridden by his w i f e , and being overgrown with the healed heads of the bishops that heretofore you had wounded, you seem to present a sort of miniature portrait of that beast in Revelation. 1 1 5 (First Def., V I I , 549) 1 , 0 Amos 7 : 1 0 - 1 3 . I Kings 21:14-24. T h e r e are no Biblical images directed against his opponent in Colasterion. For others, see Chapter 1 : he is a hangman, a barber, a tradesman setting up shop, a huckster, a hobbyhorse; his argument hobbles; Chapter 2 : his ignorance needs scouring; his dull book needs stirring and a clove to keep it from spoiling, and is fusty w i n e ; being mad he needs a d r a f t of medicine; the margin of his book has gout and dropsy; Chapter 5: he is a pork, a b a r r o w , a snout, a boar, a hackney, a fox, a brain-worm, a woodcock, a bee, a horsefly, a d o g ; he is cock-brained; his doctrine came out of a sty. 1 1 2 For other derogatory images see Chapter 1 : he is a public crier, a pugilist, a horse-boy, a buffoon, a g y p s y ; his arguments are the sweepings of a shop ; his defence of Charles I is the w a i l i n g of hired mourners ; he is a h a w k e r , a mountebank; his attack on the English is a worn-out cosmetic; one chapter is d o d d e r i n g ; he bawls, chatters, stammers, and babbles; Chapter 2 : he is a pest, a plague and a plague sore, mad and delirious, vomiting and belching abuse; Chapter 5: he is various disgusting animals. 1 1 3 Milton has eight images based on this episode, almost all of them unf a v o r a b l e to B a l a a m . 1 1 4 Numbers 22-24. 1 1 5 Revelation 17: 3. 109 111
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116
193
is shameless:
as he has determined with himself, that his only hope is in daring, having wiped his mouth like the harlot in the divine proverb . . . he struts abroad ; 1 1 7 ( D e f . of Him., I X , 7 7 )
hypocritical : having declared that he was pronounced innocent of certain charges, Riverius himself, embracing you, " N e v e r , (says he,) was Ethiopian so whitened as you have been this d a y . " A n d are you a man so extremely dull of sense, as not to perceive that, by this proverb, you are ridiculed rather than acquitted, when Riverius, by washing you, whitened an Ethiopian and expended his labour and chalk to no purpose? 1 1 8 H a i l to you, then, Ethiopian, or if you had rather, whited w a l l ; since the president of the synod has decorated you with the same title as P a u l did A n a n i a s ; 1 1 9 {Def. of Him., I X , 2 5 5 )
and at the same time ineffective : he is fierce, malicious, and the like, and you would almost think him another Beelzebub, but that he merely cast out flies.120 {Def. of Him., I X , 2 7 9 )
A l l this array of textual images, controversial and noncontroversial, while not exhaustive, is sufficient to show how habitually Milton thought in Scriptural phrases. Y e t important as the Bible was to him, it did not by any means constitute the whole of religion. Consequently we find images derived f r o m various other aspects of the subject : orthodox (in Milton's eyes), heretical, and Catholic opinions, J u d a ism, paganism, and popular superstitions. Orthodox is the belief in angels, heaven, and hell: ihe cherub contemplation 118 For other derogatory images see Chapter 1 : he is a corpse, a quack; he whines, bellows, gabbles, mutters, and croaks; Chapter 2 : he is an addled egg, a pest and a plague, mad and delirious, vomiting and belching a b u s e ; Chapter 5 : he is v a r i o u s disgusting animals. 117 Proverbs 3 0 : 2 0 , "Such is the w a y of an adulterous w o m a n ; she eateth, and wipeth her mouth, and saith, I have done no wickedness." 118 J e r e m i a h 1 3 : 2 3 , " C a n the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? then m a y ye also do good, that are accustomed to do e v i l . " 119 Acts 2 3 : 3, M a t t h e w 2 3 : 2 7 . 120 T h e w o r d Beelzebub means L o r d of Flies.
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s o a r s on g o l d e n w i n g s ; G o d ' s g r a c e is the speediest of his winged messengers; E v e ' s virtues create an awe About her, as a guard Angelic plac't; ( P . L . , II, 255) h e r l o o k s a r e the h e a v e n of mildness and she has h e a v e n in h e r e y e . H e a v e n and hell a r e spiritual states. M i l t o n tells us a g a i n and a g a i n that S a t a n n e v e r escapes f r o m h e l l : Which way I flie is Hell ; my self am Hell ; ( P . L . , II, 109) B u t they a r e also actual places, as a r e p u r g a t o r y a n d l i m b o , w h i c h M i l t o n does not seem to distinguish s h a r p l y f r o m hell itself : the Inquisition put books into the new Purgatory of an Index; (Areo., I V , 303) sought out new limbo's and new hells wherein they might include our Books also within the number of their damned; (Areo., I V , 305) a n d in r e a d i n g H a l l ' s b o o k , M i l t o n says, I am met with a whole ging [gang] of words and phrases not mine, for he hath maim'd them, and like a slve depraver mangl'd them in this his wicked Limbo. (Apol., I I I , 307) H e r e t i c a l is the dualism of the M a n i c h a e a n s : [Hall as the author of a book of humor] like that other principle of the Manichei the Arch evill one, when he had look't upon all that he had made and mapt out, could say no other but contrary to the Divine Mouth, that it was all very foolish. (Apol., I l l , 294) C a t h o l i c , and t h e r e f o r e heretical in M i l t o n ' s eyes, is the belief in m i r a c l e s outside of S c r i p t u r e , such as are f r e q u e n t l y m e n t i o n e d in the v a r i o u s monkish c h r o n i c l e s : as in the early periods of the reformation, the monks, from their weakness in argument, were used to have recourse to all manner of spectres and imaginary monsters; so you, after all other things have failed, resort to cries which were never heard [More's book The Cry of the Royal Blood to Heaven] and to arts of despicable friars. {Sec. Def., V I I I , 45) J u d a i s m is r e p r e s e n t e d by three i m a g e s d e r i v e d f r o m J e w i s h r e l i g i o u s scholarship.
M i l t o n ' s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of
the
Old
IQ5
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Testament texts on which the first part of Tetrachordon based is this plain and Christian
Talmud; 121 (Tetra.,
is
IV, 133)
Christ preserved the Mosaic Law w i t h a more accurat and lasting Masoreth, then [any other] ; 1 2 1
(Doct. Div., Ill, 376)
Since commentators often interpret Christ's speeches as hyperbole why in this one text should they be such crabbed masorites of the Letter, as not to mollifìe a transcendence of literal rigidity. 1 2 3
(Tetra., IV, 174)
Paganism is represented by figures based on idolatry and on the gods themselves: N o r let any man be deluded by . . . our dancing Divines, who . . . come with Scripture in thir mouthes, gloss'd and fitted for thir turnes with a double contradictory sense, transforming the sacred verity of G o d , to an Idol with two Faces, looking at once two several ways ;
( Tenure, V, 5 )
[ P a r l i a m e n t ] should have the goodnesse like gods, as ye are call'd, to . . . administer . . . redresses. (Tetra., I V , 7 2 )
These might be the gods of any religion. Often, however, Milton particularizes. There are figures based on the abject adoration of the gods of India, who were often demons, and on the belief in reincarnation: Scriptural commentators invest marriage with such an a w f u l l sanctity . . . as if it were to be worshipt like some Indian deity. (Doct. Div., I l l , 4 2 5 )
The claims of kings to divine right were not established. They had not yet fortified themselves by the blind superstition of the vulgar. T h e lower orders . . . had not yet degenerated into a barbarism viler 121 T h e T a l m u d is the body of J e w i s h civil and ceremonial l a w , both text and commentary. 122 T h e M a s o r a is the early J e w i s h tradition as to the correct form of the text of the Scriptures; also in the written editions, the m a r g i n a l notes, or the text and notes, embodying the results of this tradition. 123 A Masorete is a J e w i s h scholar contributing to the M a s o r a .
igó
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than what disgraces the Indians . . . for these merely worship as gods those malignant demons they are unable to put to flight ; while those, that they might not cashier tyrants when they had it in their power, exalted them into gods ; (Sec. Def., V I I I , 7 - 9 ) [If w e believe that] all miseries . . . [come] for sin, we must let them all lye upon us like the vermin of an Indian Catharist, which his fond religion forbids him to molest. 124 (Tetra., I V , 78) T h e r e are several images of the gods of the M e d i t e r r a n e a n lands : of Babylon, equated in the Protestant writing of the time with Rome, of P h r y g i a , and of Crete : [ M o r u s ] you never give over [preaching] ; and like a priest of the Phrygian mother 1 2 5 not yet mutilated, or one of the Curetes, 1 2 · you willingly strike your cymbals, not to drown any fabulous cry, but that you may overwhelm the rumours of your profligacies, which are but too true, with fanatical vociferation. (Def. of Him., I X , 2 8 5 ) but chiefly of E g y p t : In Eikon p r a y e r f r o m Sidney's Arcadia.
Basilike
the K i n g took a
T h e royalists are angry
that I should dare to tell abroad the secrets of thir ¿Egyptian (Eikon.,
Apis; V , 86)
T r u t h indeed came once into the world with her divine Master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to look on: but when he ascended, and his Apostles after him were laid asleep, then strait arose a wicked race of deceivers, who as that story goes of the ¿Egyptian Typhon with his conspirators, how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin T r u t h , hewd her lovely form into a thousand peeces, and scatter'd them to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends of T r u t h , such as durst appear, imitating the carefull search that Isis made for the mangl'd body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as they could find them. W e have not yet found them all, Lords and Commons, nor ever shall doe, till her Masters second comming; he 124 Λ member of one of v a r i o u s purist or extremist sects, w h o believed that the less spiritually advanced w e r e subject to reincarnation. 12e T h e goddess Cybele. 12« Earth-born demi-gods, attendants upon R h e a , in Crete, who, when she g a v e the infant Zeus into their charge, executed a wild dance so that the clamor drowned the child's cries and concealed his presence f r o m C r o n u s ; also, priests of the Cretan R h e a .
