fruits, and the
coolness of shady fountains. His conception of love unites all the
voluptuousness of the Oriental harem, and all the gallantry of the
chivalric tournament with all the pure and quiet affection of an English
fireside. His poetry reminds us of the miracles of Alpine scenery. Nooks
and dells, beautiful as fairyland, are embosomed in its most rugged and
gigantic elevations. The roses and myrtles bloom unchilled on the verge
of the avalanche.

Traces, indeed, of the peculiar character of Milton may be found in all
his works; but it is most strongly displayed in the Sonnets. Those
remarkable poems have been undervalued by critics who have not
understood their nature. They have no epigrammatic point. There is none
of the ingenuity of Filicaja in the thought, none of the hard and
brilliant enamel of Petrarch in the style. They are simple but majestic
records of the feelings of the poet; as little tricked out for the
public eye as his diary would have been. A victory, an expected attack
upon the city, a momentary fit of depression or exultation, a jest
thrown out against one of his books, a dream which for a short time
restored to him that beautiful face over which the grave had closed
forever, led him to musings, which, without effort, shaped themselves
into verse. The unity of sentiment and severity of style which
characterize these little pieces remind us of the Greek Anthology, or
perhaps still more of the Collects of the English Liturgy. The noble
poem on the massacres of Piedmont is strictly a collect in verse.

The Sonnets are more or less striking, according as the occasions which
gave birth to them are more or less interesting. But they are, almost
without exception, dignified by a sobriety and greatness of mind to
which we know not where to look for a parallel. It would, indeed, be
scarcely safe to draw any decided inferences as to the character of a
writer from passages directly egotistical. But the qualities which we
have ascribed to Milton, though perhaps most strongly marked in those
parts of his works which treat of his personal feelings, are
distinguishable in every page, and impart to all his writings, prose and
poetry, English, Latin, and Italian, a strong family likeness.

His public conduct was such as was to be expected from a man of spirit
so high and of an intellect so powerful. He lived at one of the most
memorable eras in the history of mankind, at the very crisis of the
great conflic