The spirit of the poet was, in truth, little formed for yielding to any weaknesses of fancy that could impede mental exertion; and we may consider it as one of the striking peculiarities of his character, that with an imagination so excursive he possessed a mind so industrious.

His studious habits are thus described by his acquaintance Aubrey and others, who collected their account from his widow :he rose at four in the summer, at five in the winter, and regularly began the day by hearing a chapter in the Hebrew Bible; it was read to him by a man, who, after this duty, left him to meditation of some hours, and, returning at seven, either read or wrote for ⚫ him till twelve; he then allowed himself an hour for exercise, which was usually walking, and when he grew blind the occasional resource of a swing: after an early and temperate dinner he commonly allotted some time to music, his favorite amusement; and his own musical talents happily furnished him with a pleasing relaxation from his severer pursuits; he was able to vary his in

strument, as he played both on the bass viol and the organ, with the advantage of an agreeable voice, which his father had probably taught him to cultivate in his youth. This regular custom of the great poet, to indulge himself in musical relaxation after food, has been recently praised as favorable to mental exertion, in producing all the good effects of sleep, with none of its disadvantages, by an illustrious scholar, who, like Milton, united the passion and the talents of poetry to habits of intense and diversified application. Sir William Jones, in the third volume of the Asiatic researches, has recommended, from his own experience, this practice of Milton, who from music returned to study; at eight he took a light supper, and at nine retired to bed.

If such extreme regularity could be preserved at any period, it must have been in the closing years of his life. While he was in office, his time was undoubtedly much engaged, not only by official attendance, but by his intercourse with learned foreigners, as the parliament allowed him a

weekly table for their reception. The Latin compositions of Milton had rendered him, on the continent, an object of idolatry; "and strangers (says Wood, who was far from being partial to his illustrious contemporary) visited the house where he was born." Even in his latter days, when he is supposed to have been neglected by his countrymen, intelligent foreigners were solicitous to converse with him as an object of their curiosity and veneration; they regarded him, and very justly, as the prime wonder of England; for he was, in truth, a person so extraordinary, that it may be questioned if any age or nation has produced his parallel. Is there, in the records of literature, an author to be found, who, after gaining such extensive celebrity as a political disputant, cast off the mortal vesture of a polemic, and arose in the purest splendor of poetical immortality?

Biographers are frequently accused of being influenced by affection for their subject; to a certain degree it is right that they should be so; for what is biography

in its fairest point of view? a tribute paid by justice and esteem to genius and to virtue; and never is this tribute more pleasing or more profitable to mankind, than when it is liberally paid, with all the fervor and all the fidelity of friendship; the chief delight and the chief utility that arises from this attractive branch of literature consists in the affectionate interest, which it displays and communicates in favor of the talents and probity, that it aspires to celebrate; hence the most engaging pieces of biography are those that have been written by relations of the deceased. This remark is exemplified in the life of Agricola by Tacitus, and in that of Racine, the dramatic poet, written by his son, (who was also a poet) and addressed to his grandson.

It has been the lot of Milton to have his life frequently described, and recently, by a very powerful author, who, had he loved the character he engaged to delineate, might, perhaps, have satisfied the admirers of the poet, and closed the list of his numerous biographers. But the very wonder

ful mind of Johnson was so embittered by prejudice, that in delineating a character confessedly pre-eminent in accomplishments, in genius, and in piety, he perpetually endeavours to represent him as unamiable, and instead of attributing any mistaken opinions, that he might entertain, to such sources as charity and reason conspire to suggest, imputes them to supposed vices in his mind, most foreign to his nature, and the very worst that an enemy could ima gine.

In the course of this narrative, I have considered it as a duty incumbent upon me to notice and counteract, as they occurred, many important strokes of the hostility which I am now lamenting; these become still more remarkable in that portion of the biographer's labor, to which I am at length arrived; it is in dissecting the mind of Milton, if I may use such an expression, that Johnson indulges the injurious intemperance of his hatred. "It is to be suspected (he says) that his predominant desire was to destroy rather than establish; and that