CONVERSATION BETWEEN MR. COWLEY AND MR. MILTON. 45 and nothing would serve him but one of the Miss Germains. Lord Cæsar swore like a trooper; but there was no help for it. Nap had twice put executions in his principal residence, and had refused to discharge the latter of the two, till he had extorted a bond from his Lordship, which compelled him to comply. THE END OF THE FIRST PART. A CONVERSATION BETWEEN MR. ABRAHAM COWLEY AND MR. JOHN MILTON, TOUCHING THE GREAT CIVIL WAR. SET DOWN BY A GENTLEMAN OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE. (august 1824.) "Referre sermones Deorum et Magna modis tenuare parvis."-HORACE. I HAVE thought it good to set down in writing a memorable debate, wherein I was a listener, and two men of pregnant parts and great reputation discoursers; hoping that my friends will not be displeased to have a record both of the strange times through which I have lived, and of the famous men with whom I have conversed. It chanced, in the warm and beautiful spring of the year 1665, a little before the saddest summer that ever London saw, that I went to the Bowling-Green at Piccadilly, whither, at that time, the best gentry made continual resorts. There I met Mr. Cowley, who had lately left Barnelms. There was then a house preparing for him at Chertsey; and, till it should be finished, he had come up for a short time to London, that he might urge a suit to his Grace of Buckingham touching certain lands of her Majesty's, whereof he requested a lease. I had the honour to be familiarly acquainted with that worthy gentleman and most excellent poet, whose death hath been deplored with as general a consent of all Powers that delight in the woods, or in verse, or in love, as was of old that of Daphnis or of Gallus. After some talk, which it is not material to set down at large, concerning his suit and his vexations at the court, where indeed his honesty did him more harm than his parts could do him good, I entreated him to dine with me at my lodging in the Temple, which he most courteously promised. And, that so eminent a guest might not lack a better entertainment than cooks or vintners can provide, I sent to the house of Mr. John Milton, in the Artillery-Walk, to beg that he would also be my guest. For, though he had been secretary, first to the Council of State, and, after that, to the Protector, and Mr. Cowley had held the same post under the Lord St. Albans in his banishment, I hoped, notwithstanding, that they would think themselves rather united by their common art than divided by their different factions. And so indeed it proved. For, while we sat at table, they talked freely of many men with much civility. Nay, Mr. Milton, and things, as well ancient as modern, who seldom tasted wine, both because of his singular temperance and because of his gout, did more than once pledge Mr. Cowley, who was indeed no hermit in diet. At last, being heated, Mr. Milton begged that I would open the windows. Nay," said I, "if you desire fresh air and coolness, what should hinder us, as the evening is fair, from sailing for an hour on the river? To this they both cheerfully consented; and forth we walked, Mr. Cowley and I leading Mr. Milton between us, to the Temple Stairs. There we took a boat; and thence we were rowed up the river. 66 The wind was pleasant; the evening fine; the sky, the earth, and the water beautiful to look upon. But Mr. Cowley and I held our peace, and said nothing of the gay sights around us, lest we should too feelingly remind Mr. Milton of his calamity; whereof, however, he needed no monitor: for soon he said sadly, "Ah, Mr. Cowley, you are a happy man. What would I now give but for one more look at the sun, and the waters, and the gardens of this fair city!" "I know not," said Mr. Cowley, "whether we ought not rather to envy you for that which makes you to envy others: and that specially in this place, where all eyes which are not closed in blindness ought to become fountains of "Sir, by your favour," said Mr. Milton, "though, from many circumstances both of body and of fortune, I might plead fairer excuses for despondency than yourself, I yet look not so sadly either on the past or on the future. That a deluge hath passed over this our nation, I deny not. But I hold it not to be such a deluge as that of which you speak; but rather a blessed flood, like those of the Nile, which in its overflow doth indeed wash away ancient landmarks, and confound boundaries, and sweep away dwellings, yea, doth give birth to many foul and dangerous reptiles. Yet hence is the fullness of the granary, the beauty of the garden, the nurture of all living things. tears. What can we look upon which | our people the old loyalty. These evil is not a memorial of change and sorrow, times, like the great deluge, have overof fair things vanished, and evil things whelmed and confused all earthly done? When I see the gate of White- things. And, even as those waters, hall, and the stately pillars of the Ban- though at last they abated, yet, as the queting House, I cannot choose but learned write, destroyed all trace of think of what I have there seen in the garden of Eden, so that its place former days, masques, and pageants, and hath never since been found, so hath dances, and smiles, and the waving of this opening of all the flood-gates of graceful heads, and the bounding of political evil effaced all marks of the delicate feet. And then I turn to ancient political paradise." thoughts of other things, which even to remember makes me to blush and weep; of the great black scaffold, and the axe and block, which were placed before those very windows; and the voice seems to sound in mine ears, the lawless and terrible voice, which cried out that the head of a king was the head of a traitor. There stands Westminster Hall, which who can look upon, and not tremble to think how time, and change, and death confound the councils of the wise, and beat down the weapons of the mighty? How have I seen it surrounded with tens of thousands of petitioners crying for justice and privilege! How have I heard it shake with fierce and proud words, which made the hearts of the people burn within them! Then it is blockaded by dragoons, and cleared by pikemen. And they who have conquered their master go forth trembling at the word of their servant. And yet a little while, and the usurper comes forth from it, in