his mind turned most naturally to music as analogous to literature, when he speaks contemptuously of licensing musical instruments in the same manner in which books are to be licensed.1 With the return of his wife and the removal to Barbican (1645) a more peaceful period began. The town house of the Earl of Bridgewater was near by, and possibly Milton renewed his acquaintance with the Lady Alice and Mr. Thomas Egerton, who had taken part in the Comus more than ten years before. Harry Lawes was still intimate with both the Egerton and the Milton families, and his visits to Barbican must have been frequent. It was at this time (Feb. 9, 1645-6) that Milton wrote his extravagant sonnet in praise of Lawes.2 Early in the same year the first edition of his poems was published. The title-page reads, " Poems of Mr. John Milton, both English and Latin, compos'd at several times The Songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes." From this Masson argues that Lawes set music to other works of Milton besides the Arcades and Comus.4 It is thus evident that there was no break in the friendship between the musician and the poet, and the intimacy probably continued until Lawes' death in 1662. From this time on to the end of Milton's life, the record of his musical interests must be gathered almost entirely from the allusions in his works. Of actual facts few are recorded. His father, the aged musician-scrivener, died in 1647. Five years later, Milton's eyes, long tried by excessive study and the demands of public work, failed completely. Is it not likely that with the beginning of Milton's blindness his sense for sound increased? Nature is commonly credited with atoning in some degree for the afflictions visited upon men. Certainly in his later 1 P. W. 2. 73. See Appendix I, p. 112. 2 See above, p. 20. 3 Jan. 2, 1645-6. 4 Masson, Life 3. 464. poetical works Milton shows a decided preference for the description of audible impressions, a love of the sounds in Nature rather than its visible beauties, a sensitiveness. of hearing rather than of sight.1 This peculiar delight in sounds had, it is true, been characteristic of Milton all through his life, yet there can be no doubt that it increased perceptibly and found a more decided expression in his writings after his blindness came upon him.2 The lines of Paradise Lost are full of musical reminiscences. Echoes of madrigals and anthems heard long ago resound in the song of the angel choirs. Real figures of the past, Leonora singing at Rome, Frescobaldi playing the organ, are reflected again in visionary, supernatural forms. All the musical elements of the pagan cosmology are refashioned into his Christian idea of heaven, where celestial melodies, arising from the very motion of the spheres, resound unceasingly. The poet's unquenchable desire for harmony is the dominant motive. It is a longing which in his earthly experience has never been satisfied, a fixed idea which has possessed him throughout his life. In the face of the constant changes of his condition, of the jangle and discord of strife and quarrel ever grating upon his delicate sensibilities, this one purpose has remained fixed. He has failed to discover a religious, a political, or even a domestic harmony which could satisfy his soul. But from his actual experience, his knowledge of natural laws, he builds up a strong faith 1 Cf. especially the opening of the Third Book of Paradise Lost, quoted in part below, Appendix I, pp. 114-115. * Richardson tells an interesting story illustrating Milton's sub⚫stitution of hearing for sight. "Milton, hearing a lady sing finely, Now will I swear,' says he,' this lady is handsome.' His ears now were eyes to him." Richardson, p. vi. 3 Many of his choicest years of life were employed in wrangling, and receiving and racquetting back reproach, accusation, and sarcasm... Only Musick he enjoyed." —Richardson, pp. cii, oiii. in a complete spiritual harmony which must exist for him somewhere in the future, and which at present can be but a mystical ideal. Of the last years of the poet's life few details are known. His third wife, Elizabeth Minshull, who was with him up to the time of his death, is described by Aubrey as a gent. person, a peaceful and agreeable humor." 1 There is a tradition that she could sing, and that Milton told her playfully that she had a good voice but no ear.2 Aubrey tells us that " he had an organ in his house; he played on that most."3 Probably it had been the property of his father before him. The little gatherings of musical friends evidently still continued. Such a one is indicated in the sonnet To Mr. Lawrence (1656-60) in which the chief of the pleasures described is To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice When his final illness set in, it was by his music that he supported his spirits. "He would be cheerful even in his gout fits, and sing," 5 not the psalms or the doleful chants of a dying man, I take it, but the fresh, undismayed songs of one in whose soul the spirit of harmony was as strong as ever. 1 Brief Lives 2. 65. 2 Masson, Life 6. 477. 3 Brief Lives 2. 67. Cf. also Richardson, p. v., and Toland, Life 138; 139. 4 S. 20. 11-12. 5 Aubrey, Brief Lives 2. 67. III MILTON AND THE ART OF MUSIC That Milton possessed a thorough knowledge of the art of music is affirmed by all his biographers. His works, moreover, are full of technical allusions whose significance cannot be overlooked. A study of these sources of information shows him to have been an active musician both in practice and in theory-playing and singing himself, listening to concerts, taking a lively interest in the instruments, the performances, and the compositions of his day, instructing his pupils in music, possibly even experimenting at times with compositions of his own.1 The depth of his musical culture and the extent of his experience in the art at once suggest certain definite and interesting inquiries. What was the measure of his abilities ? What were his tastes? Were his sympathies with the music of his own time, or with that of the past? In what way did his mental life in general affect his attitude towards so definite and concrete a subject? As to the poet's musical ability, it is easy to judge. He had, first and foremost, a thorough knowledge of the organ. It was, according to all biographers, his favorite instrument, a preference easily inferred from his frequent allusions to the organ, both in his poetry and in his prose. He not only discusses it with intimate knowledge, but treats it with evident personal affection as well. It is the only musical instrument mentioned in his Common 1 Cf. Aubrey, Brief Lives 2. 64; 67; Richardson, p. ii; v ; ciii ; Toland, Life, p. 138; Todd, Life, pp. 148, 149; P. W. 1. 255 ; and see above, pp. 14, 16, 18, 21, 22, 23. place Book.1 He shows an interest not only in the sounds, but in the structure of the instrument. At one time he tells us how in an organ, from one blast of wind, To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes." 4 The statement is accurate, but by no means obvious to one who is not a musician. At other times he is careful to dwell upon the blowing of the organ-to speak of it as a wind-instrument. When, in his Second Defence of the People of England, Milton declares that he "can hardly refrain from assuming a more lofty and swelling tone," 5 the expression inevitably suggests the poet sitting at his organ, improvising in simple, harmonious measures, but now and then tempted to draw out a stop, and thunder his indignation fortissimo. Naturally he idealizes his favorite instrument. To him it is the most fitting expression of the sublime in Nature. When the spheres add their music to that of the angel choirs in praise of the birth of the Savior," the bass of Heaven's deep organ is the foundation of the universal harmony. On the day of rest, "not in silence holy kept," the music of Heaven includes " all organs of sweet 1 Under the heading De Musica the following item is included : Organa primum in Gallia, Les Ambassadeurs de Constantin emperour Grec apportérent à roy Pepin des Orgues, qu'on n'avoit pas encore veuës en France.'- Girard, Hist. France 1. 3, p. 138." (C. F. A. Williams, Story of the Organ, pp. 27-28, states that the emperor Copronymus VI of Constantinople sent an organ as a present to Pepin, the father of Charlemagne, in A. D. 757, which was placed in the church of St. Corneille at Campiagne, there being no organs in France at the time.") 2 P. L. 1. 708-709. 3 See the explanation in Keightley, Life, p. 433, and the diagram in C. F. A. Williams, Story of the Organ, p. 21. Cf. also Kircher, Mus. Univ. 6. 3. 4 Il P. 161; H. 130. 5 P. W. 1. 219. 6 H. 130. |