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sician, would be considered a superfluity or even a handicap. It is a proof of his greatness that no sharp line of division can be drawn between his ideas of music and of poetry, just as it is the proof of the greatness of a philosopher that no barrier need separate his ideas of science from those of his religion. A noble, Christian soul, imbued with the spirit of poetry, cannot possibly isolate one of the fine arts from his inner life, and make it the object of mere reflective consciousness. He must either overlook it entirely, or make it a definite part of his own existence. Thus Milton's theory of music is really only a part in his theory of the universe. His experience teaches him that the laws of harmony are in some mysterious way the expressions of ultimate reality. If only they are carried far enough they will be found to possess universal validity. His philosophical instincts once satisfied, Milton proceeds as a Christian, throwing over his whole conception the poetic glamor which the Scriptural allegories themselves justify. With God as the central controlling source, the infallibility of his system need not be questioned. It is above and beyond all laws known to man. God has created the universe in a secret harmony of which we have but an inkling in the laws of mathematics and of music-a harmony which pervades not only the heavens and the celestial choirs, but the planets in their spheres, the elements, and even all Nature and the creatures of

earth. Such is the mystic sublimity of the conception

to which Milton is brought by his theory of music.

V

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF MILTON'S KNOWLEDGE OF MUSIC

A mere record of facts, statistics, and observations regarding Milton's knowledge of music is of little value except as it adds to our knowledge of the mental and spiritual life of the poet. How slight, after all, is our acquaintance with the inner workings of a soul such as that which we call Milton! How futile would be any attempts to systematize accurately his manner of thought! Our information concerning him is necessarily limited to two sources-his biographers, whose testimony is not always unimpeachable, and his own writings, which are too often open to a variety of interpretations. Whatever is not directly and definitely imparted to us from these sources must be sought out by laborious analysis and painstaking comparisons. In this study of Milton's knowledge of music, therefore, the final aim must be not to draw up a table of statistics, but to show how these accumulated details may increase our knowledge of the spirit of the man Milton.

The first question to be considered is that of the relation of Milton to his time. How, as illustrated by his interest in music, did Milton's mind compare with the minds of his contemporaries? It would be a mistake not to regard him as the natural product of his time. He was not an exception, a unique prodigy, living apart from his environment, and having no share in its intellectual life. The influences which affected him were the same as those which affected other poets and other musicians. The difference between Milton and his contemporaries lay not in the materials which presented

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themselves to him, but in the way in which these materials were utilized-in other words, in his mental habits themselves. Milton differed from most other men of his generation in that he was a thinking man. The Cavalier was not conspicuously intellectual. And, though the Puritans really claimed the right of private judgment, yet even the most independent of them were so possessed of a single idea that their thought was stunted into bigotry. But Milton thought always. The breadth and depth of his mind are nowhere better shown than in his treatment of music. The materials at his command were here the same as those used by any other musician of his time; but how completely they were transformed by his powers of thought! The dependence on the classical writers on theory, for instance, was common to most scholarly musicians of the seventeenth century. Even though little understood, the Greek music was still considered the basis of all systems of harmony. But, while to its originators the Greek theory really meant something, its principles had become, to the minds of the seventeenth century, mere lifeless formulas. Milton approached Greek music in a different spirit. To him, as a lover of the classics as well as of music, these ancient theories had reality and life. They were parts of a great philosophy, a great system of thought. They showed how the experience of the universe affected their originators. This universe was still the same; his own experience was similar to theirs ; the laws laid down in ancient times had proved constant. What wonder, then, that Milton should have appropriated and expressed the Greek theory in all its pristine purity? To him human thought was one continuous process, dealing with one continuous problem. Even nowadays we are too much inclined to conceive of a distinct break somewhere between the past and the present. We are apt to think of ancient art, ancient music,

ancient literature as incompatible with our own civilization. To Milton there was no such break. He identified himself with antiquity as truly and as completely as with his own time. His debt to the classics is therefore wellnigh immeasurable. From them he derives his philosophical attitude towards music, his respect for its laws, his reverence for its mystical attributes. What in an ordinary mind would import a mere scholarly interest is with Milton a deep feeling, a firmly-grounded faith, inherent in his spiritual life.

But he owes much also to contemporary music and musicians, both English and Italian. From the latter, in particular, he learns the practical possibilities of the art. He studies the best compositions, hears the best performers on various instruments, himself acquires the ability to express his own thoughts through the medium of voice or instrument. He sees the real manifested in the empirical. By direct contact with music as thus revealed to him, his poetical imagination is inspired. The individuality of an instrument becomes to his fancy an actual personality. The human voice becomes a manifestation. of divine spirit. But it is on its technical side that contemporary music influences Milton most decidedly. The most striking point concerning his references to music, and one which has always been noted by commentators, is his unfailing technical accuracy. Whether it be a matter of the art or the theory of music, whether it has to do with voice or instrument, performance or composition, Milton's allusion is always technically and minutely correct. As a result, his musical metaphors possess a strength and a consistency which the casual reader often fails to appreciate. This technical accuracy Milton owes to his very thorough knowledge of contemporary music, acquired not only through the teaching of his

father, but through constant practice and intercourse with skilled musicians as well.

The important influence thus exerted by the art of music throughout his life resulted in an idealization of harmony in his mind. The prevalence throughout the universe of an actual musical harmony constantly suggested to him the possibility of a general, spiritual harmony within himself and among men. It was an ideal never realized by the poet on earth, for his own life was one peculiarly lacking in harmony. In his university days he was secluded and often discontented, misunderstood by his fellows, possibly also misjudged by his masters. Later he fell out with the church and fought to unseat the bishops. His domestic troubles were notorious. His divorce pamphlets involved him in public controversies. He was continually buffeted by jarring political factions. He strove to defend free speech against Presbyterian oppression, and again to vindicate the cause of English freedom in the face of all Europe. His theology was a subject of dispute with others and even within himself. After losing his eyesight in the service of his country he was doomed to endure the downfall of his cause, and in the triumph of his enemies barely escaped with his life. In spite of such discords his ideal of harmony remained constant.

What light, then, does Milton's love of music, admitting its importance in his life, throw upon his character as a whole? It reveals him first as a philosopher, second as a poet, and finally as a Christian. Each of these phases of his character must be considered in turn.

His philosophy, in the first place, enables him to find ultimate reality in music. It induces in him a love of the mathematical, of the scientifically accurate. His knowledge of mathematics and of the mathematical properties of music leads him to suppose that their underlying laws