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1 9 7
shall bring together every joynt and member, and shall mould them into an immortali feature of lovelines and perfection. 121 {Arto., I V , 3 3 7 - 3 3 8 ) T h e r e is a n o t h e r r e f e r e n c e w h i c h is, s t r i c t l y s p e a k i n g , n o t an i m a g e but m e r e l y a c o m p a r i s o n , y e t w h i c h m a y be inc l u d e d h e r e as an r a r e e x a m p l e of e f f e c t i v e t h o u g h n o t b i t t e r humor : Remoti. Whether the professed slovenlinesse in Gods service, &c. Answ. W e have heard of Aaron and his linnen Amice, but those dayes are past ; and for your Priest under the Gospell that thinks himselfe the purer, or the cleanlier in his office for his new washt Surplesse, we esteem him for sanctitie little better than Apollonius Thyartaus 124 in his white frocke, or the Priest of Isis in his lawne sleeves, and they may all for holinesse lie together in the suds. ( A n i m . , I l l , 1 7 2 - 1 7 3 ) S o m u c h f o r w h a t m a y p r o p e r l y be c a l l e d r e l i g i o n . T h e r e r e m a i n to be c o n s i d e r e d v a r i o u s s u p e r s t i t i o n s , m o s t o f t h e m h a v i n g t o d o w i t h the p o w e r s o f d a r k n e s s , o f w h i c h M i l t o n m a k e s e s p e c i a l l y e f f e c t i v e use. O n e of the m o s t i n t e r e s t i n g t h i n g s a b o u t this g r o u p of i m a g e s is the f a c t t h a t t h e y d o n o t r e v e a l w i t h c e r t a i n t y the extent t o w h i c h M i l t o n h i m self s h a r e d the p o p u l a r b e l i e f s . T h e i m a g e s c o n c e r n e d w i t h g h o s t s g i v e no clue : [ W e are not ready for liberty] I fear yet this iron yoke of outward conformity hath left a slavish print upon our necks ; the ghost of a linnen decency yet haunts us; (Areo., I V , 348) [Opponents of civil freedom ask what the state will do about blasphemy] Them I would first exhort not thus to terrifie and pose the people with a Greek word . . . But we shall not carrie it thus ; another Greek apparition stands in our way, heresie and heretic; (Civil 1:7
Power,
VI,
10-11)
Merritt Y . Hughes points out that this myth is found in Plutarch's Moralia, and that Milton's interpretation is shared by many of his contemporaries. ("Milton as a Revolutionary," ELH, X, No. 2, June, 1943, 104). See also Douglas Bush {Mythology and the Renaissance Tradition, p. 269, note 52) for other possible sources. u s o f T y a n a in Cappadocia, a Neo-Pythagorean philosopher, born about 4 B.C. He obtained great influence by pretending to miraculous powers.
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[The King has spoken of demagogues. W e may set] aside the affrightment of this Goblin word. (Eikon., V , 1 1 2 ) O f course M i l t o n believed in the D e v i l and p r o b a b l y in the potency of e x o r c i s m :
129
[Censorship was designed to prevent evil. One book was licenced by four different censors] Sure they have a conceit, if he of the bottomlesse pit had not long since broke prison, that this quadruple exorcism would barre him down. (Area., I V , 304) I t is quite likely that he also b e l i e v e d in the D e v i l ' s ministers, witches and w i z a r d s , with their p o w e r s o v e r men and nat u r e . 1 3 0 C e r t a i n l y the S c r i p t u r e s g i v e w a r r a n t f o r such a bel i e f . 1 3 1 T h e W i t c h of E n d o r called up S a m u e l , a l t h o u g h , as M i l t o n points o u t , 1 3 2 she called up only an e m p t y s h a d e , not the m a n h i m s e l f : [The students whom Milton is addressing are compared to the dishes of a feast] these dishes, like those nocturnal feasts which are prepared by the devil for witches, are not seasoned with salt ; (Prolusion VI, X I I , 239) [When England broke away, Rome] like a witch, but with a contrary policy did not take something of theirs that she might still have power to bewitch them, but for the same intent left something of her own behind her; ( A pol., I I I , 356) Sin sits s u r r o u n d e d by her b r o o d of hell hounds Nor uglier follow the Night-Hag, when call'd In secret, riding through the Air she comes Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance 129 Scripture tells of Christ's and the Apostles' power of exorcism. A passage in Christian Doctrine seems to imply that Milton objected only to its misuse— to "superstitious and mercenary exorcism" ( X V I I , 1 3 3 ) . 130 Milton has little to say about wizards. He applies the term to the divines supporting the K i n g (Eikon., V , 7 3 ) , to an astrologer, and to the W i s e M e n who visited the infant Jesus. 131 A s they do f o r demonic possession: [ I f we attack bishops w e find that their power is f a l s e a n d ] "that they h a v e also this guift, like a certaine kinde of some that are possest, to h a v e their voice in their bellies, which being well drain'd and taken downe, their great Oracle, which is only there, will soone be dumbe" (/Ipol., I I I , 366). First Oef., V I I , 95.
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With Lapland Witches, while the labouring Moon Eclipses at thir charms. 1 3 i ( P . L . , I I , 6 1 ) One of the implements used by such evil creatures w a s a prospective glass, a m i r r o r f o r looking into the future : For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age, That far events full wisely could presage, And in times long and dark Prospective Glass Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass. (Vacation Exercise, I, 2 1 ) Who could be angry . . . but those that are guilty, with these freespoken, and plaine harted men that are . . . the prospective glasses of their Prince? ( A n i m I l l , 1 1 3 ) O t h e r agents of the D e v i l were the " F i e r y S p i r i t s , " the chief of w h o m w e r e Will-o'-the-Wisp and Jack-o'-the-Lanthorn : A s S a t a n leads E v e to the T r e e of K n o w l e d g e , Hope elevates, and joy Bright'ns his Crest, as when a wandring Fire, Compact of unctuous vapor, which the Night Condenses, and the cold invirons round, Kindl'd through agitation to a Flame, Which oft, they say, some evil Spirit attends Hovering and blazing with delusive Light, Misleads th' amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way T o Boggs and Mires, and oft through Pond or Poole, There swallow'd up and lost, from succour farr, So glister'd the dire Snake, and into fraud Led Eve. (P.L., II, 282-283) In this instance at any rate, it seems clear that M i l t o n is a sceptic, because of the care with which he first gives a scientific explanation of the phenomenon, and then p r e f a c e s the diabolic explanation with " t h e y s a y . " M o r e innocent w e r e fairies and elves, although they too did h a r m , such as substituting a changeling f o r a human in1,3 T h e N i g h t - H a g is p r o b a b l y H e c a t e , the queen of the witches. A l l the d e t a i l s e m b o d y t r a d i t i o n a l b e l i e f s : w i t c h e s r o d e t h r o u g h the a i r , killed i n f a n t s , d a n c e d , w e r e apt to l i v e in L a p l a n d , a n d c a u s e d eclipses.
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f a n t ; 1 3 4 like witches, they had p o w e r over the moon : in Pandaemonium the fallen angels reduced their immense size N o w less then smallest D w a r f s , in narrow room T h r o n g numberless like . . . Faerie Elves, W h o s e midnight Revels, by a Forrest side O r Fountain some belated Peasant sees, O r dreams he sees, while over-head the M o o n Sits Arbitress, and neerer to the Earth W h e e l s her pale course, 138 they on thir mirth and dance Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear; A t once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. (P.L., I I , 36)
In this instance also, we might say that the qualification " O r dreams he sees" shows M i l t o n ' s scepticism, were it not f o r the f a c t that in this passage he is imitating V e r g i l : 1 3 6 A e n e a s , in the Elysian Fields, sees or thinks he sees, D i d o like the m o o n through the clouds. A g a i n s t all this sorcery and w i t c h c r a f t were pitted charms and prayers : [ T h o s e who still credit w h a t the K i n g says are men] fatally stupifi'd and bewitch'd, into such a blinde and obstinate beleef. For whose cure it may be doubted, not whether any charm, though never so wisely murmur'd, but whether any prayer can be available. (EikonV, 72)
Certainly it cannot be said that M i l t o n makes his attitude t o w a r d these matters altogether clear. N o r is the question settled by other non-figurative passages, the most pertinent of which we may be justified in citing. T h e y give t w o f u r t h e r details about witches : But indeed how comes it that I have been so suddenly made a 'Father' > . . . [ H a v e various classical metamorphoses befallen me?] H a s some 1 nessalian witch smeared me with magic ointment? 137
(.Prolusion VI, XII, 241) i d f l ï b e l ! e V e d t0 b e f a l l e n I( W U l i r » n u , WMl,ton!c and evil spirits Simile·" ™LA, XLVI,»"Κ«!* »»"ρ"·, ™\ December, , 9 3 , , o 5 ) P '«Probably the moon was pale with alarm »· Aennd, VI, 45^455. α3τ T h e c o n t e x t h e f e j u g g e j t s
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Y o u [ M o r u s ] upbraid me however with the blindness of the cyclops; and to mend your impudence, you repeat the insult, at the very moment that you deny you have given it. T h e eyes which before were no eyes, are now removable and like those of a witch. (Def. of Him., I X , 1 2 3 - 1 2 5 )
T h e y make evident the fact that at least some of Milton's readers feared enchantment or a spell : [ M i l t o n ' s doctrine of divorce, although novel,] will deserve on all hands to be not sinisterly receiv'd in that it undertakes the cure of an inveterate disease crept into the best part of humane societie: and to doe this with no smarting corrosive but [gently] . . . and without inchantment if that be fear'd, or spell us'd, hath regard at once both to serious pitty, and upright honesty. ( D o c t . Div., I l l , 3 8 6 )
T h e y speak of witchery or sorcery may not be literal:
138
in a way that may or
what ever lust, or wine, or witchery, threate, or inticement, avarice or ambition hath joyn'd together . . . shall w e say this is Gods joyning? ( Tetra.,
IV, 15 O
[Some men are hopelessly servile] T h e rest, whom perhaps ignorance without malice, or some error, less then fatal, hath for the time misledd, on this side Sorcery or obduration, may find the grace and good guidance to bethink themselves, and recover. ( E i i o n V , 309)
T h e most natural interpretation of these passages, however, is that Milton ranks witchery with lust, wine, and the rest, as a real cause of marriage; and ranks sorcery with intractable hardheartedness as a real cause f o r refusing to recognize the truth. It is surely significant that his allusions to superstition, both figurative and non-figurative, taken as a whole do not reveal disbelief. T h a t being the case, the presumption is that Milton, at least partially, agreed with the vast majority of his contemporaries. It may be safely concluded that he probably believed when he found Scriptural authority f o r so doing but hesitated to believe without such authority. A l l the religious images, not merely those dealing with superstition, show the overwhelming authority of the Bible 138
Sorcerers bear the ark of Osiris (Λ'αΛ Ode, I. 220).