his robe of ermine, with the golden staff in one hand and the Bible in the other, amidst the roaring of the guns and the shouting of the people. And yet again a little while, and the doors are thronged with multitudes in black, and the hearse and the plumes come forth; and the tyrant is borne, in more than royal pomp, to a royal sepulchre. A few days more, and his head is fixed to rot on the pinnacles of that very hall where he sat on a throne in his life, and lay in state after his death. When I think on all these things, to look round me makes me sad at heart. True it is that God hath restored to us our old laws, and the rightful line of our kings. Yet, how I know not, but it seems to me that something is wanting-that our court hath not the old gravity, nor "I remember well, Mr. Cowley, what you have said concerning these things in your Discourse of the Government of Oliver Cromwell, which my friend Elwood read to me last year. Truly, for elegance and rhetoric, that essay is to be compared with the finest tractates of Isocrates and Cicero. But neither that nor any other book, nor any events, which with most men have, more than any book, weight and authority, have altered my opinion, that, of all assemblies that ever were in this world, the best and the most useful was our Long Parliament. I speak not this as wishing to provoke debate; which neither yet do I decline." Mr. Cowley was, as I could see, a little nettled. Yet, as he was a man of a kind disposition and a most refined courtesy, he put a force upon himself, and answered with more vehemence and quickness indeed than was his wont, yet not uncivilly. Surely, Mr. Milton, you speak not as you think. I am indeed one of those who believe that God hath reserved to himself the 66 "Men have often risen up against But when before was it known that concessions were met with importunities, graciousness with insults, the open palm of bounty with the clenched fist of malice? Was it like trusty delegates of the Commons of England, and faithful stewards of their liberty and their wealth, to engage them for such causes in civil war, which both to liberty and to wealth is of all things the most hostile. Evil indeed must be the disease which is not more tolerable than such a medicine. Those who, even to save a nation from tyrants, censure of kings, and that their crimes their vengeance all who had defended and oppressions are not to be resisted the rights of his crown, his honour by the hands of their subjects. Yet must have been ruined if he had comcan I easily find excuse for the violence plied. Is it not therefore plain that of such as are stung to madness by they desired these things only in order grievous tyranny. But what shall we say that, by refusing, his Majesty might for these men? Which of their just de- give them a pretence for war? mands was not granted? Which even of their cruel and unreasonable requisi-fraud, against cruelty, against rapine. tions, so as it were not inconsistent with all law and order, was refused? Had they not sent Strafford to the block and Laud to the Tower? Had they not destroyed the Courts of the High Commission and the Star Chamber? Had they not reversed the proceedings confirmed by the voices of the judges of England, in the matter of ship-money? Had they not taken from the king his ancient and most lawful power touching the order of knighthood? Had they not provided that, after their dissolution, triennial parliaments should be holden, and that their own power should con-excite it to civil war do in general but tinue till of their great condescension they should be pleased to resign it themselves? What more could they ask? Was it not enough that they had taken from their king all his oppressive powers, and many that were most salutary? Was it not enough that they had filled his council-board with his enemies, and his prisons with his adherents? Was it not enough that they had raised a furious multitude, to shout and swagger daily under the very windows of his royal palace? Was it not enough that they had taken from him the most blessed prerogative of princely mercy; that, complaining of intolerance themselves, they had denied all toleration to others; that they had urged, against forms, scruples childish as those of any formalist; that they had persecuted the least remnant of the popish rites with the fiercest bitterness of the popish spirit? Must they besides all this have full power to command his armies, and to massacre his friends? "For military command, it was never known in any monarchy, nay, in any well ordered republic, that it was committed to the debates of a large and unsettled assembly. For their other requisition, that he should give up to minister to it the same miserable kind 66 What further could they These questions," said Mr. Milton, austerely, "have indeed often deceived the ignorant; but that Mr. Cowley should have been so beguiled, I marvel. You ask what more the Parliament could desire? I will answer you in one word, security. What are votes, and statutes, and resolutions? They have no eyes to see, no hands to strike and avenge. They must have some safeguard from without. Many things, therefore, which in themselves were peradventure hurtful, was this Parliament constrained to ask, lest otherwise good laws and precious rights should men. -came so easily from his lips, and dwelt so short a time on his mind, that they were as little to be trusted as the 'By these hilts' of an Alsatian dicer. be without defence. Nor did they purses of his Commons to support the want a great and signal example of revels of Buckingham or the processions this danger. I need not remind you of Laud, he had assured them that, that, many years before, the two Houses as he was a gentleman and a king, he had presented to the king the Petition would sacredly preserve their rights. of Right, wherein were set down all He had pawned those solemn pledges, the most valuable privileges of the and pawned them again and again; people of this realm. Did not Charles but when had he redeemed them? accept it? Did he not declare it to beUpon my faith,'—" Upon my sacred law? Was it not as fully enacted as word,'-'Upon the honour of a prince,' ever were any of those bills of the Long Parliament concerning which you spoke? And were those privileges therefore enjoyed more fully by the people? No: the king did from that "Therefore