Hebrew prophet proclaiming the wrath to come. In the judgment of many critics this fierce attack upon the corrupt clergy of the time-no true shepherds (for so the pastoral metaphor is carried out), but mere hirelings-is an artistic mistake; it is not, they urge, in keeping with the body of the monody, and is fatal to that unity of feeling and tone by which such a poem should be characterised. But even if it be, strictly speaking, out of place, it is only the more conclusive testimony to the strength of the poet's emotion, which thus imperatively demands an outlet. To understand its significance we must remember not only the change in Milton's mind, but also the course of events by which that change had been brought about. Three years had passed since "Comus "' was written, and that brief intervening period had witnessed continual encroachments by the king and his ill-advising counsellors upon the constitutional and religious liberties of the English people. The absolutism which Charles and Strafford were endeavouring to establish in the State, Laud on his side was equally determined to establish in the Church. A harsh, narrowminded, and obstinate despot, he ruthlessly pursued his policy of stamping out every suggestion of Puritanism in the Anglican communion, destroying freedom of conscience and of worship, and forcing the whole of religious England into that rigid uniformity of public ritual which was his ideal. At the same time, while he had recourse to the most brutal severity in all his dealings with nonconforming Protestants, he behaved with conspicuous leniency towards Roman Catholics, and as this leniency was obviously due, not to liberality of opinion or the spirit of tolerance (of which he knew nothing), but to personal preferences, it boded ill for the work of the Reformation. The immense development in the mere externals of public worship which took place under his rule was regarded by the Puritans, to whom all ceremonial formalism was hateful, as a sure sign of his sympathy with the anti-Protestant tendencies which were at work in the land; even moderate men began to suspect that it was his ultimate design to bring the Church of England as near as possible to the Church of Rome, perhaps even to unite it to the Church of Rome; and the known bias of the Court, taken in conjunction with his policy of relentless bigotry, spread a feeling of panic among the masses of the people. By 1637, indeed, Laud had succeeded in alienating the best thought of England, and in fanning into a mighty flame the spirit of antagonism which had been rising rapidly in the Puritan party ever since his appointment to the Archbishopric of Canterbury four years before. Such was the state of things in the English religious world when Milton wrote his "Lycidas"; and it was because he so keenly realised the peril of the hour, because his soul was filled with such indignation and contempt for everything that Laud and his followers stood for and were seeking to achieve, that he poured out his passion in the burning lines in which, for the first time, he openly proclaimed his sympathy with the Puritan cause. Whatever, therefore, may be said about the artistic aspects of the passage in question, its autobiographical interest is unmistakable. LYCIDAS:1 A MONODY [In this Monody the Author bewails a learned friend, unfortunately drowned in his passage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637. And by occasion, foretells the ruin of our corrupted clergy, then in their highth.]* Yet once more, O ye Laurels, and once more I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude; Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year: So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favour my destined urn; 1 Lycidas is the name of a shepherd in Virgil's ninth Eclogue. This explanatory note was added by Milton in the first edition of his collected poems, published in 1645. 3 The fountain of the Muses on Mount Helicon. And, as he passes, turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Mean while the rural ditties were not mute, Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel But, oh, the heavy change, now thou art gone, The willows, and the hazel copses green, Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. As killing as the canker to the rose, Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, Or frost to flow'rs, that their gay wardrobe wear, When first the whitethorn blows; Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear. Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? For neither were ye playing on the steep,2 1 One of the shepherds in Virgil's Eclogues. 2 (6 Perhaps Penmaenmawr, overhanging the sea opposite Angle sea" (Keightley). Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 1 Nor yet where Deva 2 spreads her wisard stream : Ay me! I fondly dream! Had ye been there for what could that have What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 3 Fame is the spur that the clear sp'rit doth raise To scorn delights, and live laborious days; Nor in the glist'ring foil Set off to th' world, nor in broad rumour lies; Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed." 1 Anglesea. |