UC-NRLF $B EST h7h Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/areopagiticaOOmiltriGh €lnmhu '§xm §txm MILTON AREOPAGITICA « /OffN W. HALES HENRY FROWDE, M.A. i»UBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OP OXFORD LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK ^hxtnban ^r^ss Series MILTON AREOPAGITICA EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BV JOHN W. HALES, M.A., Professor of English Lattgitage and Literature at King's College, London % Formerly Fellow and Assistant Tutor of Christ's College, Cambridge; Barristtr-at'Larw tif Lincoln's Inn; Editor of "^Longer English Poems t' Co-Editor of the 'London Series of English Classics, difc New Edition AT THE CLARENDON PRESS M DCCC XCVIII \All rights reserved] PRINTED AT THE CLARENDON PRESS BY HORACE HART, M.A. PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY ^3B ajxju INTRODUCTION. SECTION I. THE YEAR (1644). Of the circumstances under which the Areopagitica was written, Milton has himself given an account in his Second Defence of the People of England (Defensio Secunda pro Populo Anglicano contra infamem libelliim anonymum cut titulus Regit Sanguinis Clamor ad Cceluin adversus Parricidas Anglicanos), Jij_ihat work, to refute fully the calumnies heaped on his name by his enemy, he gives a rapid sketch of his past life. After speaking of his earlier days, he mentions his travels abroad, and then how, coming home, he was drawn into the great struggle that he found prevailing, or beginning to prevail. * Then pursuing my former route through France I returned to my native country, after an absence of one year and about three months, at the time when Charles, having broken the peace, was renewing what is called the episcopal war with the Scots, in which the Royalists being routed in the first encounter, and the English being universally and justly disaffected, the necessity of his affairs at last obliged him to convene a parlia- ment. As soon as I was able I hired a spacious house in the city, for myself and my books ; where I again, with rapture, resumed my literary pursuits, and where I calmly awaited the issue of the contest, which I trusted to the wise c onduct of Providence, and to the courage of the people.] The vigour of the Parliament had begun to humble the pride of the bishops. As long as the liberty of speech was no longer subject to con- trol, all mouths began to be opened against the bishops. They said that it was unjust that they alone should differ from the model of other Reformed Churches ; that the government of the Church should be according to the pattern of other churches, and particularly the word of God. This awakened all my at- tention and my zeal. I saw that a way was opening for the estabhshment of real liberty; that the foundation was laying for the deliverance of man from the yoke of slavery and super- stition ; that the principles of religion, which were the first M601490 vi INTRODUCTION. objects of our care, would exert a salutary influence on the manners and constitution of the republic. And as I had from my youth studied the distinctions between religious and civil rights, I perceived that, if ever I wished to be of use, I ought at least not to be wanting to my country, to the Church, and to so many of my fellow-Christians, in a crisis of so much danger. ^ I therefore detenu ined to relinquish the other pursuits in which I was engaged, and to transfer the whole force of my talents and my industry to this one important object. I accordingly wrote two books to a friend concerning the Reformation of the Church of England. Afterwards when two bishops of superior dis- tinction vindicated their privileges against some principal ministers, I thought that on those topics, to the consideration of which I was led solely by my love of truth and my reverence for Christianity, I should not probably write worse than those who were contending only for their own emoluments and usurp- ations. I therefore answered the one in two books, of which the first is inscribed * Concerning Prelatical Episcopacy,' and the other * Concerning the Mode of Ecclesiastical Government' ; and I replied to the other in some animadversions, and soon after in an apology. On this occasion it was supposed that I brought a timely succour to the ministers, who were hardly a match for the eloquence of their opponents, and from that time I was actively employed in refuting any answers that appeared. When the bishops could no longer resist the multitude of their assailants, I had leisure to turn my thoughts to other subjects ; to the promotion of real and substantial Uberty, which is rather to be sought from within than from without ; and whose existence depends, not so much on the terror of the sword as on sobriety of conduct and integrity of life. When, therefore, r^ perceived that there were three species of liberty which are \ essential to' the happiness of social life — religious, domestic, and Icivil ; and as I had already written concerning the first, and the magistrates were strenuously active in obtaining the third, I | determined to turn my attention to the second, or the domestic \ species. yAs they seemed to involve three material questions — \ the conditions of the conjugal tie, the education of children, and j the free publications of the thoughts — I made them objects of \ distinct consideration. I explained my sentiments, not only | concerning the solemnization of matrimony, but the dissolution^ j if circumstances rendered it necessary, and I drew my argu- 1 ments from the divine law, which Christ did not abolish, or publish another more grievous than that of Moses. I stated my own opinions, and those of others, concerning the exclusive exception of fornication, which our illustrious Selden has since, INTRODUCTION, vii in his " Hebrew Wife," more copiously discussed ; for he, in vain, makes a vaunt of liberty in the senate, or in the forum, who languishes under the vilest servitude to an inferior at home. On this subject, therefore, I published some books, which were more particularly necessary at that time, when man and wife were often the most inveterate foes ; when the man often staid to take care of his children at home, while the mother of the family was seen in the camp of the enemy, threatening death and destruction to her husband. I then dis- cussed the principles of education in a summary manner, but sufficiently copious for those who attend seriously to the subject, than which nothing can be more necessary to principle the minds of men in virtue, the only genuine source of political and individual liberty, the only true safeguard of states, the bulwark of their prosperity and renown, j Lastly, I wrote my " Areopa-' gitica" after the true Attic style, in order to deliver the press from the restraints with which it was encumbered ; that the power oi determining what was true and what was false, what ought to be published and what to be suppressed, might no longer be entrusted to a few illiterate and illiberal individuals, who refused their sanction to any work which contained views ; or sentiments at all above the level of the vulgar superstition. On the last species of civil liberty I said nothing, because I saw that sufficient attention was paid to it by the magistrates ; nor did I write anything on the prerogative of the Crown till the, King, voted an enemy by the parliament, and vanquished in the field, was summoned before the tribunal which condemned] him to lose his head^' Such is the account Milton himself gives of his writings jusl before the outbreak of the Civil War and during the continuance of it. The order of them is not indeed minutely accurate ; for the * some books ' on the subject of divorce were not all pub- lished before he proceeded to the questions of Education and Unlicensed Printing ; but it probably represents precisely enough the succession in which the various subjects discussed engaged his attention. The year of his life that especially concerns us here isi644^ It was in the November of that year that i\iQ Areopagitzca was published. Besides this master- piece, there appeared also these other works : — In Februaiy, a second edition of his first Divorce treatise (The Doctrine and * See Milton's Prose Works, the one-volume edition, pp. 934, 935. For the original Latin, see ibid. pp. 719, 720. viii INTRODUCTION. Discipline of Divorce restored to the good of both sexes from the bondage of Canon Law and other Mistakes to the true meaning of Scripture in the Law and Gospel compared, where- in also are set down the bad consequences of abolishing or condemning as sin that which the law of God allows and Christ abolished not) ; in June, his tractate Of Education to Master Samuel Hartlib ; in July, his Second Divorce Book (The Judgment of Martin Bucer concerning Divorce, written to Edward the Sixth in his second book of the Kingdom of Christ, and now Englished ; wherein a late book restoring the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce is here confirmed and justified by the authority of Martin Bucer). So that the year 1644 was one of memorable activity in Milton's life. This activity, it will have been noticed, was all in the direc- tion of certain social and other reforms. It was all, as Milton himself puts it, in behalf of * liberty ' — of the * domestic species ' of ^ liberty.' ' Liberty's defence ' was always his * noble task ' ; and there was never a time in his career when he strove with more fervent hope, or more brilliant skill, to secure for his age the freedom without which, as it seemed to him, life was cramped and starved, and the world a mere prison. In the ^terest of this great cause he had abandoned for a while those high studies to which his previous years had been devoted. Of his poetical writings only a few sonnets belong to this period of his life. * God, by His secretary Conscience,' enjoined a far different * service,' and * it were sad for me if I should draw back-^ This particular year formed a crisis in Milton's life. It wit- nessed the culmination of his hopefulness. There is especially noticeable in the Areopagitica a certain sanguineness and an- ticipation, which subsequent events were bitterly to reprove. In fact Milton was yet but faintly conscious of the immense discrepancies between his age and himself. To him, when the .Long Parliament met in the autumn of 1640, it had seemed that a new day was dawning for England and for mankind. * The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return.* And he had hailed with a profound exultation the opening acts INTRODUCTION. ix of that great assembly. When the Star Chamber and its kindred iniquities were suppressed, it seemed once more possible to breathe, and hopes sprang up in him of a new and perfecter reformation. This confidence appeared justified by the fall of the bishops, who had identified themselves with what was held to be the cause of tyranny. Surely there was now at hand a splendid regeneration. As one thinks of Milton in those hours of elation, there rises before the mind the image of another poet, whose experience was strangely similar. Words- worth, on the tiptoe of expectation at the beginning of the French Revolution, reminds one sadly of Milton just a century and a half before. * Oh ! pleasant exercise of liope and joy. For m ghty were the auxiliars which then stood Upon our side, we who were strong in love I Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive. But to be young was very heaven I Oh ! times In which the meagre, stale, forbidden ways Of custom, law, and statute took at once The attraction of a country in romance I When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights, When most intent on making of herself A prime Enchantress — to assist the work Which then was going forward in her name.' The Areopagitica reflects Milton still sanguine a^d confident,) It is true that, as we shall see, the work in fact originated from what might well have taught the writer that his dreams of a complete emancipation were not to be reaHsed ; but Milton could not recognise this conclusion, so Mame and impotent.* He could not yet bring himself to beHeve that the dawn, whose Vising he had greeted with such joy, was presently to be over- cast — that the sun was not to rise higher, but to be stayed in its bright course, as by some malignant Joshua, and presently blurred and obscured with mist and fog. As we see him in this Speech to the Parliament of England he is filled with pride and with hope. No nobler panegyric has been pronounced on our country than that he here pr onounces with his richest eloquence : — K^r^ ^> ^ey inflame him with a noble rage \ and so, in a very splendour of wrath, he rouses himself to strike them down. He seems 'larger than human,' as he advances to the fray, and the air around is filled with lightnings, and a clear way cleft in front of him with thunderbolts no shields can stay. ^^ Si Sid -npon&xojv KeKopvO/jiivos aXOom X^^'^V • . . . ^f Ti9 avTOV ayoL opfir) OeioTepa. (f)V(T€i yap, da 0iXe, epecTTL tls (J)l\o' ao^ia Tjj Tov dvbpos biavola, * I think he deserves a higher esti- mate than we have given Lysias as to natural gifts, and further that he is compounded with a nobler nature ; so that it would prove no wonder, as he advances in years, if in respect of the very rhetoric, which he now takes in hand, he should excel al? who have ever yet applied themselves to it as if they were scarcely children at it ; and further, should such success not suffice him, if a certain diviner impulse should lead him to greater things ; for, my friend, there is an inborn philosophical power in his intellect.' I sokrates scarcely fulfilled this high prophecy ; but as a rhetorician he became supremely eminent. Physical weak- ness incapacitated him from the public practice of his art ; but he became the most famous teacher of his day, and, what more nearly concerns us, the great composer of Reading Speeches, which enjoyed a wide circulation throughout Greece. Especially noticeable was he for connecting oratory and politics ; for be^ fore his time the art of speaking, * with the exception of the panegyrical species, had hitherto been cultivated chiefly for the contest of the courts \' The drift of his Areopagiticos has already been quoted from Milton himself. Its purpose was in fact to bring back to Athens * See Lewis' MUller's Hist, of the Literature of Ancient Greece, p. 505. INTRODUCTION, XXXi the old democracy. It was written *in the beginning of the Philippic times V at a critical period in Attic history, t^s TroXews €1/ Kivdvvois ov(rT)s 17 (r(f)a\€poi}s avrrj tcdv npayfju'iTCJv Ka^eoTcoro)!/, though men shut their eyes to the perils that encompassed them^ ; and he urges that the only way to avert future dangers, and de- liver themselves from those already present, is to resolve to recall the democracy, * which Solon, who proved so great a friend of the people ordained by law, and Kleisthenes, who cast out the tyrants and brought back the people, once more established afresh.