m of epic poetry.

It is well known, that Milton never enjoyed in his lifetime the
reputation which he deserved. His Paradise Lost was long neglected:
prejudices against an apologist for the regicides, and against a work
not wholly purged from the cant of former times, kept the ignorant world
from perceiving the prodigious merit of that performance. Lord Somers,
by encouraging a good edition of it, about twenty years after the
author's death, first brought it into request; and Tonson, in his
dedication of a smaller edition, speaks of it as a work just beginning
to be known. Even during the prevalence of Milton's party, he seems
never to have been much regarded, and Whitlocke talks of one Milton, as
he calls him, a blind man, who was employed in translating a treaty with
Sweden into Latin. These forms of expression are amusing to posterity,
who consider how obscure Whitlocke himself though lord-keeper and
ambassador, and indeed a man of great abilities and merit, has become in
comparison of Milton.

It is not strange that Milton received no encouragement after the
restoration: it is more to be admired that he escaped with his life.
Many of the cavaliers blamed extremely that lenity towards him, which
was so honorable in the king, and so advantageous to posterity. It is
said, that he had saved Davenant's life during the protectorship; and
Davenant in return afforded him like protection after the restoration;
being sensible that men of letters ought always to regard their sympathy
of taste as a more powerful band of union, than any difference of party
or opinion as a source of animosity. It was during a state of poverty,
blindness, disgrace, danger, and old age, that Milton composed his
wonderful poem, which not only surpassed all the performances of his
contemporaries, but all the compositions which had flowed from his
pen during the vigor of his age and the height of his prosperity. This
circumstance is not the least remarkable of all those which attend that
great genius. He died in 1674, aged sixty-six.

Waller was the first refiner of English poetry, at least of English
rhyme; but his performances still abound with many faults, and, what is
more material, they contain but feeble and superficial beauties. Gayety,
wit, and ingenuity are their ruling character: they aspire not to the
sublime; still less to the pathetic. They treat of love, without making
us feel any tenderness; and abound in panegyric, without exciting