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over the thinking of M i l t o n ' s century. But in M i l t o n ' s attitude t o w a r d Scripture we find a conspicuous difference between him and the others of his contemporaries w h o also devoted themselves in one w a y or another to the cause o f religion. F o r them, the Bible w a s practically their only b o o k ; f o r him, the Bible w a s the book of paramount importance but by no means the only one. H i s love of literature took him f a r beyond the confines of religion, and the Bible is supplemented and enriched by the classics. 1 3 9 H e w r o t e as the last g r e a t examplar of the Renaissance tradition of classical culture, modified by the moral earnestness of that tradition in E n g land and by his own religious nature. T h e result is that we find a frequent juxtaposition or even fusion of pagan and Christian elements in his writing. M u c h of this lies outside the imagery, but an analysis of the opening lines of Comus may serve as sufficient illustration : " T h e speech is a sort of Euripidean prologue, spoken by a guardian angel, about angels and the souls of virtue's servants, w h o live in H e s p e r i a n gardens. T h e description of the gardens seems to unite traditional accounts of happy isles with the O l y m p u s of the Odyssey. ' A b o v e the smoke and stir' is a clear echo of H o r a c e ' s fumum et opes strepitumque Romae. A n d with 'sainted seats' we come to the white-robed elders seated round 1 4 0 T h e images show the same the throne in Revelation." phenomenon : E v e ' s plot of flowers was Spot more delicious then those Gardens feign'd O r of reviv'd Adonis, or renownd Alcinous, host of old Laertes Son, O r that, not Mystic, where the Sapient K i n g Held dalliance with his faire Egyptian Spouse ; 1 4 1 ( P . L . , I I , 276) 139
I n n o n - M i l t o n i c w r i t e r s 62 p e r c e n t o f t h e i m a g e s o f l e a r n i n g a r e r e l i g i o u s ,
12 p e r c e n t c l a s s i c ; i n M i l t o n , 38 p e r c e n t r e l i g i o u s , 4 1 p e r c e n t c l a s s i c . F o r o t h e r classic i m a g e s o f M i l t o n see C h a p t e r
1 : n o t e s 1 6 , 23, 6 1 , 64, 65, 9 1 , 92, 9 3 ;
C h a p t e r 2: n o t e 20. 140
Poetry 141
Douglas
Bush,
Mythology
and
the
Renaissance
Tradition
in
English
( M i n n e a p o l i s , 1 9 3 2 ) , p. 263. Adonis
revived
for
six
months
of
the
year,
bringing
the
fruits.
His
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[Satan] on the Flood, extended long and large L a y floating many a rood, in bulk as huge A s w h o m the Fables name of monstrous size, Titanian, or Earth-born, that W a r r ' d on Jove, Briareos or Typhott, whom the Den By ancient Tarsus held, or that Sea-beast Leviathan, which G o d of all his works Created hugest that swim th* Ocean stream. 1 4 2 ( P . L . , II, 1 5 ) H e r e t h e d i s t i n c t i o n is m a d e b e t w e e n f a b l e o r m y t h a n d t h e f a c t s o f S c r i p t u r e , b u t it is n o t c l e a r - c u t , s i n c e in e a c h c a s e t h e fable w a s r e g a r d e d as a m o r a l or C h r i s t i a n a l l e g o r y . 1 4 3
On
g a r d e n s a r e m e n t i o n e d by P l i n y . M i l t o n is p r o b a b l y h e r e t h i n k i n g of t h e e l a b o r a t e d e s c r i p t i o n of S p e n s e r , Faerie Queene, I I I , v i , » 9 - 5 1 . T h e g a r d e n of A l c i n o u s b l o o m e d a n d r i p e n e d p e r p e t u a l l y ( O d y s s e y , V I I , 1 2 5 - 1 2 8 ) . Solomon married Pharaoh's daughter (I Kings 3 : 1 ) . ' " T h e T i t a n s , sons of E a r t h ( G a e a ) a n d H e a v e n ( U r a n u s ) , w e r e r u l e d by the y o u n g e s t b r o t h e r C r o n u s or S a t u r n . L a t e r t h e y w e r e o v e r t h r o w n by S a t u r n ' s son Z e u s . B r i a r e o s w a s a l s o a son of E a r t h a n d H e a v e n but a G i a n t as distinct f r o m the T i t a n s . H e a n d his b r o t h e r s assisted Z e u s a g a i n s t the T i t a n s . T y p h o n w a s still a n o t h e r son of E a r t h , a m o n s t e r p a r t serpent. H e a s p i r e d to s o v e r e i g n t y but w a s v a n q u i s h e d by Z e u s . H e r e t r e a t e d , a s here, to A s i a M i n o r , or w a s b u r i e d u n d e r M t . A e t n a . It is i n t e r e s t i n g to find this s a m e g r o u p i n g of n a m e s a s e a r l y as Prolusion /; " H o w e v e r that m a y be, h a v e I a f f i r m e d t h a t N i g h t a r r a n g e d a contest w i t h D a y . . . W h a t a n u n d e r t a k i n g is t h i s ? D o the T i t a n s r e n e w the ancient w a r . . . H a s T y p h o e u s f o r c e d h i m s e l f out of the m a s s of M o u n t A e t n a . . . H a s B r i a r e u s . . . r e l e a s e d h i m s e l f f r o m the a d a m a n t i n e c h a i n s ? " ( X I I , 1 2 3 - 1 2 $ ) T h e r e is one m o r e r e f e r e n c e to the g i a n t s , in p a r t i c u l a r , p r o b a b l y , to the h u n d r e d - h a n d e d B r i a r e o s : [to f o r c e u p o n the people a set f o r m of p r a y e r ] " i s a t y r a n n y that w o u l d h a v e l o n g e r h a n d s t h e n those G i a n t s w h o t h r e a t n ' d b o n d a g e to H e a v ' n " (Eikon., V, 221). 1 4 3 A d o n i s , f o r the c l a s s i c a l w r i t e r s , r e p r e s e n t e d the r e v i v i n g p o w e r of the sun, and f o r Spenser, in a d d i t i o n , the i m m o r t a l i t y of l o v e . T h e R e n a i s s a n c e c o m m e n t a t o r s on O v i d ' s Metamorphoses interpreted T y p h o n ( a n d P h a e t o n ) as a symbol of p r i d e a n d a m b i t i o n . H i s fight a g a i n s t the g o d s w a s e q u a t e d w i t h the r e v o l t of S a t a n , a n d his b u r i a l u n d e r M t . A e t n a w i t h S a t a n in H e l l ( D . P. H a r d i n g , Milton and the Renaissance Ovid, U r b a n a , III., 1946, pp. 8 5 - 8 6 ) . H e n c e M i l t o n ' s c o m p a r i s o n of H e l l to the soil of A e t n a ( a n d the n e i g h b o r i n g p r o m o n t o r y of P e l o r u s ) a f t e r an e r u p t i o n : S a t a n rises f r o m the l a k e a n d on d r y L a n d H e lights, if it w e r e L a n d t h a t e v e r b u r n ' d W i t h solid, as the L a k e w i t h l i q u i d fire; A n d such a p p e a r ' d in hue, as w h e n the f o r c e Of subterranean wind transports a Hill T o r n f r o m Pelorus, or the s h a t t e r ' d side
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other occasions, even when there is no suggestion of allegory, the distinction is omitted. T h e vision of his wife, veiled and robed in white, suggests Alcestis brought back f r o m the g r a v e as well as a woman undergoing the Mosaic ceremony of purification a f t e r childbirth. Similarly, the corruption of the primitive Christianity embodied in the writings of the Church Fathers is like any one of several gigantic pagan images— the historical Colossus of Rhodes, 1 4 4 the l i t e r a r y Polyphemus contrasted to the pigmies—and a Biblical idol : the Bible is the p e r f e c t instrument of knowledge But hee that shall bind himselfe to make Antiquity his rule . . . [cannot have time to master it a l l ] . W h y doe wee therefore stand worshipping and admiring this unactive, and livelesse Colossus, that like a carved G y a n t terribly menacing to children, and weaklings lifts up his club, but strikes not, and is subject to the muting [dropping] of every Sparrow. If you let him rest upon his Basis, hee may perhaps delight the eyes of some w i t h his huge and mountainous Bulk, and the quaint w o r k manship of his massie limbs; but if yee goe about to take him in pieces, yee marre him ; 1 4 5 and if you thinke like Pigmees to turne and wind him whole as hee is, besides your vaine toile and sweat, he may chance to fall upon your owne heads. G o e therefore, and use all your A r t , apply your sledges, your levers, and your iron crows to heave and hale your mighty Polyphem of A n t i q u i t y to the delusion of Novices, and unexperienc't Christians. W e e shall adhere close to the Scriptures of G o d . . . and w i t h this weapon, without stepping a foot further, wee shall not doubt to batter, and throw down your Nebuchadnezzars Image and crumble it like the chaffe of the Summer threshing floores, as w e l l Of thundring JEtna, whose combustible A n d fewel'd entrais thence conceiving Fire, Sublim'd with Mineral fury, aid the Winds, A n d leave a singed bottom all involv'd With stench and smoak: Such resting found the sole Of unblest feet. (P.L., II, 16) 1 4 4 Described by Pliny, X X X I V , 7, 18. For another allusion see Prolusion I, XII, 139. 1 4 5 T h i s may also be a reminiscence of the contemporary London effigies G o g and M a g o g , carried in the processions of the Lord Mayor, which were the predecessors of the two giants erected in the Guildhall in 1708. Milton's descripton is so vivid as to suggest that he had seen them. T h e matter could be settled by finding an account of the earlier figures. Neither of the later ones carries a club.