* This was not perhaps the program of a great statesman, but rather of a visionary, or a * professor ' ; for decayed forms of government are not so easily recalled to life. Certainly, the wails of a rhetorician over the pulseless body have no power to re-inspire it Isokrates proceeds to insist more particularly on the revival and reinstatement of the Court of the Areopagos ^, "and hence the name of his discourse. He praises its composition, and the functions it exercised, which he sums up as * the caring for good order' (tVi/xcXcio-^at rrjs cv/coo-ftia? ) *. Between this speech and that of Milton, as respects subject matter, there is clearly but a slight resemblance ; there is rather an opposition ; for Isokrates aims at recalling an interfering power, Milton at removing one. What recommended the name to Milton is, as has already been remarked,. the likeness between his position and that of the Greek. He too * wrote' *from his "private house' * a discourse' on a high political question. As Isokrates addressed the Bould, so Milton the Parliament. But it cannot be said that Milton was happy in christening his treatise as he did. The name is, and will be, a perpetual stumbling- * 'Eypaiprj 5' 6 K6yos iv dpxcus raiv ^iKinmKuiv xpovcuv. See the ^TitoOeais dvQJVVflOV ypafJLfMTlKOV. ^ EvpiaKQj yoLp TavTrjv fjiovrjv Slv y€vofi€Vrjv Kal ruv fjieWSvTOoi/ Kivhvvojv diror poirriv Kal ruv trapcvrajv KaKwv dtraWay^v, rjv kO^X-qaoJix^v eKcivrju rrjv brjfiOKpaTiav avaXa^iiv, fjv 'S.oXoiv fieu 6 drjfxoTiKcuraTOS yivofXivos kvop.o- 6€Trj(T€y K\(ia0€vrjs 8' 6 tovs Tvpdvvovs iK^aXwv Kol rbv dijfwv Karayayuiv -nd\iv ff dpxrjs KaTiarrjatv. Isokrates' Areop. 1 43 a. ' On the Areopagos see Smith's Diet, of Antiquities ; Miiller's Disserta- tions on the Eumenides of Aeschylus; Hermann's Manual of Grecian Antiquities; Grote's Greece, ii. 281, &c. * See a quotation from this same speech in Ascham's Scholcmaster, p. 58, ed. Arber. .-*- XXXii INTRODUCTION, block to the Englishman. How it must have made, and how it makes now, the ordinary Briton * stare and gasp' ! It is essen- tially an unpopular title, and may be taken as a sign of Milton's indifference to merely popular approval. He cared for * fit au- dience, though few' {Par, Lost, vii. 31) ; to 'be heard only,' if it might be, by the * elegant and learned reader, to whom princi- pally for a while I shall beg leave I may address myself {Reason of Church Government, p. 43 of Works) ; to 'have the good wishes of here and there some,' ' by whom, ever "SO few though they be, I, for my part, would rather be approved, than by countless com- panies of unskilled ones, in whom is nothing of mind, or right reason, or sound judgment ' (Prolusion I) ; ' not to seduce the simple and ilHterate,' but *to find out the choicest and the learnedest, who have this high gift of wisdom to answer solidly or to be convinced.' For the rest there is but little likeness between the styles of the two works. But in this respect, too, a sharp contrast, — that of Isokrates is exquisitely refined and clear, the marble is smoothed to the utmost — * ne quid possit per leve morari.' The immense care he bestowed upon the composition of his orations, and the time he spent in working them out and polishing them, may be inferred from the statement that he was engaged for a period of ten, and, according to others, of fifteen years upon his Panegyric Oration ^ The style is the man, and Isokrates' style well reflects Isokrates. Like our poet Pope, he says perspicu- ously and well what he has to say, but then it is not so very much. The water is pellucid, but then it is not deep. With Milton it was far different. He had more to say than he could say. His thoughts rush upon him in a throng that he can at times scarcely order and control. His utterance is almost choked. He brought to his work an immense mass of knowledge, such as won for him the title of 'learned' in an age of learned men ; and at the same time, as we have seen, the profoundest depths of a profound nature were stirred and moved by the character of his enterprise. No wonder then, if at times his eloquence wellnigh overmastered him, bursting forth torrent-like, or 1 See Smith's larger Diet, of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology,. 8. V. • hocrates/ and the reference there given to Quintilian, x. 4. 4. INTRODUCTION, xxxiii flashing out in a fiery shower that would not be confined. The fact is that for the expression of such a genius as that of Milton, a genius so quick and fertile by nature, so splen- didly cultivated and enriched by long and eager study, metre was absolutely necessary, not only as its natural form but for the very restraints it imposed. He judged quite justly of himself, when, called by Duty, as he thought, to write prose, he felt himself comparatively inefficient and maimed. *If I were wise only to mine own ends,' he wrote, * I should not choose this manner of writing, wherein knowing myself inferior to myself, led by the genial power of nature to another task, 1 have the use, as I may account, but of my left hand\' It was not natural for him to write in *the pedestrian manner.' Of him Quintilian's words of Plato are true, but they scarcely say enough : * Plato multo supra prosam orationem et quam pedes- trem (Trcfo'i/) Graeci vocant surgit.' Beneath all his prose periods the fire of his poetry may be seen gleaming, and ever and anon it breaks through and blazes up supreme. It is an incalculable loss to our poetical literature that Milton's part in it is com- paratively so scanty. Poetry was his ^ calling ' ; he had, in his very youth, recognised it to be so ; with a singular devotion and an unparalleled industry he had striven to ripen himself for his work ; his ' clear spirit ' raised * To scorn delights and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon when wc hope to find. And think to burst out into sudden bLze, Comes the blind Fury.* She came to Milton not to * slit the thin-spun life,' but to ap- point him a far different lot from that of which he had fondly dreamt. With * small willingness ' he ventured ' to interrupt the pursuit of no less hopes than these, and leave a calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with cheerful and confident thoughts, to em- bark in a troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes, put from beholding the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of delightful studies.' Occasionally the difficulty found in the style of the Areopagiiica ^ Reason of Church Government, C xxxiv INTKODUCTIOJSr. is due to Milton's attempting a Greek arrangement of the words ; but, most commonly, it is due to the obscurityto which Elizabethan prose, with its periodic structure, was signally liable in the hands of a writer so impetuous and so abundant as Milton. In his use of this periodic structure Milton was no doubt encouraged by the example of Isokrates, who was famous for his full-flowing ex- panded sentences. ' In his earlier labours,' says Miiller, * he took as much pains with this symmetrical structure [the antithetical, previously most cultivated] as any Sophist could have done ; but in the more flourishing period of his art he contrived to melt down the rigidity and stiffness of the antithesis, by breaking through the direct and immediate opposition of sentences, and by marshalling them in successive groups and a longer series.' With him the result, thanks partly to his own nature, as we have said above, and partly to the character of the language in which he wrote — a language in which, through the variety of its inflexions, and, still more, through its richness in particles, or links (SeV/xot), as they were called, complexity is possible with- out intricacy — is not obscurity but clearness. With Milton, it must be allowed, the danger of obscurity is not always avoided The reader had needs be careful, or he will lose the main path, and find himself in what seems at first a hopeless labyrinth. It is easy, however, to exaggerate this peril. Perhaps all that is really needed by the student is great care. Milton's periods are not really mere confused tangles of ornate phraseology, as listening to some critics one might be led to suppose. MiltjDn is the last_greaLwn^ Not a greater change came over our poetry than over our prose in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Dryden's Essays differ in style from Milton's pamphlets as much as \i\s Fables from Para- dise Lost There is no one who does not admire the brilliant transparency of the style of the later writer, and the good ser- vice he did for us in impressing that virtue upon our literature. It would be a narrow criticism, that, fascinated by that sovereign charm, should fail to recognise what is worthy and noble in the older writer. Milton's sentences possess a stately majesty that belongs to a different sphere from that which gave birth to Dry den. INTRODUCTION. XXXV • Another race hath been, and other palms are won.* * There were giants in those days ' ; and let not the generation that succeeds disparage their mighty predecessors. In a sense Milton was the last of the Titans, and his style is Titanic. * Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the Sea.' SECTION IV. THE RESULT. It was not till * after many days ' — not till after his own eyes were closed in death — that the bread Milton cast upon the waters was seen. The Press was not delivered from Licensers till 1694 — Just twenty years after the decease of their great opponent ; just half a century after the publication of the Areopagitica, **^ From the Presbyterians indeed, who were in power in 1644, there was nothing to be hoped. Mention has already been made of the bitter discovery which Milton and kindred free spirits were to have forced upon them — that, in exchanging Convocation for Synod, they had but substituted one tyranny for another. And thus, for all the impassioned appeals of the Areopagiticay the Parliament did not relax the Ordinance, which was, in fact, as we have seen, but an old Star-Chamber decree re-enacted \ This Ordinance was in some sort repealed or re-inforced in 1647, 1649, and 1652. A warrant of Lord-General Fairfax, dated January 9, directs Captain Richard Lawrence, Marshal-General of * the Army under my command,' in virtue of the Parliamen- tary Ordinance of 1649 (dated January $), to put in execution the previous enactments concerning * scandalous and unlicensed pamphlets.' The Marshal-General is * required and authorized to take into custody any person or persons who have offended or shall hereafter offend, against the said Ordinances, and inflict upon them such corporal punishments, and levy such penalties upon them for each offence, as are therein mentioned, and not discharge them till they have made full payment thereof, and received the said punishment accordingly.' And he is further authorized and required to make diligent search * from time to ' See Kerr's Blackstone, iv. 161, note; Scobell's Acts and Ordinances. C 2 xxxvi INTRODUCTION, time, in all places wherein he shall think meet, for all unlicensed printing presses any way employed in printing scandalous and unlicensed papers, pamphlets, books, or ballads, and to search for such unhcensed books, papers, treatises,' &c. But even in those dark days Milton made at least one convert, and we may well believe that throughout the country those who had ears to hear heard him, although there might be no public response. This one convert was one of the Licensers, Gilbert Mabbott by name. When in May 1649 he resigned his post, he gave reasons for this step that were clearly derived from the Areopagitica^. When the Independents rose into power, though there was no formal repeal of the stringent ordinances of the Long Pailiament, yet they were no longer executed, at least so far as matters of religious opinion were concerned, with the rigour their prede- cessors had practised, or desired. The office of Licenser fell into abeyance. ReHgious tolerance had long been the watchword of the Independents, and it redounds to their glory that they did not, after attaining power, discredit the professions they had made when smarting under the coercions of others. It is true that their notion of tolerance was imperfect, as indeed was that of Milton and of Jeremy Taylor ; that they excepted Roman Catholics ; that they once or twice inflicted punishment on anti- trinitarians ; that they ordered certain blasphemous books to be burned ; that they prohibited the Episcopalian worship. Some- thing might readily be said by way of apology for these de- flections from the highest ideal. But this defence unattempted, it remains true that they were the first party in England, perhaps in Europe, that distinctly professed the principle of religious toleration as a practical principle of their politics, and that after the overthrow of the Presbyterians they adhered in success to the creed of their adversity. With regard to political writings during the Commonwealth, the peculiar position of the govern- ment must be remembered. It is clear that a free political Press is not easily compatible with a rule that is not firmly based on the national consent. And, however decidedly we may reject the old royalist legends of Cromwell's selfish ambition and ^ See Birch's Life of Milton, Birch quotes from * A Perfect Diunial of some Passages in Parliament,' &c., No. 304, for May, 21-29, 1649. JNTROpUCTIO.V, xxxvii remorseless tyranny, — to whatever degree we may sympathize with Milton's admiration for * Our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but del factions rude. Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed, And on the neck of crowned Fortune proud Hast rear'd God's trophies, and His work pursu'd,' — whatever pride we may take in his foreign policy, that made the English name respected and potent throughout Europe as scarcely ever before or since, — yet it must be confessed that the Protector governed a reluctant people, and was encom- passed at home by discontents and threatenings and treacheries. Not all his merits could overcome the enormous difficulties of the situation : for partly they were not recognised at all ; partly they were in the eyes of a great mass of the nation more than counterbalanced by what were thought to be egregious errors and defects. Hence, in mere self-defence, it seemed that private presses could not be allowed, and that allowed presses must be regulated. It was ordered in October 1653 (some two months before the Protectorate was formally established) that no person should presume to publish in print any matter of publrc news or intelligence without leave and approbation of the Secretary of State. A government obnoxious to the prejudices of the country, and that could not with safety to itself permit political matters to be freely discussed, could not be expected to stand. When the strong hand of Cromwell was relaxed by death, there was no vital force left in the political system he had organized ; and after nine months of imminent chaos the nation, whose loyalty had never expired, but had of late years burned fervently, how- ever silently, turned once more to its old traditions. With the Restoration the old regime was for the most part revived. It was even proposed by some ardent spirits to recall the Star Chamber into life ; but, wild as was the reactionary enthusiasm of the day, they failed to achieve such a dismal re- surrection. But the old restrictions of the Press were once more rigorously enforced. In 1662 the office of Licenser was xxxviii INTRODUCTION. revived, the Judges, certain officers of state, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, being appointed to supervise various depart- ments of literature. In 1663 Roger L'E strange was appointed Licenser — an appointment he seems to have held, possibly with an intermission, till the Revolution, when he was succeeded by one Fraser, who, probably for some negligence in the discharge of his functions — it is said for having allowed to be printed Dr. Walker's True Account of the Author of Eikon Basilike — was presently dismissed, when Edmund Bohun, a Suffolk justice, took his place. Bohun was to be the last of the Licensers, for the system had entered upon its last generation when it was reinstituted by Charles IL The Act of 1662^ was, in short, but a new version of the previous parliamentary ordinances ; and a proclamation was issued 'for suppressing the printing and publishing unlicensed news-books and pamphlets of news, because it has become a common practice for evil-disposed persons to vend to his Ma- jesty's people all the idle and malicious reports that they could collect or invent, contrary to law ; the continuance whereof would, in a short time, endanger the peace of the kingdom ; the same manifestly tending thereto, as has been declared by all his Majesty's subjects unanimously.' L'Estrange, himself a virulent pamphleteer and acrid journalist both before and after the Restoration, was not idle in his office ; and so our literature, under his dictatorship, was subjected to perpetual mutilation. 