"Upon this passage, Dr. Johnson, with a vulgar malignity that is almost incredible, observes, 'he did not sell literature to all comers at an open shop; he was a chamber-milliner, and measured his commodities only to his friends!''" "Thus laboriously does his Nephew extenuate what cannot be denied (that he kept a school), and what might be confessed without disgrace. Milton was not a man who could become mean by a mean employment. This, however, his warmest friends seem not to have found, they therefore shift and palliate. He did not sell literature to all comers at an open shop; he was a chamber-milliner, and measured his commodities only to his friends." If, in the above extract, vulgar malignity be at all discernible, it is not directed against Milton. HE, as Johnson exultingly says, perhaps in recollection of his own somewhat similar position, was not a man to become mean by a mean employment; the sarcasm is directed against his friends, impatient of viewing him, in what they conceived a state of degradation; the disgrace of which they hoped to palliate, by intimating that Milton's was not a public, but a private school. "Johnson, by the mere instinct of illwill to Milton, struck upon an unpleasant fact, which he confessed he could not sustain by any recorded proofs." "I am ashamed to relate what I fear is true, that Milton was one of the last students at either University that suffered the public indignity of corporal correction." "It may be conjectured from the willingness with which he has perpetuated the memory of his exile, that its cause was such as gave him no shame." " To the expressions "scurrilous injustice to Milton;" disgraceful Biography:" "ridiculous as this clumsy invention is, Dr. Johnson adopts it, and adds with a sneer;" "for the purpose of indulging a contemptible verbal criticism;" "a fact which nobody but Dr. Johnson would have derided;" flippant eulogy or satirical contempt;" and others, which the writer delights in employing; I will oppose a few of the phrases, by which Milton and his works are described by Dr. Johnson. " "It appears in all his writings, that he had the usual concomitant of great ability, a lofty and steady confidence in himself." "Milton in return addressed him in a Latin Poem which must have raised a high opinion of English elegance and literature." " In his school, as in every thing else which he undertook, he laboured with great diligence." "Such is the reverence paid to great abilities, however misused; they who contemplated in Milton, the scholar and the wit, were contented to forget the Reviler of his King." "I cannot but remark a kind of respect, perhaps unconsciously, paid to this great man by his biographers: every house in which he resided, is historically mentioned, as if it were an injury to neglect naming any place that he had honoured with his presence." "His Latin pieces are lusciously ele But why refer to any thing more, though the Biographer speaks degradingly of it, than the brilliant Review of Paradise Lost? One more comment upon the new Biography, and I have done. "At page 143, referring to a quotation in the apology for Smectymnuus, the following note is conspicuous: "Dr. Johnson extracts a part of this passage, and with incredible malignity, mutilates it by omission." Below is given the passage as quoted by Johnson, and within brackets, the omission. "The fellows of the college wherein I spent some years, at my parting, after I had taken two degrees, as the manner is, signified many times how much better it would content them that I would stay, [as by many letters full of kindness and loving respect, both before that time and long after, I was assured of their singular good affection towards me."] This is the omission characterised by the very opprobrious epithet, incre dible malignity. Have none but Johnson been guilty of sins of omission, against which declaimers might inveigh with retaliating effect? The Biographer tells us that, in 1750, Comus was performed for the benefit of Milton's surviving granddaughter, and coldly adds, "the prologue for this occasion was written by Dr. Johnson." It would have been generous (he upbraids Johnson with being ungenerous), it would have been courteous (he upbraids Johnson with being churlish), it would have been manly, not to mutilate by omission the praise which the bigoted Johnson deserved upon this occasion. He laid aside his political enmity in the cause of charity, and the reputation of Milton. It was Johnson by whom the proposal of a benefit was made to Garrick, it was Johnson who published in the "General Advertiser" a letter in support of this benefit, urging the attendance of all who admired "OUR incomparable Milton; " it was he who procured subscriptions in aid of the distressed widow; it was he who by every means in his power promoted this national tribute "to the perpetual praise of the illustrious dead." "It is yet," says Johnson, “in the power of a great people, to reward the poet, whose name they boast, and from their alliance to whose genius they claim some kind of superiority to every other nation of the earth; that poet, whose works may possibly be read, when every other monument of British greatness shall be obliterated; to reward him-not with pictures, or with medals, which if he sees, he sees with