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the gold of those Apostolick Successors that you boast of, as your Constantinian silver, 14 * together w i t h the iron, the brasse, and the clay of those muddy and strawy ages that follow. 1 4 7 ( Anim., I I I , 1 3 9 - 1 4 1 ) A g a i n , in a n e l a b o r a t e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , T r u t h s p e a k s n o t l i k e P r o t e u s but like the p r o p h e t M i c a i a h : F o r w h o knows not that T r u t h is strong next to the A l m i g h t y ; she needs no policies, nor stratagems, nor licencings to make her victorious, those are the shifts and the defences that error uses against her power : give her but room, & do not bind her when she sleeps, for then she speaks not true, as the old Proteus did, w h o spake oracles only when he was caught Si bound, but then rather she turns herself into all shapes, except her own, and perhaps tunes her voice according to the time, as Micaiah did before Ahab, untili she be adjur'd into her own likenes. 148 (Areo., I V , 348) I n t h e L a t i n p o e m s w e find a c o m p l e t e f u s i o n o f
Christian
t h o u g h t and p a g a n l a n g u a g e w h i c h g i v e s astonishing results. In h e a v e n the soul of D i o d a t i will consummate, eternally, immortal nuptials, where there is singing, where the lyre revels madly, mingled with choirs beatific, and festal orgies run riot, in bacchante fashion, with the thyrsus of Zion. (Damons Epitaph, I, 3 1 7 ) E l i j a h w a s c a u g h t up alive into h e a v e n ; t h e r e f o r e his head the merciless Parcae had no power to outrage. (Gunpowder Plot,
I, 225)
F r o m t h e s e p a s s a g e s i t is c l e a r t h a t M i l t o n ' s m i n d m o v e d as f r e e l y o v e r s e c u l a r as o v e r r e l i g i o u s l i t e r a t u r e a n d t h a t he u s e d t h i s f r e e d o m in a m a n n e r t h a t t o h i m d i d n o t s e e m a r t i s 1 1 8 T h e D o n a t i o n of C o n s t a n t i n e , 3 1 7 A.D., a fictitious edict g i v i n g to the P o p e the s o v e r e i g n t y of I t a l y a n d of the W e s t e r n E m p i r e . 147 Daniel 2: 31-35. 1 4 3 I K i n g s 22: 15—18 : " S o he c a m e to the k i n g . A n d the k i n g s a i d unto h i m , M i c a i a h , shall w e g o a g a i n s t R a m o t h - g i l e a d to battle, or shall w e f o r b e a r ? A n d he a n s w e r e d him, G o , a n d p r o s p e r : f o r the L o r d s h a l l d e l i v e r it into t h e h a n d of the king. A n d the k i n g s a i d unto him, H o w m a n y t i m e s shall I a d j u r e thee t h a t thou tell me n o t h i n g but t h a t w h i c h is t r u e in t h e n a m e of the L o r d ? A n d he said, I s a w a l l I s r a e l s c a t t e r e d u p o n the hills, a s s h e e p t h a t h a v e not a s h e p h e r d : and the L o r d s a i d , T h e s e h a v e no m a s t e r : let them r e t u r n e v e r y m a n to his house in p e a c e . A n d the k i n g of I s r a e l s a i d unto J e h o s h a p h a t , D i d I not tell thee that he w o u l d p r o p h e s y no g o o d c o n c e r n i n g me, but e v i l ? "
20Ó
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tically incongruous. H o w e v e r , he did feel more keenly than many of his Renaissance predecessors a dissonance between the falsity of the various stories, even those not obviously degrading, about the g o d s and the truth about G o d revealed by G o d himself. T h i s m o r a l disapproval w a s in conflict with his aesthetic enjoyment of the w a y in which the stories were told, by O v i d f o r instance. T h e result of this clash is that M i l ton's attitude t o w a r d myths is complex. 1 4 9 O n the one hand, myths are subordinated to the Bible. E a r l y as well as late he points out their untruth. H e begins in his Prolusions and Elegies and in letters of his college and H o r t o n days : [If night had married day she w o u l d ] have been burned to a crisp, just as once they say happened when Semele w a s consumed against his will by her lover Jupiter; (Prolusion I, X I I , 133) your temples were whiter than the plumes 'neath which, so story says, Jove h i d ; " 0 (Elegy II, I, 1 7 7 ) [ G i l l has sent one of his poems to M i l t o n ] that I should have been made by you the judge of so excellent a poem I no less glory in and regard as an honour than if the contending musical gods themselves had come to me for judgment, as they fable happened of old to T m o l u s , the popular god of the Lydian mountain ; 1 5 1 (Familiar Letters, X I I , 9) [ G o d ] has instilled into me, if into any one, a vehement love of the beautiful. N o t with so much labour, as the fables have it, is Ceres said to have sought her daughter Proserpina as it is my habit day and night 1 4 9 T h e m y t h o l o g y of M i l t o n ' s p o e t r y — b u t not his p r o s e — h a s been extens i v e l y studied, c h i e f l y by C . G . O s g o o d , The Classical Mythology of Milton's English Poems ( N e w Y o r k , 1900), and D o u g l a s B u s h , Mythology and the Renaissance Tradition in English Poetry. O s g o o d stresses M i l t o n ' s c o n t r a d i c t o r y attitude b u t m a k e s little a t t e m p t to e x p l a i n i t ; B u s h f e e l s that M i l t o n ' s attitude c h a n g e d as he g r e w o l d e r . In his more recent book, English Literature in the Earlier Seventeenth Century ( O x f o r d , 1 9 4 5 ) , pp. 386-387, B u s h h a s m o d i f i e d his position. It is not n e c e s s a r y to s u m m a r i z e his l a t e r point of v i e w , a s this study, in t h e f o l l o w i n g p a g e s , g i v e s d e t a i l e d s u p p o r t f o r it. 1 5 0 T h e l o v e of Z e u s in t h e f o r m of a s w a n f o r L e d a . 1 9 1 T m o l u s j u d g e d the m u s i c a l contest b e t w e e n A p o l l o and P a n . B e c a u s e of his d i s a g r e e m e n t w i t h the v e r d i c t in f a v o r of A p o l l o , M i d a s w a s g i v e n the e a r s of a n ass. In his sonnet to L a w e s , M i l t o n s p e a k s of s c a n n i n g w i t h M i d a s ' e a r s ; in the Second Defence he w o r k s a n a l l u s i o n to this contest a n d to the contest of the g o d d e s s e s j u d g e d by P a r i s into a n e l a b o r a t e c o m p l i m e n t to Q u e e n C h r i s tina of S w e d e n f o r h e r e x c e l l e n t j u d g e m e n t in p r e f e r r i n g M i l t o n to S a l m a s i u s
(Sec. Dcf.,
VIII, 193).
Books and Learning to seek for this idea of the beautiful, as for a certain image of supreme beauty, through all the forms and faces of things. 1 5 2 (Familiar Letters, X I I , 27)
A n d he continues in the pamphlets and letters of his middle period : [Politicians encourage evil] till having thus disfigur'd and made men beneath men, as Juno in the Fable of Iö, they deliver up the poor transformed heifer of the Commonwealth to be stung and vext w i t h the breese [gadfly], and goad of oppression under the custody of some Argus with a hundred eyes of jealousie ; ( Ref., I I I , 38) T h a t undeflour'd and unblemishable simplicity of the Gospell, not she her selfe, for that could never be, but a false-whited, a lawnie resemblance of her, like that aire-born Helena in the fables, made by the sorcery of Prélats, instead of calling her Disciples from the receit of custome, is now turn'd Publican her self. 1 5 3 (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 6 7 - 2 6 8 ) [ G o d gave man a helpmeet only in proportion tö his fallibility] els were his ordinance at least in vain, and w e for all his gift still empty handed. N a y such an unbounteous giver w e should make him, as in the fables Jupiter was to Ixion, giving him a cloud instead of Juno, giving him a monstrous issue by her, the breed of Centaures a neglected and unlov'd race, the fruits of a delusive mariage, and lastly giving him her with a damnation to that wheele in hell, 1 5 4 from a life thrown into the midst of temptations and disorders; i r ' 5 {Tetra., I V , 8 6 - 8 7 ) [Books] 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. 1 ™ ( Areo., I V , 298) 152 III T h i s m y t h m a d e a d e e p i m p r e s s i o n 011 h i m . H e uses it in Prolusion ( X I I , 167) as a symbol of t h e s e a r c h f o r t r u t h , a n d r e f e r s t o it a g a i n ( t h e s e a r c h t h a t "cost C e r e s all t h a t p a i n " ) in t h e f a m o u s p a s s a g e in Paradise Lost. See b e l o w , note 200. 153 A c c o r d i n g to the m y t h , m a d e use of by E u r i p i d e s a m o n g o t h e r s , P a r i s took w i t h h i m to T r o y o n l y a p h a n t o m ; t h e r e a l H e l e n w a s t r a n s p o r t e d to E g y p t w h e r e she stayed d u r i n g t h e T r o j a n W a r . M i l t o n m a k e s use of t h e o t h e r v e r s i o n ( t h a t the r e a l H e l e n w e n t to T r o y ) in a n o t h e r i m a g e . See b e l o w : " N o t t h a t Nepenthes," etc. F o r t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n see L u k e 5:27. 154 I x i o n ' s p u n i s h m e n t in hell w a s to be c h a i n e d to a p e r p e t u a l l y r e v o l v i n g wheel. 155 M i l t o n r e f e r s to t h e m y t h a g a i n in Paradise Regained, Bk. I V , 11. 318— 320. See b e l o w , note 228. 156 M i l t o n h a s t h r e e o t h e r i m a g e s b a s e d on t h e m y t h of t h e A r g o n a u t s : t h e student« c a m e p a s t the p o r t e r S p a r k s a s s a f e l y as J a s o n a t t a c k e d t h e fire-
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Books and Learning
But if you thinke . . . that I have given up my selfe to dreame away my yeares in the armes of studious retirement like Endymion with the Moone as the tale of Latmus goes, [you are in error]. (English Correspondence, X I I , 323)
T w o similar passages in the late poems have already been quoted : the comparison of Satan to the Titans, and of Eden to the garden of Adonis. 1 5 7 W e may content ourselves with two more: 188 Should a woman Descend with all her winning charms begirt T o enamour, as the Zone of Venus once Wrought that effect on Jove, so Fables tell [She would have no effect on Christ]. 1 5 0 ( P . R . , II, 4 3 1 )
Samson bearing the gates of Gaza was Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up Heav'n. 1 8 0 (S.A.,
I, 342)
T o this evidence it might be well to add that of various non-figurative passages from his prose in which the Bible is preferred to the classics in general, not merely classic myths: it is a "better and more ancient authority" than Plato; 1 8 1 its songs are superior to Pindar and Callimachus not only in "their divine argument alone, but in the very critical art of breathing oxen when he sowed the dragon's teeth (Prolusion VI, XII, 231) ; in his blindness Milton is as steadfast as if he had the keenness of sight of Lynceus (Familiar Letters, XII, 71); Satan, voyaging through chaos, was harder beset than when the Argo passed between the justling rocks. (P.L., Bk. II, 11. 1016-1018) 157 See above. 158 Other images are: the bower of Adam and Eve is like the bower "though but feigned" of Pan and Sylvanus (P.L., Bk. IV, 11. 705-707) ; the fruits of the tree of the garden of Eden were "Hesperian fables true" (P.L., Bk. IV, II. 249-251) ; Eve was more lovely than the "fairest goddess feigned" (P.L., Bk. V, 11. 380-382; "the Ladies of the Hesperides," together with nyraphs and naiades, were "feigned of old" (P.R., Bk. II, 11. 352-359). Deucalioo and Pyrrha are figures "In fables old" (P.L., Bk. XI, 1. 11). Non-figurative allusions a r e : P.L., Bk. I, 11. 507-510, 740-747; Bk. I I , 11. 627-628; Bk. V I I , 11. 30-39; Bk. V, II. 578-584; P.R., Bk. I I , II. 295-297; B k . I V , II. 286 ff. I n P.L., B k . I X ,
11. 30-31, Milton alludes to the "fabled knights In battles feigned," of the Arthurian legends. 159 Satan is, oddly, the speaker. 190 Atlas. Hercules temporarily relieved him. For a discussion of Hercules, see below. 1« R. Ch. Gov., Ill, 181-182.