'The sponge^' was ever in his hand, and he slurred and rubbed without compunction. Out of many instances of the manner in which this censorial jurisdiction was exercised by him, or by his assessors, Milton himself may be cited. It appears that Para- dise Lost was itself in danger. The suspicious eye of the licenser — the Rev. Thomas Tomkyns, one of the chaplains of Archbishop Sheldon — had Hghted upon certain lines in Book I ; see 594-600. *As when the sun new ris'n Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds * 13 and 14 Car. II. c. 33. ^ Sec p. 12. INTRODUCTION, xxxix On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs, Dark'nM so, yet shone Above iheni all th' Archangel.* The sensitive royalist, it is said, smelt treason in this mention of monarchs perplexed with fear of change, and pondered whether he should not suppress the whole work, though indeed a free excision might have satisfied the requirements of the case. That he permitted to pass unchallenged other passages of the poem, as 1. 497-502, VII. 23-38, XII. 13-104, may perhaps excite surprise. Possibly he may have thought it not ^yorth his while to revise too severely a work that seemed so little in harmony with the taste of the time, and therefore so little likely to enjoy any wide popularity. In the case of another of his writings Milton did not escape so easily. His History of Britain actually suffered laceration. Several passages, describing the pride and superstition of the * Saxon* monks were, it is said, taken to be aimed at the prelates of his own time, and were accordingly expunged. If this was his interpretation, the licenser blundered oddly, for the passages certainly portray the Long Parliament and the Assembly of Divines. The current story may not per- haps do the Hcenser justice. According to Richardson the passages had been excised * as being a sort of digression, and in order to avoid giving offence to a party quite subdued, and whose faults the government were then willing to have forgotten.' The licenser might expunge, but he could not destroy them. * Milton gave a copy of the proscribed remarks to the Earl of Anglesea, v/hich were published in 1681, with a preface declaring that they originally belonged to the third book of his history, and they are now found in their proper placed' Thus Milton suffered himself the degradation he mentions with such keen abhorrence in the Areopagitica^, Amongst the many bitternesses his great heart was destined to know, in the course of his vexed life, this assuredly was not the least. Not to be counted * fit to print his mind without a tutor and examiner,' was, he held, * the greatest ^ See Todd's Milton's Poetical Works, i. 20Q, ed. 1826. ' See the passage in Prose Works, 502-504. It begins, ' Of those who swayed most in the late troubles,' &c.; and ends, 'which give us matter of this digression.* xl INTRODUCTION, displeasure and indignity to a free and knowing spirit that can be put upon him.' One may imagine the profound contempt, and also the sad anguish — one may scorn one's foes, but yet their arrows pierce us — with which, in his retired house in Artillery Walk, he would hear of the insolent scrutinies of the precious life-blood of his * master spirit,' with whose embalming and treasuring up on purpose to a life beyond life, coarse hands were thus rudely interfering^ The Act of 1662 expired in 1679. It was formally renewed in 1685^, and continued till 1692. In 1692 it was re-enacted for two more years. When it lapsed in 1694 it lapsed for ever, in spite of various advocacies and clamours repeated from time to time. In his account of the final extinction in 1694 of a power so formidable and so perilous, Macaulay well points out how quietly and unobservedly it happened. When the question was put in the House of Commons * That the House do agree with the Committee on the Resolution that the Act, entitled an Act for preventing Abuses in printing Seditious, treasonable, and un- licensed Pamphlets, and for regulating of Printing and Printing Presses be continued,' *the Speaker pronounced that the Noes had it,' and the Ayes did not think fit to divide. The Lords, indeed, proposed to continue it ; but when the Commons presently set forth their objections in a paper delivered to the Lords, and these objections all related to matters of detail, being many of them what Milton would have called * arguments of merchandize,' * the Lords yielded without a contest.' * The Lords yielded without a contest. They probably ex- pected that some less objectionable bill for the regulation of the press would soon be sent up to them, and, in fact, such a bill was brought into the House of Commons, read twice, and referred to a Select Committee. But the Session closed before the Com- mittee had reported, and English literature was emancipated, and emancipated for ever, from the control of the Government ^' In subsequent years — in 1697, in 1703, in 17 13 — the subject was again mooted, for there were not wanting outside the walls of Parliament those who called upon the House to re-impose ^ See p. 6. 2 See Macaulay 's Hist, of England, ii. 162, ed. 1861. ^ Ibid. vii. 169, ed. l86x. INTRODUCTION, xli the old restraints. Thus there appeared a Modest Plea for the Due regulation of the Press, in Answer to reasons lately printed against it, humbly submitted to the judgment of au- thority, by Francis Gregor)% D.D., and Rector of Hambledon, in the County of Bucks : London, 1698' ; * A Letter to a Member of Parliament showing the Necessity of regulating the Press : Oxford, 1699^'; and other similar appeals. But they were made in vain. In later times there have been some who have sighed or cried aloud for the old supervision, or, at least, have been prone to believe that the absence of it begat not so much liberty as license. Thus Hume writes of the event of 1694, projecting, it may be thought, his own views into his account of it :— *To the great displeasure of the King and his Ministers, who seeing nowhere, in any Government during present or past ages, any example of such unlimited freedom, doubted much of its salutary effects, and probably thought that no books or writings would ever so much improve the general understanding of men as to render it safe to entrust them with an indulgence so easily abused.' * And the present moment,' remarks the author of the Curiosities of Literature^ first published 1 791-18 17, after quoting the above words, 'verifies the prescient conjecture of the philosopher. Such is the licentiousness of our press that some, not perhaps the most hostile to the cause of freedom, would not be averse to manacle authors once more with an Imprimatur.' And so there will be always some who will forget, under the pressure of certain disadvantages, all the blessings that a Free Press has conferred upon us, who, in the sun, will see nothing but spots, or, in the spring time, a mere carnival of east winds. Moreover, is the abuse of a thing to be truly and per- manently cured by restraining the uSe of it ? If a man handles his sword awkwardly, so that he wounds his friends and himself rather than the enemy, will his dexterity be improved by taking his weapon from him ? Or shall we not better teach him a more judicious management 1 * The pamphlet especially referred to is * A Letter to a Member of Parliament, showing that a restraint on the Press is inconsistent with the Protestant religion, and dangerous to the liberties of the nation.* xlii INTRODUCTION. But, to return to the Areopagitica^ it may appear perhaps, from the account given above of the end of Press-Hcensing, that Milton did little or nothing towards the achievement of it, inas- much as the general question with which his work deals was not at all discussed when that end came. But it would be rash for this reason to conclude that Milton spent his strength for nought. It is, in fact, impossible to estimate what the influence of his discourse may have been between 1644 and 1694. The influence of a book is not to be judged so much by the quantity, as by the quality, of its readers. And one can scarcely doubt that the words of the Areopagitica sank deep into the hearts of the better spirits of the time. To them it was addressed, and only to them was it fully intelligible. It could not be expected to have a large general circulation, but it was held a sovereign work in its own sphere. It was regarded as a central spring, to which others might resort. * Hither as to their fountain other stars Repairing, in their urns draw golden light.* We have noticed its influence upon Mabbott ; and so in other cases we find its arguments reproduced. Thus a pamphlet called ^ A Just Vindication of Learning, or an Humble Address to the High Court of Parliament in behalf of the Liberty of the Press, by Philopatris : London, 1679,' is neither more nor less than a mutilated copy of the Areopagitica, A work entitled * Reasons humbly offered for the Liberty of Unlicensed Printing, 1693,' is simply an abridgment of it. ^(^ ^c^ rf*'-^ /,i^ ^^'' Nor is our estimate of the result of the Areopagitica to be limited by the year 1694. All that it had to teach was not finally taught when the licensing system formally ceased ; nor was it then to be thrown away, like a ticket that has served its purpose. It was published separately in 1738, in 1772, in 1792, in 1819, in 1868 ; with the *Tractat of Education' in 1780 ; with other tracts in 1809. Mirabeau's tract, *Sur la Libert^ de la Presse,' 1788, is merely a reproduction of it. *Le titre de ce morceau tres singulier, ou j'ai suivi de beaucoup plus pr^s mon Auteur que ne voudront le croire ceux qui ne consulteront pas Poriginal, et ou j'ai plutot retranchd qu'ajout^ ; ce titre est .: INTRODUCTIOiW xliii Areopagitica : A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicens'd Printing; to the Parliament of England ^' Lastly, our judgment of what power the Areopagitica has^ exercised in the world must not confine itself to the Printing Press and its history ; for the work is indeed not only a mag- nificent protest in behalf ofjmlic ensed books, but an ii m nortal ^ Hpfpnrp c\i Free Tho^ ht. Jeremy Taylor's Libertyof Pro- phesying, Locke's Letters on Toleration^ John Stuart Mill's Liberty — these are works of no temporary and transient value, however they may have been called forth by passing circum- stances ; and amongst these, and not the least amongst them, is to be ranked the Areopagitica, It is inspired by the very spirit of freedom. It is the own voice of a mind resolute to be free and fetterless, and to dare usurpation to its face. •-t/ SECTION V. THE PRESENT EDITION. The text of the present edition is that of the original edition of 1644, with only one intentional difference, viz. warfaring^ foi wayfarings on p. 18 ; on which see the note. It was printed in the first instance from Mr. Arber's Reprint, and then collated with the 1644 edition, of which Mr. Arber's reprint was found to be an extremely faithful reproduction, the corrections that had to be made being very few and very slight. For the rest, I have to express great obligations to Holt White's edition of 1819, as indeed every one must who studies the Areopagitica, His ' Prefatory Remarks, Copious Notes, and Excursive Illustrations,' are a very storehouse of information, of which frequent mention is made in the Notes, where I have, I believe, always acknowledged any debt incurred in this and all other cases. Next in value to Holt White's volume is Mr. Lobb's * Modern Version of Milton's Areopagitica, with Notes, Appendix, and Tables : Calcutta, 1872.' Possibly enough, if Mr. Lobb designed his work for Indian readers, he was right in translating the original into modern English ; but there can scarcely be any Englishmen who would accept Mr. Lobb's ^ See Buckle's Civilization, ii. 225. xliv INTRODUCTION-, version, however vigorously executed, in exchange for Milton's own. The notes contain much valuable matter ; it is a pity they are not made more accessible by a better arrangement. ^ Mil- ton's Areopagitica, a Commentary,' privately printed, by Mr. R. C. Jebb, the Public Orator of Cambridge, for a copy of which I have to thank the author, contains some excellent suggestions. There is also an edition by Mr. T. G. Osborn, Head Master of New Kingswood School, Bath, with some notes that are * mainly taken from sources obvious and easily accessible and make no pretensions to original or extensive research.' Lastly, I must do myself the pleasure of thanking my friend, Mr. Skeat, the well-known Old English scholar, for various valuable suggestions. I have also to thank for sundry kind services the Rev. G. W. Kitchin, of Christ Church, Oxford ; Professor Morley, University College, and Dr. Morris, King's College School, London ; Professor Seeley, Cambridge ; and Professor Ward, Owens College, Manchester. I Oppidans Road, Primrose Hill, London ; August 1st, 1874. In the second issue of *the present edition' certain misprints have been corrected, one or two notes withdrawn as un- necessary, and a few additions made. I had intended to add some remarks on the fact that Milton himself, after writing this ^ discourse,' acted as a Licenser of the Press. But the urgent demand for this edition leaves no time now for this consideration. I may just say that though 1 have given here the original or- thography, I am by no means of opinion this should always be done in reprinting old books for school or for general use. Mr. R. C. Browne, in his well-known useful edition of Milton's English Poems, has, I do not doubt, acted judiciously in moder- nising the spelling. But it will be allowed that occasionally an exacter reproduction should be given ; and here is one. Oct. 8, 1878. INTRODUCTION. xlv This Third Edition is a mere reprint of the Second. I had intended to consider here at some length the fact hastily mentioned in the Preface to the Second Edition — that Milton himself, after writing this * discourse/ acted as a Licen- ser of the Press. But this fact is so fully discussed by Pro- fessor Masson in the fourth volume, pp. 324-335, and pp. 432, 433, of his exhaustive and invaluable work *The Life of Milton in Connexion with the History of his Time,' that little remains to be said, or rather, if one went into the subject, one could only repeat what has been already written : therefore I will merely briefly state how the case really stood, referring the reader for an ampler account to Professor Masson's volume. Milton acted as a * Licenser of the Press,' merely so far as this : he was for a time — from the beginning of the year 165 1 to the beginning of 1652 — connected as a sort of supervisor with one of the current journals published in the interest of the Commonwealth. Each one of these organs had a censor attached to it. The Several Proceedings in Parliament was inspected, so to speak, and allowed by Mr. Henry Scobell, the Clerk of the Parliament ; A Perfect Diiirnall of some Passages of the Armies^ by Mr. John Rushworth, the Army Secretary; A Brief e Relation of Some Affairs and Tra7isactio7is^ by Mr. Gualter Frost, the General Secretary of the Council of State. And just in the same way the Mercurius Politicus was en- trusted to the discretion of Mr. John Milton, Latin Secretary to the Council for their Letters to foreign Princes and States. There is no sign of Milton's acting as a Press-licenser in any other way. ,He was * often employed to report on papers or pamphlets after they were published ' — to officially review them in fact ; but not to authorize or license them. It thus appears that Milton's * licensing' r/ieant little, or nothing, more than acting as a superior — a final — editor to one of the newspapers issued by the party to which he belonged. We presume that the unfriendliest eye could scarcely discover in such a function anything irreconcilable with the views so nobly and ardently asserted in the Areopagitica King's College, London, Jan. 7. 