it is that I praise this time redouble his oppressions as if to Parliament for what else I might have avenge himself for the shame of having condemned. If what he had granted been compelled to renounce them. had been granted graciously and reaThen were our estates laid under dily, if what he had before promised shameful impositions, our houses ran- had been faithfully observed, they sacked, our bodies imprisoned. Then could not be defended. It was because was the steel of the hangman blunted he had never yielded the worst abuse with mangling the ears of harmless without a long struggle, and seldom Then our very minds were fet-without a large bribe; it was because tered, and the iron entered into our he had no sooner disentangled himself souls. Then we were compelled to from his troubles than he forgot his hide our hatred, our sorrow, and our promises; and, more like a villainous scorn, to laugh with hidden faces at huckster than a great king, kept both the mummery of Laud, to curse under the prerogative and the large price our breath the tyranny of Wentworth. which had been paid to him to forego Of old time it was well and nobly said, it; it was because of these things that by one of our kings, that an Englishman it was necessary and just to bind with ought to be free as his thoughts. Our forcible restraints one who could be prince reversed the maxim; he strove bound neither by law nor honour. to make our thoughts as much slaves as Nay, even while he was making those ourselves. To sneer at a Romish pa- very concessions of which you speak, geant, to miscall a lord's crest, were he betrayed his deadly hatred against crimes for which there was no mercy. the people and their friends. Not only These were all the fruits which we did he, contrary to all that ever was gathered from those excellent laws of deemed lawful in England, order that the former Parliament, from these members of the Commons House of solemn promises of the king. Were Parliament should be impeached of we to be deceived again? Were we high treason at the bar of the Lords; again to give subsidies, and receive no- thereby violating both the trial by thing but promises? Were we again jury and the privileges of the House; to make wholesome statutes, and then but, not content with breaking the leave them to be broken daily and law by his ministers, he went himself hourly, until the oppressor should have armed to assail it. In the birth-place squandered another supply, and should and sanctuary of freedom, in the House be ready for another perjury? You itself, nay, in the very chair of the ask what they could desire which he speaker, placed for the protection of had not already granted. Let me ask free speech and privilege, he sat, rolling of you another question. What pledge his eyes round the benches, searching could he give which he had not already for those whose blood he desired, and violated? From the first year of his singling out his opposers to the reign, whenever he had need of the slaughter. This most foul outrage fails. Then again for the old arts. thus of that good king. Most unThen come gracious messages. Then happy indeed he was, in that he come courteous speeches. Then is reigned at a time when the spirit of again mortgaged his often forfeited the then living generation was for honour. He will never again violate freedom, and the precedents of former the laws. He will respect their rights ages for prerogative. His case was as if they were his own. He pledges the dignity of his crown; that crown which had been committed to him for the weal of his people, and which he never named, but that he might the more easily delude and oppress them. "The power of the sword, I grant you, was not one to be permanently possessed by parliament. Neither did that parliament demand it as a permanent possession. They asked it only for temporary security. Nor can I see on what conditions they could safely make peace with that false and wicked king, save such as would deprive him of all power to injure. like to that of Christopher Columbus, If he had "For civil war, that it is an evil I dispute not. But that it is the greatest of evils, that I stoutly deny. It doth indeed appear to the misjudging to be a worse calamity than bad government, "Never was there a more gracious because its miseries are collected to- prince, or a more proper gentleman. In gether within a short space and time, every pleasure he was temperate, in and may easily at one view be taken in conversation mild and grave, in friendand perceived. But the misfortunes of ship constant, to his servants liberal, to nations ruled by tyrants, being distri- his queen faithful and loving, in battle buted over many centuries and many brave, in sorrow and captivity resolved, places, as they are of greater weight in death most Christian and forand number, so are they of less dis-giving. play. When the Devil of tyranny hath gone into the body politic he departs not but with struggles, and foaming, and great convulsions. Shall he, therefore, vex it for ever, lest, in going out, he for a moment tear and rend it? Truly this argument touching the evils of war would better become my friend Elwood, or some other of the people called Quakers, than a courtier and a cavalier. It applies no more to this war than to all others, as well foreign as domestic, and, in this war, no more to the Houses than to the king; nay not so much, since he by a little sincerity and moderation might have rendered that needless which their duty to God and man then enforced them to do." "For his oppressions, let us look at the former history of this realm. James was never accounted a tyrant. Elizabeth is esteemed to have been the mother of her people. Were they less arbitrary? Did they never lay hands on the purses of their subjects but by Act of Parliament? Did they never confine insolent and disobedient men but in due course of law? Was the court of Star Chamber less active? Were the ears of libellers more safe? I pray you, let not king Charles be thus dealt with. It was enough that in his life he was tried for an alleged breach of laws which none ever heard named till they were discovered for his destruction. Let not his fame be treated as was his sacred and anointed "Pardon me, Mr. Milton," said Mr. body. Let not his memory be tried by Cowley "I grieve to hear you speak | principles found out ex post facto. Let E |