has been an April day, with occasional gleams of sunshine, and many clouds and storms; from the happy structure of his mind, when not under the immediate pressure of suffering, he is ever ready to recur to the former, and to forget the latter. This renders his society peculiarly valuable and acceptable to those who are labouring under distress of body or mind; nor is it less agreeable to the happy and the gay, to the young, and to the old, to whose respective feelings and situations he can adapt himself with peculiar versatility of powers. The following sonnet, addressed to Mr. Pratt, on a mental review of his various works, confirms our remarks on his companionable talents. SONNET. TO MR. PRATT.* On a mental review of his various works. With thee, sweet bard! I've felt th' ecstatic glow Led by the magic of thy fertile mind Through fields of fancy have I lov'd to stray; Now caught mirth's transports from thy colouring gay. To every touch my heart responsive beat, And own'd a master's hand, and felt his powers complete. But not, DEAR GLEANER, to thy genius bright, Oft has thy converse cheer'd dejection's night- W. MAVOR, L. L. D. But it is not only in easy conversation that he shines in reading and recitation he is a model fit for imitation; and, if we are not misinformed, some of the most distinguished characters at the bar, in the pulpit, and on the stage, have solicited and obtained his friendly advice and assistance, in qualifying them as public speakers. In a word, rising genius is always sure to find in him a ready and a zealous friend, according to his opportunities of serving and bring * The Latin complimentary verses inserted in the early part of this memoir, [p. 365, vol. xv.] are the production of J. Morfitt, Esq. author of many elegant per formances. ing it to light; and the unfortunate having a constant advocate in his own breast, never yet applied to him in vain, for what was in his power to bestow. Suitable to these ever well-intentioned, though not always fortunate ends, Mr. P. is assuredly endowed, both by nature and acquirements, with the most favourable means; his address being uncommonly engaging, and his manners peculiarly gentle. At the same time we are in recollection of instances, where his zeal has led him beyond the point at which it would have been not only more consistent with worldly wisdom, and with the ease of his own mind, but with the most adventurous friendship, to stop. An ardency of character this, which sometimes produces as great difficulties to the person who acts under its impulse, as those which it hazards every thing to remove from the breasts of others. But this is a knighterrantry in friendship, we are, on a double account, not disposed to damp: first, because there is little fear of this Quixotism becoming too common, and because we appreciate its motives, while we regret its occasional effects; and, secondly, because it is, at the worst, one of the ebullitions which "stumbles on abuse," only from its being pushed to an excess. With respect to that spirit of jealousy which too often embroils writers with each other, the object of our immediate consideration certainly feels nothing. On the testimony of long experience we can assert, that it is one of the most supreme delights of his life, to add to the lustre of that merit which is eminent, and to discover and bring forward that which is in the shade; nor has the writer of this article, in the course of years of observation, ever heard him start or join in one illiberal, or even harsh remark on any contemporary author. On the contrary, his voice and pen have been warm in their praise, and generously indignant in their defence, whenever envy or malice, covert or avowed, has sent forth a poisoned arrow at the fame of worth or genius. The beautiful painting from which the head that accompanies this memoir was taken, is one of the most striking likenesses we have seen. It was painted by that ingenious artist Mr. Beach, of Bath, who is mentioned with deserved applause in the immortal poem of "Sympathy," when our author was about thirty years of age. We understand it is the earliest picture that ever was taken of him, and it certainly is the best of which a copy has yet been laid before the public. ESSAY ON MILTON. (Continued from page 375, vol. XVI.) THERE is no man so infamous, nor any cause so corrupt, but meets some one who, either from interest or coincidence of opinion, is ready to sacrifice his honour to his sentiments or convenience. It is not, therefore, a matter of surprise that the deposition of Charles should excite the passions of many, and call forth abilities which would have been more honourably employed in affording better advice to the unfortunate monarch when in the plenitude of his power and in its fortunate decline. The Eikon Basilikon, under the sanction of being written by the king, was ushered into the world at a time when the fury of the people began to cool. The effect was naturally to be dreaded: it had the same tendency as the will of Cæsar, and past through fifty editions in the course of one year at home and abroad. To counteract the ill consequences which were likely to ensue from this appeal, was a task imposed upon the abilities of Milton; and the candour with which he begins this celebrated answer (entitled Iconoclastes) and the solemnity of the period, can never be sufficiently admired. "To descant on the misfortunes of a man, fallen from so high a dignity, who hath also paid his final debt to nature, and his faults, is neither itself a thing commendable, nor the intention of this discourse; nor let his enemies expect to find recorded here all that hath been whispered in the court, or alledged openly of the king's bad actions; it being the scope of this work not to relate the misdoings of his whole life, but to answer only and refute the mis-sayings of his book." Wishing not therefore to attack the private, or even the public life of the royal sufferer, any farther than he was impelled by necessity in