1882, AREOPAGITICA, // .i Il'" AREOPAGITICA, Jpor tfte Hibertg of unlirenc'ir printing. They who to States and Governours of the Common- wealth direct their Speech, High Court of Parlament, or wanting such accesse in a private condition, write that which they foresee may advance the publick good, I 5 suppose them, as at the beginning of no meane en- deavour, not a litde alter'd and mov'd inwardly in their mindes : some with doubt of what will be the successe, others with feare of what will be the censure ; some with hope, others with confidence of what they have loto speake. And me perhaps each of these disposi- tions, as the subject was whereon I entered, may have at other times variously affected; and likely might in these formost expressions now also disclose which of them sway'd most, but that the very attempt of this ad- 15 dresse thus made, and the thought of whom it hath re- course to, hath got the power within me to a passion, farre more welcome then incidentall to a Preface. Which though I stay not to confesse ere any aske, I shall be blamelesse, if it be na^otherjhenthejoy a gratulation 20 which it brings to all who wish and promote their Countries liberty ; whereof this whole Discourse proposed will be a certaine testimony, if not a Trophey. For this is not the liberty which wee can hope, that no grievance 2 AREOPAGITICA. ever should arise in the Commonwealth, that let no man in this World expect; but when complaints are freely heard, deeply consider'd, and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civill liberty attained, that wise 5 men looke for. To which if I now manifest by the very sound of this which I shall utter that wee are already in good part arrived, and yet from such a steepe disadvantage of tyranny and superstition grounded into our principles as was beyond the manhood of a Roman recovery, it lowill bee attributed first, as is most due, to the strong assistance of God our deliverer, next to your faithfull guidance and undaunted Wisdome, Lords and Commons oi England. Neither is it in Gods esteeme the diminu- tion of his glory, when honourable things are spoken of 15 good men and worthy Magistrates; which if I now first should begin to doe, after so fair a progresse of your laudable deeds, and such a long obligement upon the whole Realme to your indefatigable vertues, I might be justly reckn'd among the tardiest and the unwillingest 20 of them that praise yee. Neverthelesse there being three principall things, without which all praising is but Courtship and flattery, First, when that only is prais'd which is solidly worth praise : next, when greatest likeli- hoods are brought that such things are truly and really 25 in those persons to whom they are ascribed : the other, when he who praises, by shewing that such his actuall perswasion is of whom he writes, can demonstrate that he flatters not, the former two of these I have hereto- fore endeavoured, rescuing the employment from him 30 who went about to impaire your merits with a triviall and malignant Encomium; the latter as belonging chiefly to mine owne acquittal!, that whom I so extoll'd I did not flatter, hath been reserved opportunely to this occasion. AREOPAGiriCA. 3. For he who freely magnifies what hath been nobly done, and fears not to declare as freely what might be done better, gives ye the best covenant of his fidelity, and that his loyalest affection and his hope waits on your 5 proceedings. His highest praising is not flattery, and his plainest advice is a kinde of praising; for though I should afiirme and hold by argument, that it would fare better with truth, with learning, and the Commonwealth, if one of your publisht Orders which 1 should name, were locaird in, yet at the same time it could not but much redound to the lustre of your milde and equall Govern- ment, when as private persons are hereby animated to thinke ye better pleas'd with publick advice then other statists have been delighted heretofore with publicke IS flattery. And men will then see what difference there is between the magnanimity of a trienniall Parlament and that jealous hautinesse of Prelates and cabin Coun- sellours that usurpt of late, when as they shall observe yee in the midd'st of your Victories and successes more 20 gently brooking writt'n exceptions against a voted Order then other Courts, which had produc't nothing worth memory but the weake ostentation of wealth, would have endur'd the least signifi'd dislike at any sudden Procla- mation. If I should thus farre presume upon the meek II demeanour of your civill and gentle greatnesse. Lords and Commons, as what your publisht Order hath directly said, that to gainsay, I might defend my selfe with ease, if any should accuse me of being new or insolent, did they but know how much better I find ye esteem it to 30 imitate the old and elegant humanity of Greece then the barbarick pride of a Hunnish and Norwegian state-lines. And out of those ages, to whose polite wisdom and letters we ow that we are not yet Gothes and Juilanders^ B 2 4 AREOPAGITICA. I could name him who from his private house wrote that discourse to the Parlament of Athens ^ that per- swades them to change the forme of Democraty which was then establisht. Such honour was done in those 5 dayes to men who profest the study of wisdome and elo- quence, not only in their own Country, but in other Lands, that Cities and Siniories heard them gladly and with great respect, if they had ought in publick to admonish the State. Thus did Dion Prusaem a stranger 10 and a privat Orator counsell the Rhodians against a former Edict: and I abound with other like examples, which to set heer would be superfluous. But if from the industry of a life wholly dedicated to studious labours, and those naturall endowments haply not the worst for 15 two and fifty degrees of northern latitude, so much must be derogated as to count me not equall to any of those who had this priviledge, I would obtain to be thought not so inferior as your selves are superior to the most of them who received their counsell: and how farre you 20 excell them, be assured, Lords and Commons, there can no greater testimony appear then when your prudent spirit acknowledges and obeyes the voice of reason from what quarter soever it be heard speaking; and renders ye as willing to repeal any Act of your own setting forth 25 as any set forth by your Predecessors. If ye be thus resolv'd, as it were injury to thinke ye were not, I know not what should withhold me from presenting ye with a fit instance wherein to shew both that love of truth which ye eminently professe, and that 30 uprightnesse of your judgement which is not wont to be partiall to your selves, by judging over again that Order which ye have ordain'd to regulate Printing : That no Book, pamphlet, or paper shall he henceforth Printed^ AREOPAGITICA, 5 unlesse ike same be first approved and licenct by such, or at least one of such as shall be thereto appointed. For that part which preserves justly every mans Copy to himselfe, or provides for the poor, I touch not, only wish they be 5 not made pretenses to abuse and persecute honest and painfull Men, who offend not in either of these particu- lars. But that other clause of Licencing Books, which we thought had dy'd with his brother quadragesimal and matrimonial when the Prelats expir'd, I shall now attend 10 with such a Homily as shall lay before ye, first the in- ventors of it to bee those whom ye will be loath to own ; next what is to be thought in generall of reading, what ever sort the Books be ; and that this Order avails no- thing to the suppressing of scandalous, seditious, and 15 libellous Books, which were mainly intended to be sup- prest; last, that it will be primely to the discourage- ment of all learning, and the stop of Truth, not only by the disexercising and blunting our abilities in what we know already, but by hindring and cropping the discovery 20 that might bee yet further made both in religious and civill Wisdome. I deny not but that it is of greatest concernment in the Church and Commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how Bookes demeane themselves as well as men ; and 25 thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors: For Books are not absolutely dead things, but doe contain a potencie of life in them to be as active as that soule was whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a violl the purest efficacie 30 and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous Dragons teeth ; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And d AREOPAGITICA. yet on the other hand, unlesse warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book ; who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image; but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the 5 Image of God as it were in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the Earth ; but a good Booke is the pretious life-blood of a master spirit, imbalm'd and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. 'Tis true, no age can restore a life, whereof perhaps there is no great losse ; lo and revolutions of ages doe not oft recover the losse of a rejected truth, for the want of which whole Nations fare the worse. We should be wary therefore what per- secution we raise against the living labours of publick men, how we spill that seasoned life of n^an preserved 15 and stor'd up in Books; since we see a kinde of homicide may be thus committed, sometimes a martyrdome, and if it extend to the whole impression, a kinde of massacre, whereof the execution ends not in the slaying of an ele- mentall life, but strikes at that ethereall and fift essence, 20 the breath of reason it selfe, slaies an immortality rather then a life. But lest I should- be condemn'd of intro- ducing licence, while I opposeiLicencing, I refuse not the paines to be so much Historicall as will serve to shew what hath been done by ancient and famous Com- 25 monwealths against this disorder, till the very time that this project of licencing crept out of the Inquisition^ was catcht up by our Prelates, and hath caught some of our Presbyters. In Athens where Books and Wits were ever busier 30 then in any other part of Greece, I finde but only two sorts of writings which the Magistrate car'd to take no- tice of: those either blasphemous and Atheisticall, or Libellous. Thus the Books of Protagoras were by the AREOPAGITICA. 7 Judges of Areopagus commanded to be burnt, and him- selfe banisht the territory, for a discourse begun with his confessing not to know whether there were gods, or whether not: And against defaming, it was decreed that 5 none should be traduc'd by name, as was the manner of Vetus Comoedia, whereby we may guesse how they censur'd Hbelling: And this course was quick enough, as Cicero writes, to quell both the desperate wits of other Atheists, and the open way of defaming, as the lo event shew'd. Of other sects and opinions though tending to voluptuousnesse and the denying of divine providence they tooke no heed. Therefore we do not read that either Epicurus, or that libertine school of Cyrene, or what the Cynick impudence utter'd, was ever 15 question'd by the Laws. Neither is it recorded that the writings of those old Comedians were supprest, though the acting of them were forbid; and that Plato com- mended the reading oi Aristophanes the loosest of them all to his royall schoUer Dionysius, is commonly known, 20 and may be excused, if holy Chrysostome, as is reported, nightly studied so much the same Author and had the art to cleanse a scurrilous vehemence into the stile of a rousing Sermon. That other leading City of Greece, Lacedaemon, considering that Lycurgus their Law-giver 25 was so addicted to elegant learning as to have been the first that brought out of Ionia the scatter'd workes of Homer, and sent the Poet Thales from Greet to pre- pare and mollifie the Spartan surlinesse with his smooth songs and odes, the better to plant among them law 30 and civility, it is to be wondered how museless and un- bookish they were, minding nought but the feats of Warre. There needed no licencing of Books among them, for they disliked all but theh: owne Laconick Apo- 8 AREOPAGITICA. thegms, and took a slight occasion to chase Archilochus out of their City, perhaps for composing in a higher straine then their owne souldierly ballats and roundels could reach to; Or if it were for his broad verses, they 5 were not therein so cautious but they were as dissolute in their promiscuous conversing ; whence Euripides af- firmes in Andromache, that their women were all un- chaste. Thus much may give us light after what sort Bookes were prohibited among the Greeks. The Ro- 10 mans also for many ages trained up only to a military roughnes, resembling most of the Lacedaemonian guise, knew of learning little but what their twelve Tables, and the Pontifick College with their Augurs and Flamins taught them in Religion and Law, so unacquainted with 15 other learning that when Carneades and Critolaus with the Stoick Diogenes, comming Embassadors to Rome, tooke thereby occasion to give the City a tast of their Philosophy, they were suspected for seducers by no lesse a man then Caio the Censor, who mov'd it in the Senat 20 to dismisse them speedily, and to banish all such Attick bablers out of Italy, But Scipio and others of the noblest Senators withstood him and his old Sahin aus- terity ; honoured and admir'd the men ; and the Censor himself at last in his old age fell to the study of that 25 whereof before hee was so scrupulous. And yet at the same time Naevius and Plautus the first Latine come- dians had filFd the City with all the borrowed Scenes of Menander and Philemon, Then began to be considered there also what was to be don to libellous books and 30 Authors ; for Naevius was quickly cast into prison for his unbridrd pen, and releas'd by the Tribunes upon his • recantation ; We read also that libels were burnt, and the makers punisht by Augustus, The like severity no AREOPAGITICA, 9 doubt was us'd if ought were impiously writt'n against their esteemed gods. Except in these two points, how the world went in Books, the Magistrat kept no reck- ning. And therefore Lucretius without impeachment 5 versifies his Epicurism to MemmiuSy and had the honour to be set forth the second time by Cicero so great a father of the Commonwealth ; although himselfe disputes against that opinion in his own writings. Nor was the Satyricall sharpnesse, or naked plainnes of Lucilius, or 10 Catullus y or Flaccus, by any order prohibited. And for matters of State, the story of Titius Livius^ though it extoU'd that part which Pompey held, was not therefore supprest by Octavius Caesar of the other Faction. But that Naso was by him banisht in his old age for the 15 wanton Poems of his youth, was but a meer covert of State over some secret cause ; and besides, the Books were neither banisht nor call'd in. From hence we shall meet with little else but tyranny in the Roman Empire, that we may not marvell if not so often bad as good 20 Books were silenc't. I shall therefore deem to have bin large anough in producing what among the ancients was punishable to write, save only which all other argu- ments were free to treat on. By this time