Imagens da página
PDF
ePub

beauty, native truth, and pathos of which no one would more highly appreciate.

It may be further said, that, had the mature productions of Milton's Muse, so lovely in its earlier efforts, been unaffected by the events of that momentous and sombre period of our history, which threw a gloom over his mind, and darkened its strong and deep lineaments, no spirits could be more congenial than Scott's and his. For not only are there many traits of amiability recorded of Milton, but there is an unction in some of his first effusions so delightfully cheerful, and so chastened with pure morality, that it is impossible to suppose that Scott did not derive unmixed pleasure from such sources.

There is no question, notwithstanding the high encomiums passed upon the Paradise Lost by men of the first rank in literature-by Addison, Johnson, and otherswho have honoured it by elaborate criticisms, that it has often, when taken in its whole extent, proved wearisome to the reader, and has failed to approach the two unrivalled poems of antiquity in popular estimation or height of fame. When Johnson entered upon his critique of this great work of Milton, he seems to have felt something like the embarrassment arising from awe. He is decidedly not at his ease. A greater work, he says, in quitting the Sonnets, calls for greater care. "I am now to examine Paradise Lost; a poem which, considered with respect to design, may claim the first place; and, with respect to performance, the second, among the productions of the human mind." He labours accordingly, throughout the critique,

as if he had a task to perform upon which his own reputation, as well as Milton's, in some measure depended. Whereas, Addison loses sight of himself, and is lost sight of, in the interest which the work under examination inspires. "Milton," Dr. Johnson tells us, "has interwoven the whole system of theology with such propriety, that every part appears to be necessary; and scarcely any recital is wished shorter for the sake of quickening the progress of the main action." In another place he adds, "whoever considers the few radical positions which the Scriptures afforded him, will wonder by what energetic operation Milton expanded them to such extent, and ramified them to so much variety, restrained, as he was, by religious reverence from licentiousness of fiction. Here is a full display of the united force of study and genius; of a great accumulation of materials, with judgment to digest, and fancy to combine them. Milton was able to select from nature, or from story, from an ancient fable, or from modern science, whatever could illustrate or adorn his thoughts. An accumulation of knowledge impregnated his mind, fermented by study, and exalted by imagination." "But original deficience cannot be supplied. The want of human interest is always felt. Paradise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to take up again. None ever wished it longer than it is. Its perusal is a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for instruc

* NICHOLS's Edition of the Works of the English Poets, vol. i. p. 223.

tion, retire harassed and over-burdened, and look elsewhere for recreation; we desert our master, and seek for companions." Dr. Johnson, in fact, virtually admits, that the most interesting parts of Paradise Lost, in the acceptation of the generality of readers, are those which directly relate to our first parents, and the fortunes, or rather misfortunes, of our common nature. Yet he says, "the man and woman who act and suffer, are in a state which no other man or woman can ever know," and that "the reader, therefore, finds no transaction in which he can be engaged; beholds no condition in which he can, by any effort of imagination, place himself; and has, consequently, little natural curiosity or sympathy;" whereas, in their first state, with reference at least to their sanctity of thought, and child-like innocency, they are what we should all aspire to be; in their second state, what all of us, alas!

are.

It is precisely when Milton "sent his faculties out upon discovery, into worlds where only imagination can travel, and delighted to form new modes of existence, and furnish sentiment and action to superior beings, to trace the counsels of hell, or accompany the choirs of heaven, that we falter in the midst of his sublimity; that we experience no communion of sensation: but rather feel an awful apprehension that there is danger in thus blending things revealed and sacred, with things which, if not altogether profane, are not written for our instruction in the Book of Life. This it is that makes us lay the poem down, never perhaps to be resumed, were it not for the fascinations

which the Poet has thrown around its more familiar scenes. * Dr. Johnson says that "Milton knew human nature only in the gross, and had never studied the shades of character, nor the combinations of concurring, or the perplexity of contending, passions. He had read much, and knew what books could teach; but had mingled little in the world, and was deficient in the knowledge which experience must confer." With much more confidence it may be affirmed, that Scott was a complete man of the world, both by disposition and habits. Far less learned than Milton, he had nevertheless read much, with the advantage of a most retentive memory; and, with a greater regard to the pecuniary recompense of his labours, he yet scorned to prostitute his talents to mere lucre, endeavouring unceasingly to improve and delight mankind. To the credit of the age in which he lived, his success must have far exceeded his expectations. He gained more money by his writings, and a brighter fame, with less admixture of envy, than ever perhaps fell to the lot of any other author.

At the time of my falling in with him, his ardent patriotism had led him to become Quartermaster of the Royal Mid-Lothian Light Cavalry, Volunteers,† which loyal corps owed its origin [his biographer Mr. Lockhart informs us] to his own and his friend Mr. Skerries'

exertions.

In the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," there is

* See "Early Years," Vol. I. p. 303.

+ Paymaster, Quartermaster, and Secretary.-LOCKHART'S Life, vol. i. p. 259.

a "War Song," written by him for the Royal Edinburgh

Dragoons.

"To horse! to horse! the standard flies;

The bugles sound the call;

The Gallic navy stems the seas,

The voice of battle 's on the breeze,

Arouse ye, one and all!

From high Dunedon's towers we come,

A band of brothers true," &c. &c.

SCOTT's Minstrelsy, vol. iii. p. 417.

The corps of volunteers to which the above song was addressed, we are told in a note, was raised in 1797, consisting of gentlemen, mounted and armed at their own expense; and was afterwards constituted the right troop of the Royal Mid-Lothian Light Cavalry.

It is impossible, at the present day, to convey any adequate notion of the state of Great Britain at the time in question. Atheistical and revolutionary France had passed under the Iron sceptre of Buonaparte; and Europe, with the exception of a single nation, lay prostrate at his feet. His legions, encamped upon the heights of Boulogne, were panting to descend upon our shores, eager to seize the rich possessions of his pursuing foe. We dared no longer rely upon our fleets alone, but were driven to the alternative of becoming an armed nation, or of preparing our necks for a foreign yoke. Separated from the Continent of Europe by the straits of Dover only, it is an abuse of language, exclaimed the acute author of the "Foreign Policy of Nations," to talk of our security from

« AnteriorContinuar »