MILTON'S LITERARY MUSINGS II "These abilities wheresoever they may be found, are the inspired gift of God rarely bestowed, but yet to some (though most abuse) in every nation; and are of power, beside the office of a pulpit, to imbreed and cherish in a great people the seeds of virtue and public civility, to allay the perturbations of the mind, and set the affections in right time; to celebrate in glorious and lofty hymns the throne and equipage of God's Almightiness, and what He works and what He suffers to be wrought with high Providence in His church; to sing... the deeds and triumphs of just and pious nations doing valiantly through faith against the enemies of Christ. Lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sublime, in virtue amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admiration in all the changes of that which is called fortune from without, or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from within, all these things with a solid and tractable smoothness to paint out and describe." Here throughout, but especially and most remarkably in the passages put in italics, we find Nova Solyma described and compressed as in a nutshell. The chief beauties and characteristics of our present anonymous work are here severally named in 1641 as if they were present to the great poet's mind, and, as the reader knows, our contention is that they were then lying carefully preserved, though unrevised, among the poet's papers. Here in Nova Solyma are the very themes, the same high tone of literature that Milton had proposed to his mind "in the spacious circuits of her musing." Here, at the end of our book, is the Canticum Sacrum, the "divine pastoral drama in the Song of Solomon," the "two persons and a double chorus." Here are the lyric songs from "the law and prophets," Abraham's meditation on Mount Moriah, Cain's lamentation for Abel, David's lament for Saul and Jonathan, and many a noble ode and hymn from the Psalms and short epics from Job. Here, too, is the Armada epic of a just and pious nation triumphing valiantly against its enemies; and here, too, are the glorious and lofty hymns with which Joseph (¿.e. Milton) celebrates the Almightiness of God, His throne, His equipage, His Majesty. And finally what words can more aptly and truly describe the various "adventures and changes of fortune," the self-communings and heart-burnings, the religious terrors of despair, the flux and reflux of mental anguish laid bare to us in so many pages of Nova Solyma, what words, I say, could paint all this better than those last italicised words of Milton above? The force of this argument cannot naturally be fully seen until the book has been read through. But after all it amounts to no more than this-viz. that the general character and contents of Nova Solyma, when compared with the great literary projects that were so clearly and constantly in Milton's mind both in 1641 and earlier, as to Christian Lyrics, Christian Dramas, and Christian short Epics of a hightoned Biblical character, present a most remarkable and consistent similarity. It is a strong piece of general internal evidence, but nothing more, and I have only dwelt on it here because I was introducing the reader to the kind of book he was about to enter upon. I began by classing the book as a "didactic Romance," but it is always best, if possible, to let a book speak for itself. The second title page of 1649 adds to the original name Nova Solyma the words sive Institutio Christiani-i.e. "or the Institution of a Christian"; or perhaps more clearly, the laws and precepts that concern a Christian,1 1 Xenophon's Cyropaedia was always entitled Institutio Cyri, or the Institution of Cyrus, at that time. But Institutio is a very Protean word, and changes through several shades of meaning according to the context, and the same holds good of its English equivalents, Institution or Institute. All these words were used by Milton in his published works, but not as we use them. He speaks of the "Institution of Physic" in his oft-quoted "Tractate"; he means the laws and precepts concerning it. In his Defensio Secunda, speaking of this same 'Tractate," he says: Institutionem deinde liberorum uno opusculo brevius quidem tractabam, i.e., "After that I wrote a somewhat brief tractate on the education of children." In 1646, when he sent a bound volume of his published writings to Rouse, the Bodley librarian, it contained a list of the pieces in Milton's own handwriting; and the "Tractate" we are speaking of was described as De Edu THE LANGUAGE 13 the education of a Christian. And no doubt the general idea running through the whole book might be described as the Theory and Practice of a Liberal Education founded on religious principles, and the author says as much at p. 164. But if Nova Solyma had been as strictly confined to this subject, as Milton's first tractate on Education was, how much should we have lost? Nova Solyma, or the Education of a Christian Man, contains much more than such a title promises. My preface has already hinted at that, and I will leave my readers the pleasure of finding out the gems for themselves, and go on to speak of other characteristic features: its language and style, and place in literature. Next, then, the language and style of composition. The language was Latin. Scholars wrote their works in Latin almost universally in those days in order to obtain a hearing from the wide-spread Republic of Letters. Novo Solyma, we contend, was Milton's first projected magnum opus for the learned world, but he held it back. Good Latin