the Emperours were become Christians, 25 whose discipline in this point I doe not finde to have bin more severe then what was formerly in practice. The Books of those whom they took to be grand Here- ticks were examined, refuted, and condemned in the generall Councels; and not till then were prohibited, 30 or burnt by autority of the Emperor. As for the writings of Heathen authors, unlesse they were plaine invectives against Christianity, as those of Porphyrius and ProcluSy they met with no interdict that can be to AREOPAGITICA. cited till about the year 400 in a Carthaginian Councel, wherein Bishops themselves were forbid to read the Books of Gentiles, but Heresies they might read : while others long before them on the contrary scrupl'd more 5 the Books of Hereticks then of Gentiles. And that the primitive Councels and Bishops were wont only to declare what Books were not commendable, passing no furder, but leaving it to each ones conscience to read or to lay by, till after the year 800, is observed already by 10 Padre Paolo the great unmasker of the Trentine Councel. After which time the Popes of Rome, engrossing what they pleas'd of Politicall rule into their owne hands, extended their dominion over mens eyes, as they had before over their judgements, burning and prohibiting 15 to be read what they fansied not; yet sparing in their censures, and the Books not many which they so dealt with ; till Martin the 5. by his Bull not only prohibited, but was the first that excommunicated the reading of hereticall Books ; for about that time Wicklef and Husse 20 growing terrible were they who first drove the Papall Court to a stricter policy of prohibiting. Which cours Leo the 10 and his successors followed, untill the Coun- cell of Trent and the Spanish Inquisition engendring together brought forth or perfeted those Catalogues 25 and expurging Indexes that rake through the entrails of many an old good Author with a violation wors then any could be offered to his tomb. Nor did they stay in matters Hereticall, but any subject that was not to their palat they either condemned in a prohibition, or 30 had it strait into the new Purgatory of an Index. To fill up the measure of encroachment, their last inven- tion was to ordain that no Book, pamphlet, or paper should be Printed (as if S, Peter had bequeath'd them AREOPAGITICA. II the keys of the Presse also out of Paradise) unlesse it were approv'd and Hcenc't under the hands of 2 or 3 glutton Friers. For example : Let the Chancellor Cini be pleas'd to see if in this 5 present work be contain'd ought that may withstand the Printing, Vincent Rahatta Vicar of Florence. I have seen this present work, and finde nothing athwart the Catholick faith and good manners; In witnesse whereof 10 1 have given, &c. Nicolh Cini, Chancellor of Florence, Attending the precedent relation, it is allowed that this present work of Davanzali may be Printed, Vincent Rahatta^ &c. 15 It may be Printed, /w/^' 15. Friar Siuion Mompei d' Amelia Chancellor of the holy office in Florence, Sure they have a conceit, if he of the bottomlesse pit had not long since broke prison, that this quadruple exorcism 20 would barre him down. I feare their next designe will be to get into their custody the licencing of that which they say * Claudius intended, but went not through with. Voutsafe to see another of their forms the Roman stamp : Imprimatur^ If it seem good to the reverend Master of 25 the holy Palace, BelcastrOy Viceregent Imprimatur, Friar Nicolb Rodolphi Master of the holy Palace. Sometimes 5 Imprimaturs are seen together dialoguewise in • Quo veniam daret flatum crepitumque ventris in convivio emittendi. Sueton. in Claudio. 1 2 AREOPA GITICA. the Piatza of one Title page, complementing and ducking each to other with their shav'n reverences, whether the Author, who stands by in perplexity at the foot of his Epistle, shall to the Presse or to the spunge. These are 5 the prety responsories, these are the deare Antiphonies that so bewitcht of late our Prelats and their Chaplaines with the goodly Eccho they made ; and besotted us to the gay imitation of a lordly Imprimatur, one from Lambeth house, another from the West end of Pauls ; so apishly 10 Romanizing that the word of command still was set downe in Latine ; as if the learned Grammaticall pen that wrote it, would cast no ink without Latine; or perhaps, as they thought, because no vulgar tongue was worthy to expresse the pure conceit of an Imprimatur ; 15 but rather, as I hope, for that our English, the language of men ever famous and formost in the achievements of liberty, will not easily finde servile letters anow to spell such a dictatorie presumption English. And thus ye have the Inventors and the originall of Book-licencing ript 20 up, and drawn as lineally as any pedigree. We have it not, that can be heard of, from any ancient Statb, or politic, or Church, nor by any Statute left us by our Ancestors, elder or later; nor from the modeme custom of any reformed Citty, or Church abroad ; but from the 25 most Antichristian Councel, and the most tyrannous Inquisition that ever inquired. Till then Books were ever as freely admitted into the World as any other birth; the issue of the brain was no more stifl'd then the issue of the womb ; no envious Juno sate cros-leg'd 30 over the nativity of any mans intellectual off- spring; but if it prov'd a Monster, who denies but that it was justly burnt, or sunk into the Sea. But that a Book, in wors condition then a peccant soul, should be to AREOPAGITICA. 1 3 Stand before a Jury ere it be borne to the World, and undergo yet in darknesse the judgement of Radamanth and his Colleagues, ere it can passe the ferry backward into light, was never heard before, till that mysterious 5 iniquity, provokt and troubl'd at the first entrance of Reformation, sought out new limbo's and new hells wherein they might include our Books also within the number of their damned. And this was the rare morsell so officiously snatcht up and so ilfavourdly imitated by loour inquisiturient Bishops and the attendant minorites their Chaplains. That ye like not now these most certain Authors of this licencing order, and that all sinister intention was farre distant from your thoughts, when ye were importuned the passing it, all men who 15 know the integrity of your actions, and how ye honour Truth, will clear yee readily. But some will say, what though the Inventors were bad, the thing for all that may be good? It may so; yet if that thing be no such deep invention, but obvious, 20 and easie for any man to light on, and yet best and wisest Commonwealths through all ages and occasions have forborne to use it, and falsest seducers and op- pressors of men were the first who tooke it up, and to no other purpose but to obstruct and hinder the first 25 approach of Reformation, I am of those who beleeve it will be a harder alchymy then Lullius ever knew, to sublimat any good use out of such an invention. Yet this only is what I request to gain from this reason, that it may be held a dangerous and suspicious fruit, 30 as certainly it deserves, for the tree that bore it, untill I can dissect one by one the properties it has. But I have first to finish as was propounded, what is to be thought in generall of reading Books, what ever sort 14 AREOPAGITICA. they be, and whether be more the benefit or the harm that thence proceeds ? Not to insist upon the examples of Moses^ Daniel and Paulf who were skilfull in all the learning of the 5 Egyptians, Caldeans, and Greek?, which could not probably be without reading their Books of all sorts, in Paul especially, who thought it no defilement to insert into holy Scripture the sentences of three Greek Poets and one of them a Tragedian, the question lowas notwithstanding sometimes controverted among the Primitive Doctors, but with great odds on that side which affirmed it both lawfull and profitable, as was then evidently perceived, when Julian the Apostat and sutdest enemy to our faith made a decree forbidding 15 Christians the study of heathen learning; for, said he, they wound us with our own weapons, and with our owne arts and sciences they overcome us. And indeed the Christians were put so to their shifts by this crafty means, and so much in danger to decline into all igno- 20 ranee, that the two Apollinarii were fain as a man may say to coin all the seven liberall Sciences out of the Bible, reducing it into divers forms of Orations, Poems, Dialogues, ev'n to the calculating of a new Christian Grammar. But saith the Historian Socrates : 25 The providence of God provided better then the in- dustry of Apollinarius and his son by taking away that illiterat law with the life of him who devis'd it. So great an injury they then held it to be deprived of Hellenick learning; and thought it a persecution more 30 undermining and secretly decaying the Church then the open cruelty of Decius or Dioclesian, And perhaps it was the same politick drift that the Divell whipt St. Jerom in a lenten dream, for reading Cicero ; or else it was a AREOPAGITICA. IS fantasm bred by the feaver which had then seis'd him. For had an Angel bin his discipliner, unlesse it were for dwelling too much upon Ciceronianisms, and had chastized the reading, not the vanity, it had bin plainly 5partiall, first, to correct him for grave Ckero, and not for scurrill Plauius whom he confesses to have bin reading not long before, next, to correct him only, and let so many more ancient Fathers wax old in those pleasant and florid studies without the lash of such a 10 tutoring apparition; insomuch that Basil teaches how some good use may be made of Margiies a sportfull Poem, not now extant, writ by Homer; and why not then of Morgante an Italian Romanze much to the same purpose ? But if it be agreed we shall be try'd by 15 visions, there is a vision recorded by Eusebius far an- cienter then this tale oi Jerom to the nun Euslochium^ and besides has nothing of a feavor in it. Dtonysius Alexandrinus was about the year 240 a person of great name in the Church for piety and learning, who had 20 wont to avail himself much against hereticks by being conversant in their Books; untill a certain Presbyter laid it scrupulously to his conscience, how he durst venture himselfe among those defiling volumes. The worthy man loath to give off'ence fell into a new de- 25 bate with himselfe what was to be thought ; when sud- denly a vision sent from God, it is his own Epistle that so averrs it, confirm'd him in these words : ^ Read ^ any books what ever come to thy hands, for thou art sufficient both to judge aright and to examine each 30 matter. To this revelation he assented the sooner, as he confesses, because it was answerable to that of the Apostle to the Thessalonians : Prove all things, hold fast that which is good. And he might have added 1 6 AREOPAGITICA. another remarkable saying of the same Author : To the pure all things are pure, not only meats and drinks, but all kinde of knowledge whether of good or evill; the knowledge cannot defile, nor consequently the books, 5 if the will and conscience be not defil'd. For books are as meats and viands are, some of good, some of evill substance; and yet God in that unapocryphall vision said without exception. Rise Peter, kill and eat, leaving the choice to each mans discretion. Whole- 10 some meats to a vitiated stomack differ little or nothing from unwholesome ; and best books to a naughty mind are not unappliable to occasions of evill. Bad meats will scarce breed good nourishment in the healthiest concoction; but herein the difference is of bad books, 15 that they to a discreet and judicious Reader serve in many respects to discover, to confute, to forewarn, and to illustrate. Wherof what better witnes can ye expect I should produce then one of your own now sitting in Parlament, the chief of learned men reputed in 20 this Land, Mr. Selden, whose volume of naturall and national laws proves, not only by great autorities brought together, but by exquisite reasons and theorems almost mathematically demonstrative, that all opinions, yea^ errors, known, read, and collated, are of main ser- 25 vice and assistance toward the speedy attainment of what is truest. I conceive therefore, that when God did enlarge the universall diet of mans body, saving ever the rules of temperance, he then also, as before, left arbitrary the dyeting and repasting of our minds; 30 as wherein every mature man might have to exercise his owne leading capacity. How great a vertue is tem- perance, how much of moment through the whole life of manl yet God committs the managing so great a AREOPAGITICA, r?, trust, without particular Law or prescription, wholly to the demeanour of every grown man. And therefore when he himself tabl'd the Jews from heaven, that Omer which was every mans daily portion of Manna is 5 computed to have bin more then might have well sufficed the heartiest feeder thrice as many meals. For those actions, which enter into a man rather then issue out of him and therefore defile not, God uses not to cap- tivat under a perpetuall childhood of prescription, but lo trusts him with the gift of reason to be his own chooser ; there were but little work left for preaching, if law and compulsion show^ grow so fast upon those things which hertofore were governed only by exhortation. Salomon informs us that much reading is a wearines to the flesh ; 15 but neither he nor other inspired author tells us that such or such reading is unlawful!: yet certainly had God thought good to limit us herein, it had bin much more expedient to have told us what was unlawful! then what was wearisome. As for the burning of those 2oEphesian books by St. Pauls converts, tis reply'd the books were magick, the Syriack so renders them. It was a privat act, a voluntary act, and leaves us to a voluntary imitation; the men in remorse burnt those books which were their own ; the Magistrat by this ex*- 25 ample is not appointed ; these men practiz'd the books, another might perhaps have read them in some sort use- fully. Good and evil! we know in the field of this World grow up together almost inseparably ; and the knowledge of good is so involved and interwoven with the know- 30 ledge of evill and in so many cunning resemblances hardly to be discerned, that those confused seeds, which were impos'd on Psyche as an incessant labour to cull * Read 'should.