the maintenance of his cause, he was guided by what he considered his duty, and all imputations of personal malice on his part must consequently be deemed futile and ungenerous. As the Eikon was divided under many heads, Milton undertook to answer each of them in the same order. Charles (the ostensible author) had affirmed that his last parliament was called, "not more by others advice than by his own choice and inclination." This declaration was so far from being true, that it was not even plausible, as his majesty's aversion to parliaments was but too well known, and Milton hesitates not in detecting a position so palpably flagrant, and draws an inference at once natural and cogent: a more unlucky and inauspicious sentence," says he, “and more betoking the downfal of his whole fabrick, hardly could have come into his mind, and argues how little truth we can expect from the sequel of a book, which ventures, in the very first period, to affront more than one nation by an untruth so remarkable." In the course of this section he discovers that Charles's celebrated prayer published in his works, and entitled "A Prayer in the Time of Captivity," was literally transcribed from Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia. This and other evidences induced Milton to doubt the circumstance of the king's being the real author of the book he was answering. The truth of this idea was afterwards accidentally confirmed by Lord Anglesea. The detection of this plagiarism afterwards gave rise to much scandal and malignity, and the Royalists perceiving the ill effect. which accrued to their cause from it, were induced to fasten an infamy upon the memory of Milton, which no one, conversant in the sublimity of his character, can be capable of believing; viz. that by Milton's and Bradshaw's artifice, this prayer was inserted in Charles's book, that he might have the glorious opportunity of detecting the theft. This malevolent accusation rests solely upon the evidence of a sordid bookseller, who, to gain the patronage of James II. and obtain the honour of being the Royal printer, was induced to rescue the memory of the King's father from reproach and contempt. The most decisive answer to this calumny, is the positive fact, that the Eikon, with the prayer inserted in it, was edited three times before Milton's answer appeared. And Juxon, who, after the Reformation, could be under no fear of ill consequences to himself, does not contradict the truth of its authenticity. This section did more injury to the Royal cause, than all the answer besides. The kingdom, by the publication of the Eikon, had, in some measure, forgotten the crimes and follies of the deceased King, and were raised to compassion for his misfortunes, by the reading what was considered as his dying apology. The confession of some errors, and the vindication of others, had wrought a temporary belief in the goodness of his intentions, and there were not wanting many even of the popular party, who considered him rather as an ill-advised and unfortunate monarch, than as a man acting up to the hereditary opinions of his family. The piety displayed in the Eikon, imposed upon the imaginations of some, and upon the feelings of others: and it was to counteract the effect of these impressions, that Government commanded Milton to write this justly celebrated reply. The death of E. Strafford, the march from Whitehall to the House of Commons, his proposals to O'Neal and Sir J. Henderson, next pass the ordeal of his criticism. Charles, or rather his author for him, had affirmed that the bill for triennial parliaments was granted in all justice, reuson, honour, and conscience: this confession was a plausible arguiment for the royal defender to demonstrate the virtue of his intentions, and the magnitude of parliamentary ingratitude: but such a gift, as Milton says, was the third part of one step towards that, which in times past was our annual right." And unfortunately for the King's power, he had to contend with a wise and cautious assembly, who put but little faith in extorted concessions, uttered to lull them into security, that he might take the first opportunity of annulling the gift, when it could have been done without fear or injury to his safety. 66 The rebellion in Ireland, and the massacre of the protestants, "which, in the Province of Ulster, amounted, by their own computation, to one hundred and fifty-four thousand," was laid to the charge of the king and his ministers; and the popish lords and bishops opposing the sending assistance to that kindom, were consequently expelled the house. The frequent audiences given to the popish committee, in the summer previous to that dreadful October; his Majesty's waving his right to five Irish counties, for a trifling rent; the opening of the rebellion two months after the return of the committee to Ireland; the fact of their being agents and actors in that horrible business, gave great colouring to this idea, and all the oaths and protestations distributed in the twelfth chapter of the Eikon, will perhaps be found too weak to combat the evidence of such presumptive circumstances. This was a serious and dreadful crime, whether of the Irish priests merely, or by the consent of the King: the effects were natural, and the violent and clamorous indignation against the government which succeeded, can excite but little surprise. Milton proceeds farther to investigate the truth of some positions advanced in the Eikon, treating at some length upon the events of the war; the reformation of the times; upon the king's delivering himself up to the Scots; and ridiculing the editor of the work for painting so much to the passions of the people, by representing the king at his prayers, in a print, prefixed as frontispeice. This closes his celebrated answer. With respect to language, this is the masterpiece of his prose works; the sentiments are masculine and energetic, the periods, though sometimes too long, are sententious, and admirably rounded. |