was a necessity if an author wished to make his works current among a fit audience. The great Francis Bacon showed this plainly in 1605 when he published in English his two books on The Advancement of Learning, for three years later he wrote to Dr. Playfere, a Cambridge Professor and Latinist of renown, asking him to translate the work into Latin for him, giving as chief reason "the privateness of the language wherein it is catione Ingenuorum Epistola, clearly showing the Miltonic interpretation of Institutio, and showing also what many writers on Milton have wasted pages in proving, that the "Tractate" was only concerned with young men of good family and position. Milton uses "Institute" as well: To return to our own institute," he says in his "Tractate," meaning his literary attempt then before their eyes. And in exactly a similar way we read in the Autocriticon at the end of Nova Solyma, "In tam novo et audaculo instituto," i.e., "In such a new and daring attempt as this is." Such undesigned parallelisms are suggestive at least. But there is evidence still stronger. Milton's own words about an ideal Republic are: "A Commonwealth ought to be as one huge Christian personage, one mighty growth and stature of an honest man." Quoted by G. H. Pike, Cromwell and his Times, 1899, p. 239. written excluding so many readers." Petrarch and Dante. made several literary efforts in Latin, although they were almost the first to bring the vernacular into vogue in Italy; indeed, it has been said that Dante had almost made up his mind to write his great Epic in that universal language, which would surely have been a grievous loss to modern literature. But it is to be remembered that he who wrote then in Latin, wrote urbi et orbi, for scholars throughout the world; and not till nearly the end of the seventeenth century did authors begin to see, that wide as the reach of the Latin language might extend, it did not go very deep down to the lower strata, and did not reach in fact the vast and increasing majority of the reading middle classes of all countries. It was felt to be somewhat of a mandarin language, not understood by, or of much use to the many millions of all classes who had not received an academical diploma. Moreover, the reformers and Puritans gradually condemned its extensive use it was not a lay language; it was the language of Babylon more than of Zion, and the word of God and all good knowledge they felt should be open to the people. But the author of Nova Solyma, though a decided Puritan, was clearly an academic with a well-filled wallet of the finest literary tools, and the prejudice I have mentioned had not yet arisen very strongly. And why should tools which had cost so much time and trouble to get together be rendered almost unavailing? So thought many elegant Latinists just then, and no doubt Milton amongst others. In the period 1600-1650 a new departure in Latin literature came into fashion, which deserves a little attention, inasmuch as our present Romance shows many marked similarities to the newly arisen school of composition, and our author had evidently read some of the best examples of their kind, had been attracted by their novel charm, and had imitated them in his magnum opus to a considerable extent. These compositions were written in elaborate Latin prose, mingled with verse of various metres. The model of Latinity chosen was generally Petronius or Apuleius rather than Cicero or A NEW LATIN MODEL 15 Livy. Much as they differed, there was always in them some feature either of the Romance-the Romance of Petronius and the Milesian tales for choice-or the Extravaganza or Moral Satire. The name by which they were presented to the public were Somnium, Ludus, Satyricon, Satyra, and such like. They were generally written with a view to show their author's literary abilities and good Latinity; styli aut ingenii causa, as Puteanus says in the beginning of his Comus, which was a Somnium and one of the best of them, well known to Milton without doubt, and borrowed from, in his inimitable and improving manner, both in his own Comus and in Nova Solyma, as shall appear in the notes to the Latin poems. In point of fact, scholars who did not wish their light hidden under a bushel, chose such a candlestick for it advisedly. Some few were much admired, the Argenis and the Euphormionis Satyricon of the Gallo-Scot, John Barclay, written when Milton Milton was a boy and frequently reprinted and translated, coming perhaps first in public favour, and the Comus of Puteanus (1st ed., 1608), of which there is a very rare translation and also an Oxford edition of 1634, being a good second favourite. All these stars of the literary firmament have apparently set to rise no more. Even Argenis, though it has been translated into eight or nine languages, including Hungarian and Icelandic, and though it has been called the indispensable link in the chain which unites classical with modern fiction, seems clean gone for ever. Strange to say, this absolutely defunct book has equally pleased men of action and men of letters. It won the admiration of Richelieu and Leibnitz, and received the enthusiastic verdict of Coleridge, who pronounced the style concise as Tacitus, and perspicuous as Livy! But this is really too much praise, and excites ridicule rather than agreement, for whatever value or charm Argenis may possess, it certainly has not the two qualities that Coleridge gives it. I believe the style adopted was that of Petronius, elevated by study of more dignified models, and not free from Gallicisms here and there. But the |