* 1 8 AREOPAGITICA. out and sort asunder, were not more intermixt. It was from out the rinde of one apple tasted that the knowledge of good and evill as two twins cleaving to- • gether leapt forth into the World. And perhaps this is 5 that doom which Adam fell into of knowing good and evill, that is to say of knowing good by evill. As therefore the state of man now is, what wisdome can there be to choose, what continence to forbeare with- out the knowledge of evill? He that can apprehend 10 and consider vice with all her baits and seeming plea- sures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and yet pre- ,/ fer that which is truly better, he is the true wayfaring V Christian. I cannot praise a fugitive and cloister' q vertue, unexercised and unbreath'd, that never sallies 15 out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortall garland is to be run for not without dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not inno- cence into the world, we bring impurity much rather: that which purifies us is triall, and triall is by what is 20 contrary. That vertue therefore which is but a young- ling in the contemplation of evill, and knows not the utmost that vice promises to her followers, and rejects it, is but a blank vertue, not a pure ; her whitenesse is but an excrementall wliitenesse ; Which was the reason 25 why our sage and serious Poet Spencer, whom I dare be known to think a better teacher then Scotus or Aquinas, describing true temperance under the person of Guton, brings him in with his palmer through the cave of Mammon and the bowr of earthly blisse, that 30 he might see and know, and yet abstain. Since there- fore the knowledge and survay of vice is in this world so necessary to the constituting of human vertue, and * Read ' warfaring'? See note. AREOPAGITICA. I9 the scanning of error to the confirmation of truth, how can we more safely and with lesse danger scout into the regions of sin and falsity then by reading all man- ner of tractats, and hearing all manner of reason ? And 5 this is the benefit which may be had of books promis- cuously read. But of the harm that may result hence three kinds are usually reckn'd: First, is fear'd the infection that may spread ; but then all human learning and' controversie in religious points must remove out 10 of the world, yea, the Bible it selfe; for that oftimes relates blasphemy not nicely, it describes the carnall sense of wicked men not unelegantly, it brings in holiest men passionately murmuring against providence through all the arguments of Epicurus : in other great 15 disputes it answers dubiously and darkly to the com- mon reader: And ask a Talmudest what ails the modesty of his marginall Keri, that Moses and all the Prophets cannot perswade him to pronounce the tex- tuall Chetiv. For these causes we all know the Bible 20 it selfe put by the Papist into the first rank of prohi- bited books. The ancientest Fathers must be next removed, as Clement of Alexandria, and that Eusebian book of Evangelick preparation, transmitting our ears through a hoard of heathenish obscenities to receive 25 the Gospel. Who finds not that Irenaeus, Epiphanius, Jerom, and others discover more heresies then they well confute, and that oft for heresie which is the truer opinion? Nor boots it to say for these, and all the heathen Writers of greatest infection, if it must be 30 thought so, with whom is bound up the life of human learning, that they writ in an unknown tongue, so long as we are sure those languages are known as well to the worst of men, who are both most able and most c 2 20 AREOPAGITJCA. diligent to instill the poison they suck, first into the Courts of Princes, acquainting them with the choicest delights and criticisms of sin. As perhaps did that Petronius whom Nero calFd his Arbiter y the Master of 5 his revels; and that notorious ribald of Arezzo, dreaded, and yet dear to the Italian Courtiers. I name not him for posterities sake, whom Harry the 8. nam'd in merri- ment his Vicar of hell. By which compendious way all the contagion that foreine books can infuse will finde a 10 passage to the people farre easier and shorter then an Indian voyage, though it could be sail'd either by the North of Cataio Eastward or of Canada Westward, while our Spanish licencing gags the English presse never so severely. But on the other side, that infection which is 15 from books of controversie in Religion, is more doubtfull and dangerous to the learned then to the ignorant; and yet those books must be permitted untoucht by the licencer. It will be hard to instance where any ignorant man hath bin ever seduc't by Papisticall book in English, 2ounlesse it were commended and expounded to him by some of that Clergy; and indeed all such tractats whether false or true are as the Prophesie of Isaiah was to the Eunuch^ not to be understood without a guide. But of our Priests and Doctors how many have bin corrupted 25 by studying the comments of Jesuits and SorbonistSy and how fast they could transfuse that corruption into the people, our experience is both late and sad. It is not forgot since the acute and distinct Arminius was per- verted meerly by the perusing of a namelesse discours 30 writt'n at Del/, which at first he took in hand to confute. Seeing therefore that those books, and those in great abundance which are likeliest to taint both life and doctrine, cannot be supprest without the fall of learning AREOPAGITICA. 21 and of all ability in disputation, and that these books of either sort are most and soonest catching to the learned, from whom to the common people what ever is hereticall or dissolute may quickly be convey'd, and that evill 5 manners are as perfectly learnt without books a thousand other ways which cannot be stopt, and evill doctrine not with books can propagate, except a teacher guide, which he might also doe without writing and so beyond prohibiting, I am not able to unfold how this cautelous 10 enterprise of licencing can be exempted from the number of vain and impossible attempts. And he who were pleasantly disposed could not well avoid to lik'n it to the exploit of that gallant man who thought to pound up the crows by shutting his Parkgate. Besides another in- 15 convenience, if learned men be the first receivers out of books and dispredders both of vice and error, how shaU the licencers themselves be confided in, unlesse we can conferr upon them, or they assume to themselves above all others in the. Land, the grace of infallibility and un- 20 corruptednesse ? 1 And again if it be true, that a wise man like a good refiner can gather gold out of the drossiest volume, and that a fool will be a fool with the best book, yea, or without book, there is no reason that we should deprive a wise man of any advantage to his 25 wisdome, while we seek to restrain from a fool that which being restrained will be no hindrance to his folly/ Fo r if there should be so much exactnesse always us'd to keep that from him which is unfit for his reading, we should in the judgement of Aristotle not only but of 10 Salomon and of our Saviour, not voutsafe him good precepts, and by consequence not willingly admit him to good books, as being certain that a wise man will make better use of an idle pamphlet then a fool will do of 22 AREOPAGITICA, sacred Scripture. 'Tis next alleged we must not expose our selves to temptations without necessity, and next to that, not imploy our time in vain things. To both these objections one answer will serve, out of the grounds 5 already laid, that to all men such books are not temp- tations, nor vanities; but usefull drugs and materialls wherewith to temper and compose effective and strong med'cins, which mans life cannot want. The rest, as children and childish men, who have not the art to 10 qualifie and prepare these working mineralls, well may be exhorted to forbear, but hindered forcibly they cannot be by all the licencing that Sainted Inquisition could ever yet contrive ; which is what I promised to deliver next : That this order of licencing conduces nothing to the end 15 for which it was fram'd; and hath almost prevented me by being clear already while thus much hath bin ex- plaining. See the ingenuity of Truth, who when she gets a free and willing hand, opens her self faster then the pace of method and discours can overtake her. It was 20 the task which I began with. To shew that no Nation, or well instituted State, if they valu'd books at all, did ever use this way of licencing ; and it might be answer'd, that this is a piece of prudence lately discovered ; To which I return, that as it was a thing slight and obvious to think 25 on, so if it had bin difficult to finde out, there wanted not among them long since who suggested such a cours; which they not following, leave us a pattern of their judgement, that it was not the not knowing, but the not approving, which was the cause of their not using it. 30 Plato, a man of high autority indeed, but least of all for his Commonwealth, in the book of his laws, which no City ever yet received, fed his fancie with making many edicts to his ayrie Burgomasters, which they who other- AREOFAGITICA, %% wise admire him wish had bin rather buried and excused in the genial cups of an Academick night-sitting. By which laws he seems to tolerat no kind of learning, but by unalterable decree, consisting most of practical! 5 traditions, to the attainment whereof a Library of smaller bulk then his own dialogues would be abundant. And there also enacts that no Poet should so much as read to any privat man what he had written, untill the Judges and Law-keepers had seen it and allow'd it; But that lo Plato meant this Law peculiarly to that Commonwealth which he had imagin'd, and to no other, is evident. Why was he not else a Law-giver to himself, but a transgressor, and to be expell'd by his own Magistrats, both for the wanton epigrams and dialogues which he 15 made, and his perpetuall reading of Sophron Mimus and Aristophanes^ books of grossest infamy, and also for commending the latter of them, though he were the malicious libeller of his chief friends, to be read by the Tyrant Dionysitis, who had little need of such 20 trash to spend his time on? But that he knew this licencing of Poems had reference and dependence to many other proviso's there set down in his fancied republic, which in this world could have no place; and so neither he himself, nor any Magistrat, or City ever 25 imitated that cours, which tak'n apart from those other collaterall injunctions must needs be vain and fruitlesse. For if they fell upon one kind of strictnesse, unlesse their care were equall to regulat all other things of like aptnes to corrupt the mind, that single endea- 30 vour they knew would be but a fond labour : to shut and fortifie one gate against corruption, and be neces- sitated to leave others round about wide open. If we think to regulat Printing, thereby to rectifie manners, 24 AREOPAGITICA, we must regulat all recreations and pastimes, all that is delightfull to man. No musick must be heard, no song be set or sung, but what is grave and Dorick, There must be licencing dancers, that no gesture, motion, or 5 deportment be taught our youth but what by their al- lowance shall be thought honest; for such Plato was provided of. It will ask more then the work of twenty licencers to examin all the lutes, the violins, and the ghittarrs in every house; they must not be suffered to lo prattle as they doe, but must be licenced what they may say. And who shall silence all the airs and madrigalls, that whisper softnes in chambers? The Windows also, and the Balconis must be thought on; there are shrewd books with dangerous Frontispices set to sale; who 15 shall prohibit them? shall twenty licencers? The vil- lages also must have their visitors to enquire what lec- tures the bagpipe and the rebbeck reads, ev'n to the ballatry and the gammuth of every municipal fidler, for these are the Countrymans Arcadia s and his Monte 20 Mayors, Next, what more Nationall corruption, for which England hears ill abroad, then houshold gluttony? who shall be the rectors of our daily rioting ? and what shall be done to inhibit the multitudes that frequent those houses where drunk'nes is sold and harbour'd? 25 Our garments also should be referr'd to the licencing of some more sober work-masters to see them cut into a lesse wanton garb. Who shall regulat all the mixt con- versation of our youth, male and female together, as is the fashion of this Country ? who shall still appoint what 30 shall be discoursed, what presumed, and no furder? Lastly, who shall forbid and separat all idle resort, all evill company? These things will be, and must be; but 'how they shall be lest hurtfull, how lest enticing, AREOPAGITICA. 25 herein consists the grave and governing wisdom of a State. To sequester out of the world into Atlantick and Euiopian polities, which never can be drawn into use, will not mend our condition; but to ordain wisely as 5 in this world of evill, in the midd'st whereof God hath placet us unavoidably. Nor is it Plaids licencing of books will doe this, which necessarily pulls along with it so many other kinds of licencing, as will make us all both ridiculous and weary, and yet frustrat ; but those unwrit- 10 t'n, or at least unconstraining laws of vertuous education, religious and civill nurture, which Plato there mentions as the bands and ligaments of the Commonwealth, the pillars and the sustainers of every written Statute; these they be which will bear chief sway in such matters as 15 these, when all licencing will be easily eluded. Impu- nity and remissenes, for certain, are the bane of a Com- monwealth ; but here the great art lyes to discern in what the law is to bid restraint and punishment, and in what things perswasion only is to work. If every action 20 which is good, or evill in man at ripe years, were to be under pittance and prescription and compulsion, what were vertue but a name, what praise could be then due to well-doing, what grammercy to be sober, just, or continent? Many there be that complain of divin 25 Providence for suffering Adam to transgresse. Foolish tongues 1 when God gave hrnTreaSon, he gave him free- dom to choose, for reason is but choosing; he had bin else a meer artificiall Adam, such an Adam as he is in the motions. We our selves esteem not of that obedi- 30 ence or love or gift, which is of force : God therefore left him free, set before him a provoking object, ever almost in his eyes ; herein consisted his merit, herein the right of his reward, the praise of his abstinence. Where- 26 AREOPAGITICA, fore did he creat passions within us, pleasures round about us, but that these rightly tempered are the very ingredients of vertu? They are not skilful! considerers of human things, who imagin to remove sin by remov- . 5 ing the matter of sin ; for, besides that it is a huge heap'^ increasing under the very act of diminishing though some part of it may for a time be withdrawn from some persons, it cannot from all in such a universall thing as^> books are; and when this is done, yet the sin remains // 10 entire. Though ye take from a covetous man all his /// treasure, he has yet one Jewell left: ye cannot bereave l|j him of his covetousnesse. Banish all objects of lust,/|// shut up all youth into the severest discipline that caii( if be exercised in any hermitage, ye cannot make them /\| 15 chaste that came not thither so ; such great care ani I wisdom is required to the right managing of this point. J\ Suppose we could expell sin by this means ; look -how much we thus expell of sin, so much we expell of ver- tue : for the matter of them both is the same ; remove 20 that, and ye remove them both alike. This justifies the high providence of God, who though he command us temperance, justice, continence, yet powrs out before us ev'n to a profusenes all desirable things, and gives us minds that can wander beyond all limit and satiety. ^5 Why should we then affect a rigor contrary to the man- ner of God and of nature, by abridging or scanting those means, which books freely permitted are, both to the triall of vertue and the exercise of truth? It would be better done to learn that the law must needs 30 be frivolous which goes to restrain things uncertainly and yet equally working to good and to evill. And were I the chooser, a dram of well-doing should be pre- ferred before many times as much the forcible hindrance ARE0PAGIT2CA. 2? of evill-doing. /For God sure esteems the growth and fTcompleating ot one vertuous person more then the wjrestraint of ten vitious. And albeit what ever thing we hear or see, sitting, walking, travelling, or conversing 5 may be fitly call'd our book, and is of the same effect that writings are, yet grant the thing to be prohibited were only books, it appears that this order hitherto is far insufficient to the end which it intends. Do we not see, not once or oftner, but weekly that continued Court- lolibell against the Parlament and City, Printed, as the wet sheets can witnes, and dispers't among us for all that licencing can doe? yet this is the prime service a man would think, wherein this order should give proof of it self. If it were executed, you'l say. But certain, if 15 execution be