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162
composition"; the "moral works of Plato, Xenophon, Cicero, Plutarch, Laertius, and those Locrian remnants . . . [are to be reduced] under the determinate sentence of David or Salomon, or the Evanges and Apostolic Scriptures . . . [Students] are to dive into the grounds of L a w , and legal Justice; deliver'd first, and with best warrant by Moses; and as f a r as humane prudence can be trusted in . . . Licurgus, Solon [and others]"; 1 8 3 Milton will prove his point by authorities "nor many Heathen, but Mosaical, Christian, Orthodoxal"; 184 the Bible speaks of schools of philosophy as "vain deceit." 1 6 5 There are also passages, in addition to the famous attack in Paradise Regained, in which Milton points out the immorality of some of the classics (or Arthurian legends). 1 6 8 It is thus obvious that throughout his life Milton consistently upheld the superiority of the Bible. The fact that he did not always stop to label the classics as false or untrustworthy does not affect Milton's position. Rather, it is surprising that he stops to make the distinction as often as he does. Yet in spite of this disparaging attitude, the love that Milton felt for classical literature is equally obvious. H e always responded to the beauty that was in many of the myths and even occasionally felt that they could be supposed to contain a disguised form of Christian truth. This habit of allegorizing the myths was so common in the Renaissance 1 0 7 that it is not remarkable that Milton was somewhat affected by it. In view of his intense love of the beautiful 188 he might well have been more influenced than he is, since allegory would have enabled him to eat his aesthetic cake and at the same time have his moral cake. Nevertheless, 162 103 R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 238. Educ., I V , 284-285. «« Tenure, V, 8. Hirelings, V I , 98. lce 2« The source has not been identified. It may be somewhere in the Alexander Romance.
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T h e remaining figures are all allusions to philosophers or scientists: Diodati is Theodotus; 329 a serious poet should live as sparingly as the Samian teacher, Pythagoras; we need the advice of someone as wise as Epimenides; 330 a priest has no greater sanctity than Apollonius Tyanaeus; 3 3 1 and Salmasius is (Milton is here ironical) both a Stoic editor of Epictitus, with the commentary of Simplicius, 332 and Archimedes. When we turn f r o m classical history to classical literature — t o the poets, playwrights, and philosophers—we find that there is little to be said. Obviously Milton was complete master of this field, and obviously the images embody only a small part of his knowledge. W e have already noted references to Homer, Sophocles, Euripides, Aesop, Vergil, Horace, Martial, Propertius, and Terence, 3 3 3 and to numerous Greek philosophers. 334 With these we may put other echoes of these authors : of Homer, in the spear of Achilles that wounds and heals, Ulysses steering between Scylla and Charybdis, Eurybates (the herald of Ulysses), the bow of Ulysses, and the Cyclops; of Euripides, in the frenzy of Pentheus in the Bacchae; of Aesop, in the Fable of the Cock; of Vergil, in the spirits waiting beside Lethe, the winds confined in the cave of Aeolus, the figures of the Britons woven into the tapestry; 335 of Horace, phrases from his Odes and Satires, and the monster composed of various animals from the Art of Poetry; of Terence, the slave Syrus from The Brothers and The Self-Tormentor. T h e r e are also images from other authors : Theocritus and the poets in the pastoral tradition ; Plato, the poets exiled from his city ; Aristophanes, the noise of the f r o g s ; Sophocles, the darkness of Oedepian night. These allusions are for the most part even now familiar, and in any case they need no comment. A few re329
330 A philosopher of Chios. A poet and prophet of Crete. A Pythagorean philosopher of Cappadocia. 832 333 A philosopher of Cilicia. See above. 331 333 See above. Gtorgict, III, » j .
331
242
Books and Learning
maining ones are m o r e obscure. T w o
r e f e r t o the p i g m i e s :
Satan's army w a s immense, For never since created man, M e t such imbodied force, as nam'd with these Could merit more then that small infantry W a r r ' d on by C r a n e s ; 3 3 8 ( P . L . , II, 2 8 - 2 9 ) [ A t Pandaemonium] they but now who seemd In bigness to surpass Earths Giant Sons N o w less then smallest D w a r f s , in narrow room T h r o n g numberless, like that Pigmean Race Beyond the Indian Mount. 3 3 7 ( P . L . , II, 3 6 ) one t o a G r e e k p r o v e r b t h a t M i l t o n e v i d e n t l y e x p e c t e d his a c a d e m i c a u d i e n c e t o r e c o g n i z e — i g n o r a n t f e l l o w s , once t h e y h a v e exhausted their stock of r e a d y m a d e phrases, are as speechless as the little Seriphian f r o g s — 3 3 8 ( P r o l u s i o n I, X I I ,
121)
one p r o b a b l y to P l a t o : not even that wisest Athenian . . . can I think more graced by the testimony of the Pythian himself, than me by her [Queen Christina's] opinion. 33 » ( S e c . D e f . , V I I I , 1 9 3 ) a n d o n e t o an a n e c d o t e a b o u t S o c r a t e s : W h a t do men see in the heart ? W e have need here of a Delian diver. 3 1 0 (Def. of Him., I X , 2 9 5 ) 336 Homer, Iliad, III, 1-5. The cranes fly bearing slaughter and fate to the pigmy men. Milton probably also had Pliny in mind. See next note. 337 Pliny and the early maps locate the pigmies near the source of the Ganges in the Himalayas, and Pliny describes their annual attack on the nests of the cranes. Pliny, VII, 2, 26. See also G. W. Whiting, Milton's Literary Milieu, p. 81 ; and M. Y . Hughes, Paradise Lost, p. 30. 338 Seriphian frogs: said of those who are speechless, because the frogs of Seriphus do not peep when brought to Scyrus. Gaisford, Paroemiographi Graeci, p. 25. See Aelian III, 37; Pliny, VIII, 227. Also referred to in Juvenal, Satires, VI, 564; X , 170, etc. Hughes, Milton Prose Selections, p. 2. *»· Probably Plato, Apology. 340 Diogenes Laertius, Socrates, 22 : "They relate that Euripides gave him the treatise of Heraclitus and asked his opinion upon it, and that his reply was, 'The part I understand is excellent, and so too, is, I dare say, the part I do not understand, but it needs a Delian diver to get to the bottom of it.' " See also his Heraclitus, 12: "The said work of Heraclitus was first brought into Greece by one Crates who further said it required a Delian diver not to be drowned in it."
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Y e t if these images are entirely inadequate to reveal the depth and solidity of his knowledge of the classics, they do give some idea of its extent and a vivid idea of how much he assumed that his readers knew. 3 4 1 T h i s same statement must be made concerning the only images that remain f o r consideration, those of history and literature other than classical. T h e historical figures include three f r o m the E a s t . T h e first is an ancient Byzantine custom 3 4 2 — i n speaking of marriage Christ did not mean to hale and dash together irreconcilable aversations of nature, nor to tie up a faultlesse person like a parricide, as it were into one sack with an enemy, to be his causelesse tormenter and executioner the length of a long life; {Tetra., IV, 185) the second relates to sixteenth century w a r f a r e between the T a r t a r s and Russians and between the Persians and the Turks : As when the Tartar from his Russian Foe By Astracan over the Snowie Plaines Retires, or Bactrian Sophi from the homes Of Turkish Crescent, leaves all waste beyond The Realm of Aladule, in his retreate T o Tauris or Casbeen. So these the late Heav'n-banisht Host, left desert utmost Hell Many a dark League. 3 " (P.L., II, 320) and the third relates to contemporary commerce of Persia and India : High on a Throne of Royal State, which far Outshon the wealth of Orrnus and of Ind, 341
If the allusions were not understood, the passages would in some eases, for example the description of Eden (see a b o v e ) , still h a v e great even if different literary v a l u e ; but in other cases, f o r example the Seriphian f r o g s or the Delian diver, their v a l u e would be entirely lost. 342 C f . C o w l e y , Of Solitude: For a man to be alone with his passions " ' T i s like the punishment of parricides among the Romans, to be sewn into a bag with an ape, a dog, and a serpent." 343 A s t r a k a n : on the Volga near the Caspian Sea ; A l a d u l e : part of A r m e n i a ; T a u r i s ( T a b r i z ) in north P e r s i a ; Casbeen ( K a z v i n ) north of T e h e r a n , P e r s i a . Milton's sources w e r e probably Hakluyt, I, 3 5 1 ; Purchas, Pilçritnnçt, p. 75 j Hexham's English edition ( 1 6 3 6 ) of Mercator's Atlas.
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244
O r where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showrs on her Kings Barbaric Pearl and Gold, Satan exalted s a t . 3 " ( P . L . , II, 3 8 ) O f t w o f r o m F r e n c h history, one is f r o m the M i d d l e A g e s — a scholarly bishop asserting his r i g h t s a g a i n s t the c r o w n , having predispos'd his conditions with the Pope . . . or some Pepin of his owne creating, it were . . . likely for him to aspire to the Monarchy among us; 3 4 5 {Ref., I I I , 5 8 - 5 9 ) and one, a l r e a d y n o t e d , 3 4 ® f r o m the M a s s a c r e of St. B a r t h o l o m e w . A number a r e f r o m E n g l i s h h i s t o r y r a n g i n g f r o m f a c t s that must h a v e been f a m i l i a r — t h e plight of
the
ancient
B r i t o n s d r i v e n back and f o r t h b y the Picts and the sea, the compilation o f the D o o m s d a y B o o k , the G u n p o w d e r the 1 6 2 7
Plot,
attack on the F r e n c h island of R e , and contem-
p o r a r y incidents of the C i v i l W a r less well k n o w n imposture of
347
— t h r o u g h the possibly
Perkin W a r b e c k , 3 4 8
to
two
decidedly minor episodes of the t w e l f t h and fifteenth centuries : H a l l w r o t e a n o n y m o u s l y , And finding him thus in disguise . . . it were no sinnc to serve him as Longchamp Bishop of Elie was serv'd in his disguise at D o v e r . 3 " (Apol., I l l , 3 1 0 ) W h e n in the reign of E d w a r d V I L o r d S u d l e y w a s . f a l s e l y accused of treason, 344 In 1622 the English helped the P e r s i a n s retake Ormus from the Portuguese. Situated at the mouth of the P e r s i a n g u l f , it w a s famous chiefly as a market f o r j e w e l s brought f r o m I n d i a . T h e first settlements of the E a s t India Company w e r e also making known to E n g l a n d the wealth of India. 345 In 7 5 1 , Pippin I I I w a s put on the throne of F r a n c e in place of Childeric I I I by Pope Z a c h a r i a s . 346 347 See above, note 244. See C h a p t e r 3. 348 Milton says that much of the work of Ignatius 19 spurious ; he is a Perkin W a r b e c k . T h i s w a s the impostor w h o g a v e himself out f o r R i c h a r d Duke of Y o r k , son of E d w a r d I V . He landed in C o r n w a l l in 14.97 proclaiming himself K i n g R i c h a r d I V . He w a s taken prisoner, confessed his imposture, and w a s hanged. 349 W i l l i a m Lungchamp, d. 1 1 9 7 , w a s Chancellor of E n g l a n d under R i c h a r d I. D u r i n g Richard's absence he became highly unpopular and w a s finally forced in 1 1 9 1 to surrender his offices, turn over all the castles in his custody, and leave E n g l a n d . He twice attempted to escape in disguise f r o m Dover but w a s caught and detained until all the caetles w e r e surrendered.
