ation of Adam and Eve, he composed these

lines:

Soon his heart relented

Towards her his life so late, and sole delight,

Now at his feet submissive in distress.

But the thought is more ingenious than solid; for Milton never shewed much kindness to his family; and on the present occasion, though the reconciliation was brought about by the submission of his wife, and the good offices of their friends, there was little of tenderness on his part. It has been supposed that his wife quitted him from a dislike of his political principles; but this is highly improbable, for there are few women so romantic as to sacrifice love and interest to speculative opinions; besides, it is not to be supposed that a man of Milton's disposition would keep his real sentiments concealed about public affairs, at the time of his courtship. From all that appears in Milton's character, and his nephew's narrative, this was a marriage made up in haste, and the honey-moon soon terminated in disgust, produced by the forbidding austerity of the husband's manners.

When Milton found that his wife staid longer than the time appointed, he sent her a letter, but it is remarkable enough, that we have no account of any preliminary correspondence. No answer being given, he sent her another mandate to re

turn, which was also disobeyed on which this husband of a month, instead of going himself, as a man who really loved his wife would have done, sent a messenger to bring her away. Upon her refusal to obey this injunction also, our Petruchio made no farther advances, but immediately set himself to examine the Bible, whether he could not discover scriptural authorities for putting away his wife for other causes besides fornicationHe that has formed an inclination and resolution will not be long in finding reasons and proofs for indulging his purpose. Error once imbibed through a spirit of resentment at real or supposed injuries, will readily be furnished with arguments to give it a colour of defence. Such was the occasion, and such were the grounds on which Milton wrote and published his celebrated treatises "On the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce," in which, according to his eulogist, he has made "out a strong case," but which every dispassionate reader will pronounce to be an apology for domestic tyranny and licentiousness of manners.

But though we condemn the motives which led Milton to write these books, it must be mentioned to his praise, that when the storm of rebellion had overwhelmed the fortune of his wife's family, he gave them an asylum in his house, where they remained till their affairs were accommodated through Milton's interest.

In 1647, he removed to a smaller habitation in High Holborn, overlooking Lincoln's Inn Fields,

6

where

where he wrote some political pieces, and planned his History of England, which he never finished: for he had proceeded no farther than the conquest, when he was appointed Latin Secretary to the Council of State. At the command of those regicides, he published his Iconoclastes, [the image breaker] against the celebrated piece entitled Είκων Βασιλικη [the royal image] which was printed under the name of the Royal Martyr, and made so great an impression upon the minds of the people, that his murderers thought it necessary to engage the pen of Milton to reply to it. Under the same authority and by their command, he wrote his famous book, Pro Populo Anglicano Defensio: the occasion of which was this; Salmasius, a learned professor at Leyden, had published, in 1649, a volume with this title "Defensio Regia pro Carolo Primo ad Carolum Secundum." For this work Charles the Second is said to have rewarded the author with a hundred Jacobuses. Though the book was not altogether equal to the subject; the ruling faction in England deemed a reply necessary., Milton was accordingly pitched upon, and the sum of one thousand pounds was the price of his labour, which was dearly earned by the loss of his eyesight.

In this performance he contrived to defend the prevalent sect of Independents or, Brownists; and by a gross falsehood alleged that Luther, Calvin,

P 3

Calvin, Bucer, and Zuinglius, were of the same opinion.

The last biographer of Milton is quite in a rage at this accusation, which was thrown out by Bishop Watson, in his 30th of January Sermon, 1795. This sagacious biographer repels the charge by a Welch argument, asserting that Milton is only speaking of contending for liberty against the tyranny of a single person. But what was the matter in dispute? Salmasius had accused the English with destroying their national church, and laying religion prostrate, by the adoption of the levelling tenets of the Brownists. Milton's reply is a miserable subterfuge, founded upon a wilful falsehood. He pretends to vindicate the faction to which he belonged, upon the same principles which induced the reformers to separate from the Church of Rome; and by an artful manoeuvre worthy of his cause, though not of the man, he puts rebellion against the king, and the reformation from popery upon the same footing.

Of the two books, the famous Hobbes made this remark, that "he knew not whose language was best, or whose arguments were worst."

In abuse, Milton has clearly the advantage over his adversary, whom he treats with unmanly ridicule, because he was, unfortunately, married to a scold. Alluding to this, and to his being a Frenchman, he says, "Tu es Gallus, & ut aiunt, nimi

um

um Gallinaceus." Thou art a cock, and, as they say, confoundedly hen-pecked. A wretched pun which shews more malignity than wit.*

He also accuses Salmasius of venality, and insultingly says, that he had written his book to satisfy his hunger; forgetting belike his own price of one thousand pounds, and the golden chain of salary by which he was tied to bark in the defence of a gang of ruffians.

*In the Sorberiana is the following anecdote of this great

man:

"When I was at Leyden studying physic, I frequently had conversation with Salmasius. I used continually on a Sunday afternoon to visit him, where I found people of very high rank. Salmasius used to sit on one side of the fire place, and his wife on the other; and the company round them. She was a woman of great sense and reading; and continually joined in the discourse; and no one of the company escaped her raillery. Salmasius said little, and without effort; but when in good humour, he was very talkative and erudite. I remember carrying with me there a French gentleman who had never seen him, and we agreed to talk of hunting and coursing. We opened the subject; and my friend, who was an old sportsman, declared he was surprised at the accurate and wide knowledge of Salmasius on that topic. For he talked not of field sports, (says my friend,) from books alone, but he shewed an acquaintance with them that could only be obtained by traversing the whole country and killing a thousand hares.'"

In the life of Milton, prefixed to the last edition of his prose works, the writer not only delights to trample, with a savage ferocity on the grave of Salmasius, but he vents the most scandalous reproaches on the character of his wife.