experiment; of praise and blame there had been more than enough; he set himself to show the reason of things by a process of detailed criticism and analysis, so that his book is more than a history; it is a philosophy of letters. Many of the earlier writers of Lives had been servile eulogists. ‘We have had too many honeysuckle Lives of Milton’ he said to Malone; ‘mine shall be in another strain.’ It is in another strain; a strain of a higher mood than if he had called on all the flowers of the valley
To strew the laureat herse where Lycid lies.
He strives to be just; and is most just in this, that when he comes to Paradise Lost he gives over all reckoning of faults, and breaks into unmeasured praise. The magic of Milton’s early poems he had not felt; and he felt just enough of rational dislike for some parts of them to conceal from himself the operation of his strong political prejudice. But for this prejudice, L’Allegro and Il Penseroso, which he praises with subtle discrimination, might perhaps have given him occasion for one of his great memorable passages of critical appreciation.
In treating of the events of Milton’s life, he is sometimes fairer than the poet’s devotees. A great man will concede more than a little man understands how to claim. Edward Phillips, Milton’s nephew, pupil, and biographer, was exercised in mind about Milton’s school-keeping, and says: ‘Possibly his having proceeded so far in the education of youth may have been the occasion of some of his adversaries calling him pedagogue and school-master; whereas it is well known he never set up for a publick school to teach all the young fry of a parish, but only was willing to impart his learning