Books and Learning
245
no man could be found fitter then Bishop Latimer (like another Doctor Shaxv) to divulge in his Sermon the forged Accusations laid to his charge." 0 {Ref., I I I , 9 ) O f the literary
figures
of speech—our
final
category—a
f e w are f r o m the Italian Renaissance and the rest a r e f r o m English literature. W e c a c c i o ' s Decameron
351
h a v e a l r e a d y noted echoes of a n d P e t r a r c h ' s Sonnets·882
To
Bocthese
w e m u s t a d d an a n e c d o t e a b o u t T a s s o : A n d as Tasso gave to a Prince of Italy his chois whether he would command him to write of Godfreys expedition against the infidels, or Belisarius against the Gothes, or Charlemairt against the Lombards . . . it haply would be no rashnesse from an equal diligence and inclination to present the like offer in our own ancient stories ; s s s (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 3 7 ) and an e l a b o r a t e c o m p a r i s o n d e r i v e d f r o m B o i a r d o :
Satan
s h o w s C h r i s t the P a r t h i a n a r m i e s — Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp, W h e n Agrican with all his Northern powers Besieg'd Albracca, as Romances tell ; T h e City of Gallaphrone, from thence to win T h e fairest of her Sex Angelica His daughter, sought by many Prowest Knights, Both Paynim, and the Peers of Charlemane. Such and so numerous was thir Chivalrie. 3 5 4 ( P . R . , I I , 4 5 4 ) A considerably l a r g e r number of images are based on
Mil-
t o n ' s E n g l i s h p r e d e c e s s o r s , a m o n g w h o m t h e " s a g e a n d serio u s " S p e n s e r is b y f a r t h e m o s t c o n s p i c u o u s . O n e 350
allusion
Ralph Shaw, d. 1484, was chosen by the Protector (later Richard I I I ) to preach a sermon impugning the validity of Edward IV's marriage with Elizabeth Woodville, and asserting that Edward IV and his brother Clarence were bastards. 351 352 See above, note 249. See above, note 233. 353 The Prince of Italy was Cardinal Luigi D'Esté. Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered told of Godfrey of Boulogne's conquest of the Holy Land in the First Crusade. The alternative subjects were the reconquest of Italy from the Ostrogoths by Belisarius in 538-540, and Charlemagne's victory over the Lombards in northern Italy in 774. See Hughes, Milton Prose Selections, p. 105. 3r 4 ' Boiardo, Orlando Innamorato, I, x-xiv. Agrican, the King of Tartary, besieged Albracca, capital city of Gallaphrone, the King of Cathay. Roland and others were involved. See Hughes, Milton Paradise Regained, p. 503.
Books and Learning
24Ó
has already been noted
355
to the g r e a t d r a g o n slain b y the
R e d C r o s s k n i g h t at the conclusion of his quest, and
there
a r e s e v e n a d d i t i o n a l S p e n s e r i a n r e f e r e n c e s , five o f t h e m t o t h e Faerie
Queene.
T h e r e is t h e H o u s e o f P r i d e : t h e c a t c h -
w o r d o f t h e b i s h o p s is " N o b i s h o p , n o k i n g , " But what greater debasement can there be to Royall Dignity, whose towring, and stedfast heighth rests upon the unmovable foundations of Justice, and Heroick vertue, then to chaîne it in a dépendance of subsisting, or ruining to the painted Battlements, and gaudy rottennesse of Prelatrie, which want but one puffe of the Kings to blow them down like a past-bord House built of Court-Cards ; (RefIll, 47) K i n g C h a r l e s p r e v i o u s l y a d m i t t e d t h a t his act w a s w r o n g , Y e t heer like a rott'n building newly trimm'd over he represents it speciously and fraudulently to impose upon the simple Reader.35® (Eiton., V , 9 8 - 9 9 ) T h e r e is a l s o t h e s h i e l d o f P r i n c e A r t h u r : T h e b i s h o p s r e l y on the C h u r c h F a t h e r s and tradition; w h y , then, should not the r e f o r m e r s urge only the Gospel, and hold it ever in their [bishops'] faces like a mirror of Diamond, till it dazle, and pierce their misty ey balls? 357 (Ref., I I I , 35) and the stripping of Duessa : Accordingly, it will now be our task to return Error to its natal deformity, bare and stripped of its borrowed plumage. 358 (Prolusion V, X I I , 195) T a l u s , the assistant o f A r t e g a l l : K i n g C h a r l e s cites a numb e r o f a c t s o f his o p p o n e n t s , t h e p u r g e o f P a r l i a m e n t , e t c . — If there were a man of iron, such as Talus, by our Poet Spencer, is fain'd to be the page of Justice, who with his iron flaile could doe all this, and expeditiously . . . I say G o d send it don, whether by one Talus, or by a thousand. 359 ( E i k o n . , V , n o ) .ios g e e C h a p t e r 5, note 4. 3S"
356
Faerie
Queene,
I, i v , 4 - 5 .
Faerie Queene, I, v i i , 33-36. M i l t o n m a y also h a v e h a d in m i n d the v a r i ous p a s s a g e s noted as possible sources f o r Spenser, such as A r i o s t o , Orlando Furioso, II, 55-56. 358 Faerie Queene, I, v i i i , 45-50. P e r h a p s also A e s o p ' s f a b l e of the d a w . 359 Faerie Queene, V , passim.
Books and Learning
247
P a l i n o d e , a n d t h e F o x , b o t h in t h e M a y E c l o g u e o f Shepheardes
The
Calender:
[ T h e ministry is a high calling] Let the novice learne first to renounce the world, and so give himselfe to God, and not therefore give himselfe to God, that hee may close the better with the World, like that false Shepheard Palinode in the Eclogue of May, under whom the Poet lively personates our Prelates . . . Those our admired Spencer inveighs against, not without some presage of these reforming times.*®0 (Jnim., I l l , 165-166) [ A sermon written in medical terms is] a pretty fantastic dos of Divinity from a Pulpit-Mountibanck, not unlike the Fox, that turning Pedler, opend his pack of ware before the K i d . " 1 (Brief Notes, V I , 151 ) T h e s e p a s s a g e s a r e c l e a r evidence o f the k i n d o f a p p e a l t h a t S p e n s e r h a d f o r M i l t o n , since all the
figures,
incidents, o r
o b j e c t s h a v e t h e i r p l a c e s in the f a b r i c o f t h e m o r a l a l l e g o r y . D o u b t l e s s it is t h e l a c k o f this element in S h a k e s p e a r e t h a t accounts f o r t h e f a c t t h a t M i l t o n h a s , a t most, only
two
i m a g e s f r o m h i m . O n e m a y be an e c h o o f P r o s p e r o ' s soliloquy : at Christ's coming, the M o s a i c law fades away of it selfe, and passes into aire like a transitory vision.962 (R. Ch. Gov., I l l , 203) the o t h e r p r o b a b l y r e f e r s to Julius
Caesar,
but possibly t o
J o s e p h u s o r s o m e o t h e r u n d i s c o v e r e d source : the f a l l e n a n g e l s h o l d g a m e s a n d m i l i t a r y exercises A s when to warn proud Cities war appears Wag'd in the troubl'd Skie, and Armies rush T o Battel in the Clouds, before each Van Prick forth the Aerie Knights, and couch thir Spears T i l l thickest Legions close ; with feats of Arms From either end of Heav'n the welkin burns.363 ( P . L . , II, 57) 940 381
Milton then quotes the M a y Eclogue, II. 103-131. T h e Fable of the Goat, K i d , and Fox, Spenser's variation of Aesop.
3(2 r/n Temptit, IV, i, 148-156.
Just before Caesar's murder various prodigies were seen; among them Fierce w a r r i o r s fought upon the clouds In ranks and squadrons and right form of w a r , Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.