contempt, but with tokens of gratitude, which he, perhaps, may even now consider as not unworthy the regard of an immortal spirit." Johnson is charged with bigotry, with falsehood, with asperity, with malignity, and with other hateful passions, his good qualities have been altogether mutilated by omission. If mutilation by omission indicates incredible malignity, what shall we say of this? MEMORIALS OF LITERARY CHARACTERS, No. XXVII. THE COPY OF A LETTER WRIT BY THE I AM sorry to understand by Mr. Janaway's letter to my sonn that ye distempere growes upon you, and yt you seem to decline soe fast. I am very sencible how much easier it is to give advise against trouble in ye case of another than to take it in our owne; it hath pleased God to exercise me of late wth a very sore tryall in ye lose of my deare and only child, in wch I doe perfectly submit to his good pleasure, * We are not aware that this excellent letter of condolence has hitherto been published; but if it has, we are sure that the great beauty and true piety of its sentiments will afford us a sufficient excuse for the repetition; and we feel much indebted to the correspondent who has furnished it. EDIT, firmly beleiving yt hee allways does what is best, and yet though reason be satisfied, our passion is not soe soone appeased; and when nature hath received a wound, time must be allowed for ye healing of it. Since that, God hath thought fit to give me a nearer sumons and a closer warning of my mortallity in ye danger of an appoplixie; which yet, I thank God for it, hath occationed no very melancholy reflections, but yet this, perhaps, is more owing to naturall temper than philosophy and wise consideration. Our case, I know, is very different, you are of a temper naturally melancholy, and under a distemper apt to increse it, for boath wh great allowances are to be made; and yet methinks both reason and religion doe offer to us considerations of yt solidity and strength as may very well support our spirits under all ye frailtes of y flesh; such as these, that God is perfect love and goodness, yt we are not only his creetures but his children, and as deare to him as ourselves; yt he does not afflict willingly, or greve y children of men; and yt all evills and afflictions wh befall us, are intended for ye cure and prevention of greater evills of sin and punishment, and therefore wee ought not only to submit to them wth patience as being deserved by us, but to returne them wth thankfullness as being designed by him to doe us yt good and to bring us to that sence of him and ourselves, which, perhapes, nothing else that ye sufferings of extreme and endless misery, which wee have deserved, and with yt exceeding and eternall weight of glory wch wee hope for in ye other world, that if wee be carefull to make ye best preparations we can, for death and eternity, whatever brings us nearer to our end brings us nearer to happiness; and how ruged soever ye way be, the comfort is it leades to our father's house, where wee shall want nothing yt wee can wish. When wee labour under a dangerous distemper, yt thretens our life, what would wee not be content to brave in order to perfect recovery, could wee but be assured of it? and should not wee be willing to endure much more in order to happiness, and yt eternall life which God, y can not lye, hath promised? Nature, I know, is fond of life, and apt to be still lingering after a longer continuance heare. Yet a long life, with the usuall burthens and infirmities of it, is seldome desierable; it is but ye same thing over again or worse. Soe many more dayes and nights, sumers and winters; a repetition of ye same pleasures, but wth less pleasure and relish every day; a returne of ye same or greater paines and troubles, but wth less patience and strength to beare them. These and ye like considerations I use to entertaine my selfe wthall, not only wth contentment but comfort, but though wth a great inequality of temper at severall times, and wth much mixture of human frailty wch will always stick to us while wee are in this world; however, by these kind of thoughts death becomes more familier to us, and we shall be able by degrees to bring our mindes close up to it wthout starting at it. The greatest tenderness I find in my selfe is in regard to some neare relations, especialy the deare and constant companion of my life; wch, I must confess, doth very sencibly touch me, but then I consider, and soe I hope will they alsoe, yt this separation will be but for a little while; and though I shall leave them in a bad world, yet, under ye care and protection of a good God, who can be more and better than all other relations, and will certinly be soe to those who love him and hope in his mercy. I shall not nede to advise you what to doe, wt use to make of this time of your visitation. I have reason to believe yt you have been carefull in ye time of your health to prepare for this evill day, and have been conversant in those bookes wch give ye best directions to this purpose, and have not as too many doe putt of ye great work of your life to ye end of it; and then you have nothing now to doe, but as well as you can, under your presant weekness and paine, to renew repentance for all y errors and miscariages of your life to y' end; ernestly to beg God's pardon and