meditate a flight; but my Pegasus rises as yet on very tender pinions. Let us be humbly wise !*”

* De cætero quidem quid de me statuerit Deus nescio; illud certe, δεινόν μοι ερωτα, ειπες τω αλλω, το καλό ενεςαξε : nec tanto Ceres labore, ut in fabulis est, liberam fertur quæsivisse filiam, quanto ego hanc тe xaλe idev veluti pulcherrimam quandam imaginem, per omnes rerum formas et facies; (πολλαι γας μορφαί των Δαιμονιων) dies noctesque indagare soleo, et quasi certis quibusdam vestigiis ducentem sector. Unde fit, ut qui, spretis, quæ vulgus pravâ rerum æstimatione opinatur, id sentire, et loqui et esse audet, quod summa per omne ævum sapientia optimum esse docuit, illi me protinus, sicubi reperiam, necessitate quadam adjungam. Quod si ego sive naturâ, sive meo fato ita sum comparatus, ut nullâ contentione, et laboribus meis ad tale decus et fastigium laudis ipse valeam emergere, tamen quo minus qui cam gloriam assecuti sunt, aut eo feliciter aspirant, illos sem per colam et suspiciam, nec dii puto nec homines prohibuerint. Multa solicite quæris, etiam quid cogitem. Audi, Theodate, verum in aurem ut ne rubeam, et sinito paulisper apud te grandia loquar: quid cogitem quæris? Ita me bonus deus, immortalitatem quid agam vero? lagopuw, et volare meditor: sed tenellis admodum adhuc pennis evehit se noster Pegasus: humile sapiamus.

This very interesting epistle, in which Milton pours forth his heart to the favorite friend of his youth, may convince every candid reader, that he possessed, in no common degree, two qualities very rarely united, ambitious ardour of mind and unaffected modesty. The poet, who speaks with such graceful humility of his literary atchievements, had at this time written Comus, a composition that abundantly displays the variety and compass of his poetical powers. After he had delineated, with equal excellence, the frolics of gaiety and the triumphs of virtue, passing with exquisite transition from the most sportive to the sublimest tones of poetry, he might have spoken more confidently of his own productions without a particle of arrogance.

We know not exactly what poems he composed during his residence at Horton. The Arcades seems to have been one of his early compositions, and it was intended as a compliment to his fair neighbour, the accomplished Countess Dowager of Derby; she was the sixth daughter of Sir John

Spencer, and allied to Spencer the poet, who, with his usual modesty and tender. ness, has celebrated her under the title of Amarillis. At the house of this lady, near Uxbridge, Milton is said to have been a frequent visitor. The Earl of Bridgewater, before whom, and by whose children, Comus was represented, had married a daughter of Ferdinando Earl of Derby, and thus, as Mr. Warton observes, it was for the same family that Milton wrote both the Arcades and Comus. It is probable that the pleasure which the Arcades afforded to the young relations of the Countess, gave rise to Comus, as Lawes, the musical friend of Milton, in dedicating the mask to the young Lord Brackley, her grandson, says, "this poem, which received its first occasion of birth from yourself and others of your noble family, and much honor from your own person in the performance."

These expressions of Lawes allude, perhaps, to the real incident, which is said to have supplied the subject of Comus, and may seem to confirm an anecdote related by Mr.

Warton, from a manuscript of Oldys; that the young and noble performers in this celebrated drama were really involved in adventures very similar to their theatrical situation; that in visiting their relations, in Hertfordshire, they were benighted in a forest, and the lady Alice Egerton actually lost.

Whatever might be the origin of the mask, the modesty of the youthful poet appears very conspicuous in the following words of Lawes's dedication: "Although not openly acknowledged by the author, yet it is a legitimate offspring, so lovely and so much desired, that the often copying of it, hath tired my pen, to give my several friends satisfaction, and brought me to a necessity of producing it to the public view."

Milton discovered a similar diffidence respecting his Lycidas, which was written. while he resided with his father, in November, 1637. This exquisite poem, which, as Mr. Warton justly observes, "must have been either solicited as a favor by those whom the poet had left in his college, or was a voluntary contribution of friendship,

sent to them from the country," appeared first in the academical collection of verses on the death of Mr. Edward King, and was subscribed only with the initials of its author.

An animated and benevolent veteran of criticism, Doctor Warton, has considered a relish for the Lycidas as a test of true taste in poetry; and it certainly is a test, which no lover of Milton will be inclined to dispute; though it must exclude from the list of accomplished critics that intemperate censor of the great poet, who has endeavoured to destroy the reputation of his celebrated monody with the most insulting expressions of sarcastic contempt; expressions that no reader of a spirit truly poetical can peruse without mingled emotions of indignation and of pity! But the charms of Lycidas are of a texture too firm to be annihilated by the breath of derision: and though Dr. Johnson has declared the poem to be utterly destitute both of nature and of art, it will assuredly continue to be admired as long as