8,3
248
Books and Learning
H i s t w o figures f r o m the A r t h u r i a n legends illustrate both his lifelong interest in them and his attitude t o w a r d them. H i s u n d e r g r a d u a t e reference is p l a y f u l : to enter the hall the audience h a d passed the college porter, S p a r k s , nor did those valiant knights of King A r t h u r overpower and rout more easily the enchantments of a burning and blazing stronghold. 364 (Prolusion VI, X I I , 2 3 1 ) H i s late reference severely emphasizes the f a b u l o u s quality of the legends, like that of the classic m y t h s , 3 0 5 but b e t r a y s the potency of their c h a r m . A t the banquet offered C h r i s t by S a t a n w e r e attendants like n y m p h s A n d Ladies of th' Hesperides, that seem'd Fairer then feign'd of old, or fabl'd since Of Fairy Damsels met in Forest wide B y Knights of Logres, or of Lyones, Lancelot or Pelleas, or Pellenore. ( P . R . , I I , 4 3 7 ) T h e remaining allusions are all scattered a n d most
of
them are uncertain. T h e r e is B a r c l a y : [ I have been asked to do something foolish] as if there were not already quite enough fools, as if that famous ship of fools, celebrated not less than the Argo, had met with shipwreck. 389 (Prolusion VI, X I I , 2 0 5 ) T h e r e is L y l y , o r p e r h a p s c o n t e m p o r a r y p a m p h l e t e e r s : [ K i n g Charles] would work the people to a perswasion, that if he be miserable they cannot be happy. W h a t should hinder them? W e r e they all born T w i n s of Hippocrates with him and his fortune, one birth one burial?387 (Eikon., V , 254) T h e noise of battle hurtled in the air, Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan. Julius Caesar, I I , ii, 1 9 - 2 3 . T h i s parallel w a s noted by H a n f o r d , The Poems of John Milton, p. 2 1 4 . S i m i l a r prodigies were seen before the f a l l of Jerusalem, among them "chariots and troops of soldiers in their armour running about among the clouds" (Josephus, ÌVars, V I , ν ; see Hughes, Milton Paradise Lost, p. 58. 3β* T h i s reference has not been identified. It is probably in M a l o r y , Le Morte D'Arthur. 385 See above. 3ββ The Ship of Fools, 1508, a version of Brandt's Narrenschiff, 1494. 367 Euphues and his England (Works, ed. R . W . Bond, O x f o r d , 1902, II, 5, 7 7 ) . T h e classical source, which Milton may well h a v e had in mind, 19 unknown. Whiting (Milton's Literary Milieu, pp. 3 5 1 - 3 5 2 ) g i v e s references to
Books and Learning
249
T h e r e is probably Donne : [ T o G o d ] wisdom is as a high t o w r of pleasure, but to us a steep hill, and w e toyling ever about the bottom. 8 9 8 {Tetra., I V , 8 5 )
A n d finally, there is Quarles or some other emblem writer : I was all ear, A n d took in strains that might create a soul U n d e r the ribs of Death.3®9 (Cornus, I, 106)
I f to us these figures f r o m English literature seem somew h a t m e a g e r , if, f o r instance, we are surprised that Shakespeare is barely represented and that the other dramatists do not appear at all, we must remember—luckily f o r the last t i m e — t h a t the images do not tell the whole story. It may be safely assumed that M i l t o n had read the body o f literature produced in his country. But his roots went deeper into the past, into Rome and Greece, and above all into the Bible; and f r o m such roots, f a r more than most writers, he drew his chief nourishment. H e himself puts the case clearly : [ I began to feel] that by labour and intent study (which I take to be my portion in this l i f e ) joyn'd w i t h the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes, as they should not w i l l i n g l y let it die . . . [this is] a w o r k not to be rays'd f r o m the heat of youth . . . but by devout prayer to that eternali Spirit w h o can enrich w i t h all utterance and knowledge . . . to this must be added industrious and select reading, steddy observation, insight into all seemly and generous arts and affaires, till which in some measure be compast, at mine o w n peril and cost I refuse not to sustain this expectation f r o m as many as are not loath to hazard so much credulity upon the best pledges that I can give them. ( R . Ch. Gov., I l l , 2 3 6 - 2 4 1 ) Henry Parker, The Contra-Replicant, and William Beech, More Sulphure for Bating. For Milton's similes of twins, see Chapter 2, note $9. ses On a huge hill, Cragged and steep, Truth stands, and he that will Reach her, about must and about must go, And what the hill's suddenness resists, win so. Salire III, 79-82. 3ββ Allegorical pictures of skeletons were very familiar in books like Quarles's Emblemi, where (Book V, No. viii) Milton may have teen such a figure with a pendant poem morbidly preaching chastity" (Hughes, Milton The Minor Poems, p. J48).
250
Books and Learning
M i l t o n came within measurable distance of making himself master of the learning of his time. Yet this learning was not a weight but an enrichment. Reading gave him a knowledge of the past that led to an intelligent observation of the present; his devout religious spirit ripened his observation and quickened it into an insight into that eternal realm where past and present are one.
Index Action, tee Body and bodily movement A g r i c u l t u r a l images, 109 f. Alchemy, images, 175 f. A l l e g o r y , 209 ff. Alps, tee Mountain imagery Animadveriiont, 35, 231, 232; animal imagery, 144, 145; Biblical and religious imagery, 181, 182, 185, 187, 190, 197; bird imagery, 154, 157, 159; boyhood and study, 68; Christian and p a g a n elements, 205 ; clothes, 22 ; controversial images, 38, 223 ; cooking and food, jo, 52, 53; deceit, 16; fire images, 48; flowers, 108 ; food, 50, 52, 53 ; games and sports, 25 ; gardening, 104; literary images, 140, 247; London public life, 1 5 ; money images, 8n; music, 28; mythology, 220η ; nature, 94, 140; occupations, 13; religious imagery, 181, 182, 18s, 187, 190, 197; royalist ima£ery, 3, 4 ; sea images, 120; sports, 25; spring and spring flowers, 108; superstition, 199; touch images, 134; travel, 72; w a r images, 81, 82, 84, 8$ Animal imagery, 142-66 ; basis for derogatory comparison, 142; birds, 154-60; other categories, 160-66; literary flavor, 165, 166 Apology, 198n; alchemy, 176; animal imagery, 144, 145, 160; astrology, 175; Biblical and religious imagery, 182, 183», 184, 185, 190, 194; bodily posture and motion, 40; boyhood and study, 68 ; Circe myth, 2 1 1 ; clothes, 21, 22, 24; controversy, 38, 225, 234; cooking and
food, 50; f a r m i n g images, 110; gardening, 103; the heavens, i n , 1 1 7 ; historical images, 244; household imagery, 46*, 4 7 ; marriage and divorce, 62; music, 28; mythology, a n , 2 1 7 ; poetry, 34«; religion, tee preceding modifier Biblical and religious imagery ; ' on satire, 233; sea images, 120, 1 2 1 ; superstition, 198; travel, 7 1 ; w a r images, 81, 84, 89« Apparition, tee Superstition Arcadet, pageantry of the heavens, 114, 116 Areopagitica, 92; alchemy, 176; Biblical and religious imagery, 178, 179, 183», 184, 187, 194, 197; bird imagery, 159; bodily posture and motion, 40; the body, 43; books, 39, 169; boyhood and study, 67, 68; Christian and pagan elements, 205; disease, 60; drama, 33; family life, 65; f a r m i n g images, 110; Galileo, 101 ; head and face, 42 ; the heavens, i n ; historical image*, 237; humor, 2 3 m ; imports, 20; light image, 125 ; literary nature images, 139; medicine and disease, 60; motion, 40; mythology, 207; religion, see preceding modifier Biblical and religious i m a g e r y ; smell images, 127η; superstition, 197, 198; touch images, 134; trade, 19; twins, metaphor of, 69; w a r images, 791», 80, 82, 83, 86 Argument, tee Controversy Arithmetic, tee Mathematics Arthurian legends, 248 Articlet of Peace, images derived from controversy, 37; from my-
Index
252
Articles of Peace (Continued) thology, 217; f r o m occupations, 12η Art of Logic, Milton's attitude t o w a r d Cicero, 138 Arts, images derived f r o m , 26 ff. Astrology, imagery based on, 1 7 3 - 7 5 Astronomy, imagery based on, 1 7 1 - 7 3 At a Solemn Music, m o r a l a p p r o v a l of music, 27 Battle, see W a r images Beauty, images of, 2 1 7 - 2 0 Bee simile, 164 f. B e g g a r s , images of, 23η, 45, 57η Belly a n d other bodily members, fable of, 57 Biblical imagery, 9, 48η, 176-83, 18593, 198, 202; cooking and food, 50, 52; derogatory images, 147; education and schooling, 68» ; ensnarement of animals, 155; flight i m agery, 157; household activities, 61; m a r r i a g e a n d divorce, 62; music, 30η; robbery, 12η; royalist imagery, 6 ; travel, 73, 74, 76; w a r , 77, 78 ; see also Religious imagery Bird imagery, 130, 1 5 4 - 6 0 ; based on flight, 1 5 5 - 5 7 ; on folklore or books, »59 Bishop's foot, proverbial expression, 50 Blindness, images derived f r o m o r influenced by, 42, 55, 108, 124 ff., »J*. «33, 137 Body a n d bodily movement, images· of,
36-45
Books and learning, 9, 1 6 7 - 2 5 0 ; Biblical imagery, 176-83, 185-93 (See also main entry Biblical i m a g e r y ) ; Christian and pagan elements f u s e d , 201-9, Z18; classical literature, 209 ff., 2 4 1 - 4 3 ; controversial images, 222-35 ί historical images, 236-41, 243-45; non-classical literature, 245-50; personification of books, 38, 169; religious imagery, 183-85, 193-97; science, 1 7 0 - 7 6 ; superstition, 197-201 Boyhood and study, images dealing with, 67-Í9
Brahe, Tycho, 172 Brief Notes, bird imagery, 154; literary images, 247; royalist imagery, Î Brightness, see Visual images Brooke, Lord, see Greville, Robert Brown, Eleanor G., Milton's Blindness, 124 Building, images of, 11η Burton, Robert, The Anatomy of Melancholy, 14η Business practice and theory, 20 Catholic religious imagery, 194 Cebes, influence on Milton, 75 Chain of being, 97 f. Charles I , king of England, coronation o f , 13η; medical images in reference to, 56; object of many derogatory comparisons, 147, 190f.; see also Eikonoklastes Christ, royalist symbolism applied to God, 4 Christian Doctrine, 198»; f a r m i n g images, n o ; nature and philosophy of nature, 93, 97; travel images, 72 Church of England, attacks on, 181 ff. Cicero, Milton's attitude toward, 31, 237-40
Circe, myth of, 210 f. Circle, symbol of unity and eternity, 170 City life, images derived from, 10ff.; two aspects of, absent from images, 14R ; see also London Civil Power, m a r r i a g e and divorce, 63; superstition, 197 Civil war, see W a r images Classics, the, 202ft; classical literature, 2 0 9 8 . , 2 4 1 - 4 3 ; controversial images, 222ff.;flyand bee similes, 1 6 3 - 6 5 ; food and cooking, 5 3 ; history, 236-41 ; pagan and Christian elements, 156 f., 201-9, 2 1 8 ; slave images, 9 ; travel, 75; see also Mythology Clothes, attitude t o w a r d , 2 1 - 2 5 , i a ® B Coin images, 8η Colasterion, 10; animal imagery, 146, 147; bird imagery, 158; bodily