forgiveness of them for his sake who is ye propitiation for our sins; to comfort yourselfe in ye goodness and promises of God, and the hopes of yt happiness wch you are ready to enter into, and in ye meantime to exercise faith and patience for a litell while, and be of good currage since you see y land. The storm which you are in now will be quickly over, and it will be as if it had never ben or rather ye remembrance of it will be a pleasure. I doe not use to write such long letters; but I doe heartily compassionate your case, and should be glad if I could suggest anything yt might help to mittigate your trouble and make yt sharp and rough way smooth and easy. I pray God to fitt us boath for yt great change wch we must once undergoe, and if wee be in any good measure fitt for it, sooner or later makes no great differance. I commend you to the Father of Mercy and ye God of all consolation, beeceching him to increse your faith and patience, and to stand by you in your last and great conflict, yt when you walke through ye valley of ye shadow of death you may feare no evill, and when your heart failes, and your strength failes, you may find him y strength of your heart and your portion for ever. Farewell, my good friend, and while wee are heare let us pray for one another, yt wee may have a joyfull meeting in another world. I rest You truly affectionat friend JO. TILLOTSON. CAPT. THOMAS SAVERY. At the meeting of the Ashmolean Society of Oxford, held on the 11th of February, Professor Rigaud read a paper on Capt. Thomas Savery, from which we learn, that hitherto no biographer has collected any account of this remarkable man, although the invention of his Steam-engine was destined to form a new era in the civil history of the world. He was descended from an old and most respectable family in the south of Devon, the Saverys having been active in promoting the revolution of 1688, were especially noticed by King William the Third. He was probably born in that part of the country about the middle of the seventeenth century; but the time and place of his birth are not exactly known. He was by profession a military engineer. Mechanics appear to have been his favourite study, and, as he pursued them practically, he was able to form a body of workmen to execute his various plans. He had a patent for his steam engine in 1698, and the exclusive privilege of constructing it was confirmed to him in 1699, by Act of Parliament. Desaguliers has unjustly accused him of having derived his plans from the Marquis of Worcester; but all writers have acknowledged that he was the first who ever constructed an engine of this kind, which possessed any great and practical utility; and it must be stated, that the experiments, in 1690, of Papin (to whom it has been attempted to transfer the honour of the invention) were not productive The of any useful results, till followed out in England, in the beginning of the following century. It is of no consequence, whether Savery was, or was not, acquainted with these experiments, for he worked on essentially different principles. His moving power was the elasticity of steam, to which our engineers have again returned, since Watt demonstrated the great advantage of it; whereas Papin used the pressure of the atmosphere (which can never exceed a few pounds on the square inch of the piston), and steam was only a subordinate agent, by which he procured a vacuum. arrangement, also, of the different parts of Savery's engine, and particularly the means he used for condensing the steam, are all his own, and mark him for a man of truly inventive genius. It is said that Savery joined in a patent with Newcomen and Cawley for the atmospheric engine; but this appears to be a mistake, since no traces of such an instrument have been found at the Rolls: he took out a patent, however, in 1686, for polishing plate glass and for rowing vessels with paddle wheels, and, in 1706, for a double bellows to produce a continuous blast. He published, in 1698, Navigation Improved; in 1702, The Miners' Friend *; and in 1705, a translation, in folio, of Coehorn's Fortification. This last was dedicated to Prince George of Denmark, to whom he was indebted, that same year, for the office of treasurer to the sick and wounded. He is understood to have accumulated a considerable fortune; but he died in 1715, without children, and left every thing to his wife. The will was proved, but she did not live to take possession of the property, and much of it is supposed, even at the present time, to remain unappropriated. * This is now a very rare volume. It is in the British Museum. In the present day of science, and of scientific mining, in particular, a republication might be very useful; and it would be rendered infinitely more valuable if the Professor of Astronomy (the only person we now know who is calculated, from his love of minute research, and the vast accumulation he has made of materials, to do justice to neglected scientific biography) would prefix his notices of the author and his invention. -Oxford Herald. POETRY. SONNETS TO SPENSER. SONNET I. WHO would the gentleness of Nature blame, SONNET II. As erst on Mulla's banks a minstrel strung SONNET 11. Lend me thy lute, and I will sing thy praise, *" On her green lap was Nature's darling laid." GRAY. |