withdraw for a while from the bustle of the city. I will go to your Stoa in Suffolk1, as to the celebrated porch of Zeno, or Cicero's Tusculan villa, where you, in moderate circumstances, but with a truly royal mind, reign peacefully over your little field, like a Serranus or Curius2: regardless of fortune, triumphing over wealth, ambition, pomp, luxury, and whatever the vulgar admire and wonder at. As you deprecate delay, I hope you will in turn pardon my haste, for as I postponed this letter to the last moment, I chose to write a short one, and that in an unpolished style, rather than none. Farewell, respected sir. 1 On his return from Hamburg, Young settled in Suffolk, where he was pastor for thirty years, and died. 2 Te sulco, Serrane, serentem' (Eneid, vi. 844.) illustrates this cognomen of Cincinnatus. Curius is the consul whom the Samnite ambassadors found boiling his dinner. They are both commemorated in Paradise Regained, Book ii. 'Who could do mighty things, and could contemn Riches, though offered from the hand of kings.' V. TO ALEXANDER GILL. [In 1632, Milton left Cambridge with the degree of Master of Arts, and resided in the country with his father until he set out on his travels in 1638. During that space he wrote most of his popular minor poems.] FROM MY SUBURBAN RETREAT, Had you made me a present of gold, or embossed vases, or any thing of that kind which catches the admiration of mortals, it would certainly be disgraceful, if I did not make as handsome a return as my abilities could supply. But when you send me such delightful hendecasyllables as you did the day before yesterday, in proportion as the value of the gift exceeds that of gold, my solicitude is increased to find an equivalent for such a favour. Some of my matters of the same kind are at hand, but I would by no means put them on an equality with yours. I send you, therefore, what is evidently not my own, but a psalm of the truly divine poet, which one morning last week, before sun-rise and almost in bed, without premeditation, but under a sudden impulse, I turned into Greek heroics1. I avail myself of his assistance, who excels you in his subject, as much as you do me in skill, that I might contribute something to balance your gift. If you see any thing in it that does not come up to what you would expect from me, remember that this is my first and only attempt in Greek since I left your school; and you know I am more willingly familiar with Latin and English. Whoever in this age expends his study and labour in writing Greek, is in danger of singing to deaf ears. Farewell. You may look for me (God willing) in London on Monday, among the booksellers. In the mean time, if you can take advantage of your friendship with the Doctor, who is the president of the college for this year, to promote my business, I beg you will see him respecting it as soon as possible. Again, farewell. 1 The 114th Psalm: published with his Latin and Italian poems. VI. TO CHARLES DIODATI. [Diodati was a school-fellow of Milton at St Paul's. He derived his Italian name from his father, who was of that country, but married in England, where this son was born and educated a physician. He was distinguished for his virtues and scholarship, and seems, unlike his correspondent, to have been fond of Greek, as he wrote two letters to him in that language. Apparently in courtesy to his friend's taste, all the phrases quoted in the two following letters are from Pindar, and other Greek authors. T. Warton, who has made copious hypercritical annotations on Milton's minor poems, suggests that Diodati is the 'certain shepherd lad' in Comus, whom the spirit describes as 'Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled who taught her the magical powers of hæmony.' There are two elegies in the collection addressed to him: the first written about 1627, in which occurs the allusion to Milton's leaving Cambridge, which has given rise to so much idle dispute respecting its cause. His own language indicates that that act was voluntary, and not compulsory, as it is generally represented; being determined no longer to endure the threats of a hard master, and other things to which my temper cannot submit.' Which expression has been amplified by Dr Johnson and others, into a confession that he received corporal punishment. The second elegy (1629) was in reply to some verses, in which Diodati had described the festivities of a Christmas spent in the country, and offered the indulgence into which the occasion betrayed him, as an apology for the poverty of his poem, which Milton very happily turns against him, by enumerating the classical precedents in favour of the inspiration of wine and mirth, taking occasion to explode some innocent flattery-an opportunity which he was never disposed to pretermit::—ex. gr. Favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. 'Scilicet haud mirum, tam dulcia carmina per te, Numine composito, tres peperisse Deos.'-34 to 36. Diodati died in 1638, whilst Milton was on the continent, an event which really afflicted him. On his return, he wrote a pastoral elegy to his memory, under the title of Epitaphium Damonis,' in which Milton, personified by Thyrsis, bewails the loss of his companion. Almost all his Latin poems are excellent: Cowper thought this epitaph equal to any of the Bucolics; Dr Johnson affirms, on the other hand, that it is written with the common, but childish, imitation of pastoral life.'] |