remisse or blindfold now and in this par- ticular, what will it be hereafter and in other books? If then the order shall not be vain and frustrat, behold a new labour, Lords and Commons : ye must repeal and proscribe all scandalous and unlicenc't books already 20 printed and divulg'd ; after ye have drawn them up into a list, that all may know which are condemned and which not; and ordain that no forrein books be deli- ver'd out of custody, till they have bin read over. This office will require the whole time of not a few overseers, 25 and those no vulgar men. There be also books which are partly usefull and excellent, partly culpable and pernicious; this work will ask as many more officials to make expurgations and expunctions, that the Com- monwealth of learning be not damnify'd. In fine, when 30 the multitude of books encrease upon their hands, ye must be fain to catalogue all those Printers who are found frequently off'ending, and forbidd the importation of their whole suspected typography. In a word, that 28 AREOPAGITICA. this your order may be exact, and not deficient, ye must reform it perfectly according to the model of Trent and Sevil^ which I know ye abhorre to doe. Yet though ye should condiscend to this, which God forbid, the 5 order still would be but fruitlesse and defective to that end whereto ye meant it. If to prevent sects and schisms, who is so unread or so uncatechis'd in story, that hath not heard of many sects refusing books as a hindrance, and preserving their doctrine unmixt for 10 many ages only by unwritten traditions. The Christian faith, for that was once a schism, is not unknown to have spread all over Asia^ ere any Gospel or Epistle was seen in writing. If the amendment of manners be aym'd at, look into Italy and Spain, whether those 15 places be one scruple the better, the honester, the wiser, the chaster, since all the inquisitionall rigor that hath bin executed upon books. Another reason, whereby to make it plain that this order will misse the end it seeks, consider by the quality 20 which ought to be in every licencer. It cannot be deny'd but that he who is made judge to sit upon the birth or death of books, whether they may be wafted into this world or not, had need to be a man above the common measure both studious, learned, and judicious; there 25 may be else no mean mistakes in the censure of what is passable or not; which is also no mean injury. If he be of such worth as behoovs him, there cannot be a more tedious and unpleasing journey-work, a greater losse of time levied upon his head, then to be made the 3operpetuall reader of unchosen books and pamphlets, oftimes huge volumes. There is no book that is accept- able unlesse at certain seasons ; but to be enjoyn'd the reading of that at all times, and in a hand scars legible, AREOPAGITICA, 2^ whereof three pages would not down at any time in the fairest Print, is an imposition which I cannot beleeve how he that values time and his own studies, or is but of a sensible nostrill, should be able to endure. In this 5 one thing I crave leave of the present licencers to be pardon'd for so thinking; who doubleese^ took this office up looking on it through their obedience to the Par- lament, whose command perhaps made all things seem easie and unlaborious to them ; but that this short triall lo hath wearied them out already, their own expressions and excuses to them who make so many journeys to sollicit their licence, are testimony anough. Seeing therefore those who now possesse the imployment, by all evident signs wish themselves well ridd of it, and that no man 15 of worth, none that is not a plain unthrift of his own hours is ever likely to succeed them, except he mean to put himself to the salary of a Presse-corrector, we may easily foresee what kind of licencers we are to expect hereafter, either ignorant, imperious, and remisse, or 20 basely pecuniary. This is what I had to shew wherein this order cannot conduce to that end, whereof it bears the intention. I lastly proceed from the no good it can do, to the mani- k} fest hurt it causes, in being first the greatest discourage- 25ment and affront that can be offered to learning and to learned men.3 It was the complaint and lamentation of Prelats upon every least breath of a motion to remove pluralities and distribute more equally Church revennu's, that then all learning would be for ever dasht and dis- 30 courag'd. But as for that opinion, I never found cause to think that the tenth part of learning stood or fell with the Clergy ; nor could I ever but hold it for a sordid and * Read * doubtlesse.' 30 AREOPAGITICA. unworthy speech of any Churchman who had a com- petency left him. If therefore ye be loath to dishearten utterly and discontent, not the mercenary crew of false pretenders to learning, but the free and ingenuous sort 5 of such as evidently were born to study and love lerning for it self, not for lucre or any other end but the service of God and of truth, and perhaps that lasting fame and perpetuity of praise which God and good men have con- sented shall be the reward of those whose publisht TO labours advance the good of mankind, then know, that so far to distrust the judgement and the honesty of one who hath but a common repute in learning and never yet offended, as not to count him fit to print his mind with- out a tutor and examiner, lest he should drop a seism 15 or something of corruption, is the greatest displeasure and indignity to a free and knowing spirit that can be put upon him. What advantage is it to be a man over it is to be a boy at school, if we have only scapt the ferular to come under the fescu of an Imprimatur? if 20 serious and elaborat writings, as if they were no more then the theam of a Grammar lad under his Pedagogue must not be utter'd without the cursory eyes of a tem- porizing and extemporizing licencer? He who is not trusted with his own actions, his drift not being known 25 to be evill, and standing to the hazard of law and penalty, has no great argument to think himself reputed in the Commonwealth wherein he was born for other then a fool or a foreiner. When a man writes to the world, he summons up all his reason and deliberation to assist 30 him; he searches, meditats, is industrious, and likely consults and conferrs with his judicious friends; after all which done he takes himself to be inform'd in what he writes as well as any that writ before him ; if in this AREOFAGITICA. 3 1 the most consummat act of his fidelity and ripenesse, no years, no industry, no former proof of his abilities can bring him to that state of maturity as not to be still mistrusted and suspected, unlesse he carry all his con- 5 siderat diligence, all his midnight watchings, and ex- pence of Palladian oyl, to the hasty view of an unleasur'd licencer, perhaps much his younger, perhaps far his in- feriour in judgement, perhaps one who never knew the labour of book-writing, and if he be not repulst or 10 slighted, must appear in Print like a punie with his guardian and his censors hand on the back of his title to be his bayl and surety, that he is no idiot or seducer, it cannot be but a dishonor and derogation to the author, to the book, to the priviledge and dignity of Learning. 15 And what if the author shall be one so copious of fancie as to have many things well worth the adding come into his mind after licencing, while the book is yet under the Presse, which not seldom happ'ns to the best and diligentest writers; and that perhaps a dozen times in 20 one book ? The Printer dares not go beyond his licenc't copy ; so often then must the author trudge to his leav- giver, that those his new insertions may be viewd; and many a jaunt will be made, ere that licencer, for it must be the same man, can either be found, or found at 25 leisure ; mean while either the Presse must stand still, which is no small damage, or the author loose his accuratest thoughts and send the book forth wors then he had made it, which to a diligent writer is the greatest melancholy and vexation that can befall. And how can a 30 man teach with autority, • which is the life of teaching, how can he be a Doctor in his book as he ought to be, or else had better be silent, whenas all he teaches, all he delivers, is but under the tuition, under the correction 3 2 ARE OP A GITICA, of his patriarchal licencer to blot or alter what precisely accords not with the hidebound humor which he calls his judgement; when every acute reader upon the first sight of a pedantick licence, will be ready with these like 5 words to ding the book a coits distance from him : I hate a pupil teacher, I endure not an instructer that comes to me under the wardship of an overseeing fist ; I know nothing of the licencer, but that I have his own hand here for his arrogance ; who shall warrant me his judge- loment? The State Sir, replies the Stationer; but has a quick return. The State shall be my governours, but not my criticks; they may be mistaken in the choice of a licencer as easily as this licencer may be mistaken in an author: This is some common stuffe; and he might 15 adde from Sir Francis Bacon, That such authorized hooks are hut the language of the times. For though a licencer should happ'n to be judicious more then ordnary, which will be a great jeopardy of the next succession, yet his very ofiice and his commission enjoyns him to let passe 20 nothing but what is vulgarly received already. Nay, which is more lamentable, if the work of any deceased author, though never so famous in his life time and even to this day, come to their hands for licence to be Printed or Reprinted, if there be found in his book one sentence 25 of a ventrous edge, utter'd in the height of zeal, and who knows whether it might not be the dictat of a divine Spirit, yet not suiting with every low decrepit humor of their own, though it were Knox himself the Reformer of a Kingdom that spake it, they will not pardon him 30 their dash; the sense of that great man shall to all posterity be lost for the fearfulnesse or the presumptuous rashnesse of a perfunctory licencer. And to what an author this violence hath bin lately done, and in what AREOPAGITICA. 33 book of greatest consequence to be faithfully publisht, I could now instance, but shall forbear till a more con- venient season. Yet if these things be not resented seriously and timely by them who have the remedy in 5 their power, but that such iron moulds as these shall have autority to knaw out the choisest periods of ex- quisitest books, and to commit such a treacherous fraud against the orphan remainders of worthiest men after death, the more sorrow will belong to that haples race 10 of men, whose misfortune it is to have understanding. Henceforth let no man care to learn, or care to be more then worldly wise; for certainly in higher matters to be ignorant and slothfull, to be a common stedfast dunce will be the only pleasant life and only in request. 15 And as it is a particular disesteem of every knowing person alive, and most injurious to the writt'n labours and monuments of the dead, so to me it seems an un- dervaluing and vilifying of the whole Nation. I cannot set so light by all the invention, the art, the wit, the 20 grave and solid judgement which is in England, as that it can be comprehended in any twenty capacities how good soever ; much lesse that it should not passe except their superintendence be over it, except it be sifted and strain'd with their strainers, that it should be uncurrant 25 without their manuall stamp. Truth and understanding are not such wares as to be monopoliz'd and traded in by tickets and statutes and standards. We must not think to make a staple commodity of all the knowledge in the Land, to mark and licence it like our broad 3ocloath and our wooll packs. What is it but a servi- tude like that impos'd by the Philistims, not to be allowed the sharpning of our own axes and coulters, but we must repair from all quarters to twenty licencing D 34 AREOPAGITICA, forges. Had any one written and divulg'd erroneous things and scandalous to honest life, misusing and for- feiting the esteem had of his reason among men, if after conviction this only censure were adjudg'd him, 5 that he should never henceforth write but what were first examin'd by an appointed officer, whose hand should be annext to passe his credit for him that now he might be safely read, it could not be apprehended lesse then a disgraceful! punishment. Whence to include the 10 whole Nation, and those that never yet thus offended, under such a diffident and suspectfull prohibition, may plainly be understood what a disparagement it is. So much the more, when as dettors and delinquents may walk abroad without a keeper, but unoffensive books 15 must not stirre forth without a visible jaylor in thir title. Nor is it to the common people lesse then a reproach ; for if we so jealous over them as that we dare not trust them with an English pamphlet, what doe we but cen- sure them for a giddy, vitious, and ungrounded people, 30 in such a sick and weak estate of faith and discretion, as to be able to take nothing down but through the pipe of a licencer? That this is care or love of them, we cannot pretend, whenas in those Popish places where the Laity are most hated and despis'd the same strictnes 25 is us'd over them. Wisdom we cannot call it, because it stops but one breach of licence, nor that neither ; whenas those corruptions which it seeks to prevent, break in faster at other dores which cannot be shut. And in conclusion it reflects to the disrepute of our 30 Ministers also, of whose labours we should hope better, and of the proficiencie which thir flock reaps by them : then that after all this light of the Gospel which is, and is to be, and all this continuall preaching, they should AREOPAGITICA, 35 be still frequented with such an unprinciprd, unedi- fy'd, and laick rabble, as that the whiffe of every new pamphlet should stagger them out of thir catechism and Christian walking. This may have much reason 5 to discourage the Ministers when such a low conceit is had of all their exhortations and the benefiting of their hearers, as that they are not thought fit to be turn'd loose to three sheets of paper without a licencer; that all the Sermons, all the Lectures preacht, printed, vented 10 in such numbers and such volumes as have now well- nigh made all other books unsalable, should not be armor anough against one single enchiridion, without the castle St. Angela of an Imprimatur. And lest som should perswade ye. Lords and Com- 15 mons, that these arguments of lerned mens discourage- ment at this your order, are meer flourishes and not reall, I could recount what I have seen and heard in other Countries, where this kind of inquisition tyran- nizes ; when I have sat among their lerned men, for 20 that honor I had, and bin counted happy to be born in such a place of Philosophic freedom as they suppos'd England was, while themselvs did nothing but bemoan the servil condition into which lerning amongst them was brought; that this was it which had dampt the 25 glory of Italian wits, that nothing had bin there writt'n now these many years but flattery and fustian. There it was that I found and visited the famous Galileo grown old, a prisner to the Inquisition, for thinking in Astronomy otherwise then the Franciscan and Do- 3ominican licencers thought. And though I knew that England then was groaning loudest under the Prelati- call yoak, neverthelesse I tooke it as a pledge of future happines, that other Nations were so perswaded of her D 2 36 AREOPAGITICA, liberty. Yet was it beyond my hope that those Worthies were then breathing in her air, who should be her leaders to such a deliverance as shall never be forgotten by any revolution of time that this world hath to finish. 