Index posture and motion, 4 0 ; controversial images, 226, 231; cooking and food, 49, 51; d e r o g a t o r y images, 192η; d r a m a , 33; f a r m i n g images, 109; medicine a n d disease, 56; occupations, 11; t r a d e , 18; w a r images, 83, 84 Color images, 126 f. Combat, see W a r images Comet, image involving a, 115 Commerce, images f r o m processes of, 19 Cornus, animal imagery, 14Î"> b ' r d imagery, 154. «55. ' 5 « ; C i r c e m y t h > 210 f . ; coin images, 8B; color image, 126; cooking image, 4 9 » ; d r a m a , 33; flowers, 105; goldsmith art, 36; the heavens, 112, 113, 114, 116; historical images, 237; light image, 126; literary images, 249; medicine and disease, 54»«; metal images, 17η; mythology, 210, 215η, 219; p a g a n a l , d C h r i s t i a n elements, 202; smell images, 128; sound references, 133; touch images, 134 Controversy, images, 37, 55 77. 78, 222-35; principles of, 233-35 Cooking and food, images derived f r o m , 49-53 Copernicus, theory of, 172 "Cromwell Our Chief of M e n , " 238 Curriculum, Milton's dislike of, at Cambridge, 142 "Cyriak, T h i s T h r e e Y e a r s D a y , " Milton's blindness, 240 Damon's Epitaph, Christian and pagan elements, 205; Milton's medical knowledge, 54 Dance, images derived f r o m , 34 Darkness, see Light and darkness " D a u g h t e r to T h a t Good E a r l , " historical imagery, 240 D a w n images, 116-18 Deceit, images suggestive of, 16 Defence of Himself, animal imagery, 148η, 161 ; Biblical images, 193; classical customs, 236; classical literature, 242 ; controversy, 37, 230, 233η; images derived f r o m occu-
253
pations, t i , 14; religious imagery, 196; royalist imagery, 4 ; w a r images, 77, 80, 86; witches, 201 Defences, Biblical images, 192; d r a m a , 32; historical images, 237; see also Defence of Himself; First Defence; Second Defence Demosthenes, 31 D e r o g a t o r y images, 4, 10, 17 ff., 142 ff., 181/1-93« passim Disease, see Medicine and disease Divorce, 61-63; see also Colasterion; Doctrine of Divorce; Tetrachordon Doctors, see Medicine and disease; Quack doctors Doctrine of Divorce, astrology, 174; astronomy, 172, 173; Biblical and religious imagery, 177, »78, 185, 195; boyhood and study, 67; deceit, image suggestive of, 16; f a m ily life, 65 ; fire images, 48 ; the hands, 43, 44; the heavens, i n ; historical images, 236; household images, 47; insect imagery, 162; medicine and disease, 58, 59; metal images, 17η; music, 27, 29; mythology, 219; occupations, 11; religious imagery, 177, 178, 185, 195; royalist imagery, 2 ; scrivener images, 7 ; sea images, 120 ; touch images, 134; travel images, 72, 73, 76 ; w a r images, 84, 86 ; witches, 201 Donne, John, imagery, 171 D r a m a , images derived from, 32-34; objects of satire, 15» Dress, see Clothes
East I n d i a n t r a d e , 20η Edgehill, battle of, 89 Education, see Books and l e a r n i n g ; Boyhood and study Education, agriculture, n o ; bird imagery, 158; gardening, 105, 109; importance of military knowledge, 87; mythology, 219; oratory, 31η; sea images, 119; travel images, 74; w a r images, 85
254
Index
Eikon Basilike, elaborate literary style, 22 Eikonoklaitei, 1981», 203η; animal imagery, 147, 160; Biblical a n d religious imagery, 179, 180, 183η, 184, i8s, 188, 191, 192, 19Í ; bird imagery, 158; bodily posture and motion, 41 ; boyhood a n d study, 67 ; Circe ' m y t h , 21 1 ; clothes, 22, 23 ; controversial images, 226, 227; cooking a n d food, $1, $2; deceit, image suggestive of, 16; d r a m a , 33; family life, middle class standards, 2 1 ; military activity, 88 ff.; nature philosophy, 93 ff.; nautical knowledge, 1 1 9 ; parenthood, 6367; portraits of, 24; pretense and sham scorned, 1 5 ; private l i f e in London, 46-70; product of the English Renaissance, 45 ; a proficient public speaker? 32; tee alto titles as Animadvertiont ; AreoPagitica; Colasterion, etc. Monarchy, royalist imagery, 2-6 Money images, 8n Moon, tee H e a v e n s Morus, controversial images based on, 56, 229-31; tee alto Defence of Himtelf; First Defence; Second Defence Motcovia, images of travel, 72 Mother, tee Parenthood Motion, images of, 36 Mountain imagery, 99-101 ; see alto Nature Muse, Milton's characterization of, 156 Music, images derived from, 26-31 Mythology, 206 ff. ; controversial images, 222 ff. ; descriptions of nature, 215-17; of persons and things, 217-20; images of horror and ugliness, 220-22 ; refinement of myths, 214; see alto Classics
Index Nativity Ode, see Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity Nature, blindness affects nature images, 114 ff.; classic allusions, 2151 7 ; d a w n images, 116-18; England's landscape, 103-5; an expression of God's will, 97 ; farming images, 109 f. ; flowers, 105-8 ; the heavens, 1 1 1 - 1 8 ; Italian setting, 100-3; literary nature images, 13741 ; philosophy of, 93-141 ; sea images, 118-24; smell, images of, 12730; sounds of, 130-34; touch images, 134-37; t w o aspects, 93, 95; visual images, 124-27 Nobility, imagery derived from, 1 Occupations, images derived from, 10 f. Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity, heavenly council metaphor, 1 ; the heavens, 1 1 7 ; Hercules myth, 212; light image, I 2 j ; M i l ton's muse, 156; music images, 30; nature and philosophy of nature, 95; sound images, 131 On the Death of a Fair Infant, flowers, 106; touch images, 134 On the Detraction, animal imagery, 143 animal On the Fifth of November, imagery, 162; insect imagery, 163 f. On the Music of the Spheres, moral approval of music, 26 On the Nevi Forcers of Conscience, images of writing, 168 Oratory, images derived from, 31 f., 45 Orthodox religious imagery, 193 f. Ovid, Renaissance commentators on Metamorphoses, 203η P a g a n imagery, 195-97, 2 0 2 ffPainting, images derived from, 34 Pamphlet w a r f a r e , 7 7 ; see also Controversy Paradise Lost, 208», 239; alchemy, 176; animal imagery, 149-53 passim, 161, 165; astrology, 173; bird imagery, 155, 160; Christian rather
257
than classic inspiration, 157; color image, 126; cosmology, 172, 173; drama, images derived from, 32 ; family life images, 64; flower image, 107; Galileo, reference, 102; gardening images, 109; geography, 224η; goldsmith art, images derived from, 36; hands, images inv o l v i n g the, 44; the heavens, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 1 1 8 ; Hercules myth, 213; historical imagery, 240, 243, 244; insect imagery, 163; iron foundry simile, 9n; Italian setting of images, 100-3; landscape, 103 ; light and darkness, 125; literary images, 138, 139, 242, 247 ; London city life, 1411 ; metal images, 1 7 η ; military influences, 89; music images, 28 f., 30; mythology, 21311, 214, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 222; nature and philosophy of nature, 94, 95, 96, 98, 99, 138, 139, 215, 216, 217; occupations, images derived from, 12, 13; oratory, images derived from, 3 1 ; Ovid's Metamorphoses, 204n; pagan and Christian elements, 202, 203; picture, image derived from, 34η; religious imagery, 194; royalist imagery, 6; sea images, 122, 123; smell, images of, 128, 129, 130; sound images, 131, 132, 133; sound references, non-figurative, 133; spring and spring flowers, 107; superstition, 199, 200; touch images, 134, 135, 137; travel images, 7 1 ; w a r images, 77n, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 86, 90; writing, images of, 168 Paradise Regained, animal imagery, 153, 162; astrology, 175; bird imagery, 158; classics attacked, 209; family life, images, 65; the heavens, 114, 117, 118; insect imagery, 164; literary images, 245, 248; music, images derived from, 30; mythology, 208, 212; nature and philosophy of nature, 95, 99; picture, image derived from, 35η; royalist imagery, 5; sea images,
258
Index
Paradise Regained (Continued) 1 2 j ; smell, images of, 128; sound references, non-figurative, 13); touch images, 13 s, 137; w a r image», 78 Parenthood, images of, (3-67; parem-child relationship, 66 Passion, The, Hercules myth, 212 Path or w a y , images that focus attention on, 73-76 Peddlers and hucksters, 14 Personifications, 38, 1 Í 9 * Philosophy of nature, 93 f . Physics, images baae93*97; ceremonies, 21; heretical, 194; pagan and Christian elements, 201-9, 218; tee also Biblical imagery Renaissance, humanistic ideal, 87; myths allegorized, 209 Roman history, 236-40 Royalist imagery, 2-6 Salmasius, references to, 56, 57«, 227· 29 ; tee alte Morus Salt, in the sense of wit, 52 Samten Agonittet, animal imagery, 149; Circe myth, 211; coin images, 8»; conception and birth, 69; controversy, 37; date of, 136η; family life images, 64; flowers, 106; insect imagery, 162; literary nature image, 139»; medicine and disease images, 54; music images, 28; mythology, 208, 211; sea images, 123; sound references, 133; touch images, 135, 136; tragedy's elevated position, 33η; travel images, 72; w a r images, 81, 8a Satan, animal imagery in references to, 150-53 Satire, moral aims of, 232; objects of
259
playwrights', 15η; satiric tradition, 233» Schooling, tee Boyhood and study Science imagery, 170-76 Scriptures, tee Biblical imagery Scrivener, possible reference* to profession of, 7-9 Sculpture, basis for images, 35 Sea images, 118-24 Second Defence, 92 ; animal imagery, 149 ; Biblical and religious imagery, 186, 194, 196; books personified, 39; boyhood and study, 67; Cicero's influence, 239; controversial images, 229, 231, 234, 235»; cooking and food images, 51 ; literary images, 140, 242; London public life, 15; Milton's military activity, 88; mythology, 206«; poetry, images drawn from, 34»; religious imagery, 186, 194, 196; royalist imagery, 6 ; sham and pretense scorned, 15; trade, 18; war images, 86 Sexual images, 43« Shakespeare, William, animal imagery, 161, 162; bird imagery, 154; clothing imagery, 23»; cooking, 49«; face image, 4a; fire image, 47; images derived from, 126, 247; Macbeth, 101»; nature imagery, 108; parenthood, 66; speech, 41; visual image·, 134» Shopkeeper, attitude toward small, 17-21 Sight, loss of, tee Blindness Similes, Milton's, 150η Skin disease, images of, 23», 57 Sky, tee Heavens Slave images, 9» Smectymnuus, attitude toward clothes, 22η Smell, images of, 127-30 Snaring, bird imagery, 154 f. Social order, images on levels below royalty, 6 ff. ; lower and middle classes, 9 ff. ; royalist imagery, 2-6 ; social influences, 76 Solemn Mutick, images derived from music, 29», 61
2Ó0
Index
Song of birds, see Sound images Sorcery, see Superstition Sound images, 130-34 Spaeth, S. G., Milton's Knowledge of Music, 29η, 30η Speech, images based on, 41 Spenser, Edmund, images derived from, 245-47; images of, $7 Sphinx, riddle of the, 212η Sports, see Games and sports Spring and spring flowers, 105-8 Astrology; Stars, see Astronomy; Heavens Stone, images derived from, 16η Study, see Boyhood and study Sun, see Heavens Superstition, imagery derived from, 197-201 T a s t e , images of, 12411 T a v e r n life, almost complete absence of, a j T e a c h i n g , images of, 7 Tenure of Kings, Biblical and religious imagery, 184, 189, 19$; f a m ily life images,