Rival to him, whose pen, to nature true,
The life of Homer eloquently drew!

If the two Latin verses, in which this amiable old man expressed his admiration of the young English bard, deserve the name of a

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sorry distich," which Johnson bestows upon them, they still present Milton to our fancy in a most favorable light. A traveller, so little distinguished by birth or opulence, would hardly have obtained such a compliment from a nobleman of Manso's experience, age, and dignity, had he not been peculiarly formed to engage the good opinion and courtesy of strangers, by the expressive comeliness of his person, the elegance of his manners, and the charm of his conversation.

In Manso, says Milton, I found a most friendly guide, who shewed me himself the curiosities of Naples, and the palace of the Viceroy. He came more than once to visit me, while I continued in that city; and when I left it, he earnestly excused himself, that although he greatly wished to render me more good offices, he was unable to do

so in Naples, because in my religion I had disdained all disguise*.

Pleasing and honorable as the civilities were that our young countryman received from this Nestor of Italy, he has amply repaid them in a poem, which, to the honor of English gratitude and English genius, we may justly pronounce superior to the compliments bestowed on this engaging character by the two celebrated poets, who wrote in his own language, and were peculiarly attached to them.

Of the five sonnets, indeed, that Tasso addressed to his courteous and liberal friend,

* Neapolim perrexi: illic per eremitam quendam, quîcum Româ iter feceram, ad Joannem Batistam Mansum, Marchionem Villensem, virum nobilissimum atque gravissimum (ad quem Torquatus Tassus, insignis poeta Italus, de amicitia scripsit) sum introductus; eodemque usus, quamdiu illic fui, sane amicissimo; qui et ipse me per urbis loca et proregis aulum circumduxit, et visendi gratiâ haud semel ipse ad hospittium venit: discendenti seriò excusavit se, tametsi multò plura detulisse mihi officia máxime cupiebat, non potuisse illâ in urbe, propterea quod nolebam in religione esse tectior.-Defensio Secunda.

two are very beautiful; but even these are surpassed, both in energy and tenderness, by the following conclusion of a poem, inscribed to Manso, by Milton.

Diis dilecte senex, te Jupiter æquus oportet Nascentem, et miti lustrarit lumine Phœbus, Atlantisque nepos; neque enim, nisi charus ab ortu Diis superis, poterit magno favisse poetæ: Hinc longæva tibi lento sub flore senectus Vernat, et Æsonios lucratur vivida fusos; Nondum deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, Ingeniumque vigens, et adultum mentis acumen. O mihi sic mea sors talem concedat amicum, Phoebæos decorasse viros qui tam bene norit, Siquando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges, Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem! Aut dicam invictæ sociali fœdere mensæ Magnanimos heroas; et O modo spiritus adsit, Frangam Saxonicas Britonum sub marte phalanges! Tandem ubi non tacitæ permensus tempora vitæ, Annorumque satur, cineri sua jura relinquam, Ile mihi lecto madidis astaret ocellis, Astanti sat erit si dicam sim tibi curæ: Ille meos artus, liventi morte solutos, Curaret parva componi molliter urnâ;

Forsitan et nostros ducat de marmore vultus,

Nectens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri

Fronde comas; at ego securâ pace quiescam.

Tum quoque, si qua fides, si præmia certa bonorum,
Ipse ego cœlicolum semotus in æthera divum,

Quo labor et mens pura vehunt, atque ignea virtus,
Secreti hæc aliquâ mundi de parte videbo,
Quantum fata sinunt: et tota mente serenum
Ridens, purpureo suffundar lumine vultus,
Et simul ætherio plaudam mihi lætus olympo.

Well may we think, O dear to all above,
Thy birth distinguish'd by the smile of Jove,
And that Apollo shed his kindliest power,
And Maia's son, on that propitious hour;
Since only minds so born can comprehend
A poet's worth, or yield that worth a friend:
Hence on thy yet unfaded cheek appears
The lingering freshness of thy greener years;
Hence in thy front and features we admire
Nature unwither'd, and a mind entire.
O might so true a friend to me belong,
So skill'd to grace the votaries of song,
Should I recall hereafter into rhyme
The kings and heroes of my native clime,
Arthur the chief, who even now prepares
In subterraneous being future wars,
With all his martial knights to be restor❜d,
Each to his seat around the fed'ral board; -

And O! if spirit fail me not, disperse
Our Saxon plunderers in triumphant verse
Then after all, when with the past content,
A life I finish, not in silence spent,

Should he, kind mourner, o'er my death bed bend,
I shall but need to say "be still my friend!"
He, faithful to my dust, with kind concern,
Shall place it gently in a modest urn;
He too, perhaps, shall bid the marble breathe
To honor me, and with the graceful wreath,
Or of Parnassus, or the Paphian Isle,

Shall bind my brows-but I shall rest the while.
Then also, if the fruits of faith endure,
And virtue's promis'd recompence be sure,
Borne to those seats, to which the blest aspire,
By purity of soul and virtuous fire,

These rites, as fate permits, I shall survey

With eyes illumin'd by celestial day,

And, every cloud from my pure spirit driven,
Joy in the bright beatitude of heaven.

The preceeding verses have various claims to attention; they exhibit a lively picture of the literary project that occupied the mind of Milton at this period; they forcibly prove with what vehemence of desire