5 When that was once begun, it was as little in my fear, that what words of complaint I heard among lerned men of other parts utter'd against the Inquisition, the same I should hear by as lerned men at home utter'd in time of Parlament against an order of licencing ; 10 and that so generally, that when I disclosed my self a companion of their discontent, I might say, if without envy, that he whom an honest quaesiorship had indear'd to the Sicilians, was not more by them importun'd against Verres then the favourable opinion which I had 15 among many who honour ye and are known and re- spected by ye, loaded me with entreaties and perswa- sions, that I would not despair to lay together that which just reason should bring into my mind toward the removal of an undeserved thraldom upon lerning. 20 That this is not therefore the disburdning of a par- ticular fancie, but the common grievance of all those who had prepared their minds and studies above the vulgar pitch to advance truth in others and from others to entertain it, thus much may satisfie. And in their 25 name I shall for neither friend nor foe conceal what the generall murmur is ; that if it come to inquisitioning again and licencing, and that we are so timorous of our selvs, and so suspicious of all men, as to fear each book, and the shaking of every leaf, before we know 30 what the contents are, if some who but of late were little better then silenc't from preaching, shall come now to silence us from reading except what they please, it cannot be guest what is intended by som but a second AREOPAGITICA, 37 tyranny over learning ; and will soon put it out of con- troversie that Bishops and Presbyters are the same to us both name and thing. That those evills of Prelaty which before from five or six and twenty Sees were dis- 5 tributivly charg d upon the whole people, will now light wholly upon learning, is not obscure to us : whenas now the Pastop of a small unlearned Parish on the sudden shall be exalted Archbishop over a large dioces of books, and yet not remove, but keep his other cure 10 too, a mysticall pluralist. He who but of late cry'd down the sole ordination of every novice Batchelor of Art, and deny'd sole jurisdiction over the simplest Pa- rishioner, shall now at home in his privat chair assume both these over worthiest and excellentest books and 15 ablest authors that write them. This is not, Yee Co- venants and Protestations that we have made, this is not to put down Prelaty; this is but to chop an Episcopacy; this is but to translate the Palace Me- fropolitan from one kind of dominion into another ; 20 this is but an old cannonicall slight of commtifwg our penance. To startle thus betimes at a meer unlicenc't pamphlet will after a while be afraid of every conven- ticle, and a while after will make a conventicle of every Christian meeting. But I am certain that a State 25 governed by the rules of justice and fortitude, or a Church built and founded upon the rock of faith and true knowledge, cannot be so pusillanimous. While things are yet not constituted in Religion, that freedom of writing should be restrained by a discipline imitated 30 from the Prelats and learnt by them from the Inquisi- tion, to shut us up all again into the brest of a licencer, must needs give cause of doubt and discouragement to all learned and religious men. Who cannot but discern 38 AREOFAGITICA, the finenes of this politic drift, and who are the con- trivers : that while Bishops were to be baited down, then all Presses might be open ; it was the people's birthright and priviledge in time of Parlament, it was the breaking 5 forth of light ? But now the Bishops abrogated and voided out of the Church, as if our Reformation sought no more but to make room for others into their seats under another name, the Episcopall arts begin to bud again, the cruse of truth must run no more oyle, liberty loof Printing must be enthralled again under a Prelaticall commission of twenty, the privilege of the people nulli- fy'd, and which is wors, the freedom of learning must groan again and to her old fetters, all this the Parla- ment yet sitting. Although their own late arguments and 15 defences against the Prelats might remember them that this obstructing violence meets for the most part with an event utterly opposite to the end which it drives at : instead of suppressing sects and schisms, it raises them and invests them with a reputation. The punishing of 20 wits enhaunces their autority, saith the Vicount St. Albans y and a forhidd'H writing is thought to he a certain spark of truth that flies up in the faces of them who seeke to tread it out. This order therefore may prove a nursing mother to sects, but I shall easily shew how it will be a step- 25 dame to Truth : and first by disinabling us to the main- tenance of what is known already : Well knows he who uses to consider, that our faith and knowledge thrives by exercise as well as our limbs and complexion. Truth is compared in Scripture to a 30 streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in a per- petuall progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition. A man may be a heretick in the truth ; and if he beleeve things only because his AREOPAGITICA, 39 Pastor sayes so, or the Assembly so determins, without knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresie. There is not any burden that som would gladier post off to another 5 then the charge and care of their Religion. There be, who knows not that there be, of Protestants and profes- sors who live and dye in as arrant an implicit faith as any lay Papist of Loretto. A wealthy man addicted to his pleasure and to his profits finds Religion to be a traffick 10 so entangled and of so many piddling accounts, that of all mysteries he cannot skill to keep a stock going upon that trade. What shoulde he doe ? Fain he would have the name to be religious, fain he would bear up with his neighbours in that. What does he therefore but 15 resolvs to give over toyling, and to find himself out som factor, to whose care and credit he may commit the whole managing of his religous affairs, som Divine of note and estimation that must be. To him he ad- heres, resigns the whole ware-house of his religion with 20 all the locks and keyes into his custody; and indeed makes the very person of that man his religion ; esteems his associating with him a sufficient evidence and com- mendatory of his own piety. So that a man may say his religion is now no more within himself, but is be- 25 com a dividuall movable, and goes and comes neer him according as that good man frequents the house. He entertains him, gives him gifts, feasts him, lodges him ; his religion comes home at night, praies, is libe- rally supt, and sumptuously laid to sleep, rises, is saluted, 30 and after the malmsey, or some well spic't bruage, and' better breakfasted then he whose morning appetite would have gladly fed on green figs between Bethany and leru^ ialeniy his Religion walks abroad at eight, and leavs his 40 AREOPAGITICA. kind entertainer in the shop trading all day without his religion. Another sort there be who when they hear that all things shall be ordered, all things regulated and setl'd, 5 nothing written but what passes through the custom- house of certain Publicans that have the tunaging and the poundaging of all free spoken truth, will strait give themselvs up into your hands, mak'em and cut'em out what religion ye please. There be delights, there be I o recreations and jolly pastimes that will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock the tedious year as in a delightfuU dream. What need they torture their heads with that which others have tak'n so strictly and so unalterably into their own pourveying ? These are 15 the fruits which a dull ease and cessation of our know- ledge will bring forth among the people. How goodly, and how to be wisht were such an obedient unanimity as this, what a fine conformity would it starch us all into? Doubtles a stanch and solid peece of framework 20 as any January could freeze together. Nor much better will be the consequence ev'n among the Clergy themselvs. It is no new thing never heard of before for a parochiall Minister, who has his reward and is at his Hercules pillars in a warm benefice, to be 25 easily inclinable, if he have nothing else that may rouse up his studies, to finish his circuit in an English con- cordance and a topic folio, the gatherings and savings of a sober graduatship, a Harmony and a Catena, treading the constant round of certain common doctrinall heads, 30 attended with their uses, motives, marks and means, out of which as out of an alphabet or sol fa by forming and transforming, joyning and disjoyning variously a little book-craft, and two hours meditation might furnish him AREOPAGITICA. 4 1 unspeakably to the performance of more then a weekly charge of sermoning, not to reck'n up the infinit helps of interlinearies, breviaries, synopses^ and other loitering gear. But as for the multitude of Sermons ready printed sand pil'd up, on every text that is not difficult, our London trading St. Thomas in his vestry, and adde to boot St. Martin, and St. Hugh, have not within their hallow'd limits more vendible ware of all sorts ready made ; so that penury he never need fear of Pulpit pro- 10 vision, having where so plenteously to refresh his ma- gazin. But if his rear and flanks be not impal'd, if his back dore be not secured by the rigid licencer, but that a bold book may now and then issue forth, and give the assault to some of his old collections in their 15 trenches, it will concern him then to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good guards and sentinells about his receiv'd opinions, to walk the round and counter- round with his fellow inspectors, fearing lest any of his flock be seduc't, who also then would be better in- 20 structed, better exercis'd and disciplined. And God fend that the fear of this diligence which must then be us'd, doe not make us affect the lazines of a licencing Church. For if we be sure we are in the right, and doe not hold the truth guiltily, which becomes not, if we our- 25 selves condemn not our own weak and frivolous teach- ing, and the people for an untaught and irreligious gadding rout, what can be more fair then when a man judicious, learned, and of a conscience, for ought we know, as good as theirs that taught us what we know, 30 shall not privily from house to house, which is more dangerous, but openly by writing publish to the world what his opinion is, what his reasons, and wherefore that which is now thought cannot be sound? Christ 4 2 AREOPA GITICA, urg'd it as wherewith to justifie himself, that he preacht in publick ; yet writing is more publick then preaching, and more easie to refutation, if need be, there being so many whose businesse and profession meerly it is, to be 5 the champions of Truth ; which if they neglect, what can be imputed but their sloth, or inabilty ? Thus much we are hinder'd and dis-inur'd by this cours of licencing towards the true knowledge of what we seem to know. For how much it hurts and hinders 10 the licencers themselves in the calling of their Ministery, more then any secular employment, if they will discharge that office as they ought, so that of necessity they must neglect either the one duty or the other, I insist not, because it is a particular, but leave it to their own con- 15 science, how they will decide it there. There is yet behind of what I purposed to lay open, the incredible losse and detriment that this plot of licenc- ing puts us to. More then if som enemy at sea should stop up all our hav'ns and ports and creeks, it hinders 20 and retards the importation of our richest Marchandize, Truth; nay, it was first establisht and put in practice by Antichristian malice and mystery on set purpose to extinguish, if it were possible, the light of Reformation, and to settle falshood, little differing from that policie 25 wherewith the Turk upholds his Alcoran by the prohi- bition of Printing. 'Tis not deny'd, but gladly confest, we are to send our thanks and vows to heav'n louder then most of Nations for that great measure of truth which we enjoy, especially in those main points between 30 us and the Pope with his appertinences the Prelats ; but he who thinks we are to pitch our tent here, and have attained the utmost prospect of reformation, that the mortalle glasse wherein we contemplate can shew us, till AREOPAGITICA. 43 we come to beatific vision, that man by this very opinion declares that he is yet farre short of Truth. Truth indeed came once into the world with her divine Master, and was a perfect shape most glorious 5 to look on ; but when he ascended, and his Apostles after him were laid asleep, then strait arose a wicked race of deceivers, who, as that story goes of the ^Egyptian Typhon with his conspirators how they dealt with the good OsiriSy took the virgin Truth, hewd her lovely 10 form into a thousand peeces, and scattered them to the four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends of Truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful! search that Isis made for the mangl'd body of Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as 15 they could find them. We have not yet found them all. Lords and Commons, nor ever shall doe, till her Masters second comming; he shall bring together every joynt and member, and shall mould them into an im- mortall feature of loveliness and perfection. Suffer not 20 these licencing prohibitions to stand at every place of opportunity forbidding and disturbing them that con- tinue seeking, that continue to do our obsequies to the torn body of our martyred Saint. We boast our light; but if we look not wisely on the Sun it self, it 25 smites us into darknes. Who can discern those planets that are oft Combust, and those stars of brightest mag- nitude that rise and set with the Sun, untill the opposite motion of their orbs bring them to such a place in the firmament, where they may be seen evning or morning ? 30 The light which we have gain'd, was giv'n us, not to be ever staring on, but by it to discover onward things more remote from our knowledge. It is not the un- frocking of a Priest, the unmitring of a Bishop, and the 44 AREOPAGITICA. removing him from off the Presbyterian shoulders that will make us a happy Nation ; no, if other things as great in the Church and in the rule of life both economical! and political} be not lookt into and reformed, we have 5 lookt so long upon the blaze that Zuinglius and Calvin hath beaconed up to us, that we are stark blind. There be who perpetually complain of schisms and sects, and make it such a calamity that any man dissents from their maxims. 'Tis their own pride and ignorance which 10 causes the disturbing, who neither will hear with meek- nes nor can convince ; yet all must be supprest which is not found in their Syntagma, They are the troublers, they are the dividers of unity, who neglect and permit not others to unite those dissever'd peeces which are 15 yet wanting to the body of Truth. To be still search- ing what we know not by what we know, still closing up truth to truth as we find it (for all her body is homogeneal, and proportionall), this is the golden rule in Theology as well as in Arithmetick, and makes up the 20 best harmony in a Church, not the forc't and outward union of cold and neutrall and inwardly divided minds. Lords and Commons of England, consider what Na- tion it is wherof ye are and wherof ye are the gover- nours : a Nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, 25 ingenious, and piercing spirit, acute to invent, suttle and sinewy to discours, not beneath the reach of any point the highest that human capacity can soar to. Therefore the studies of learning in her deepest Sciences have bin so ancient and so eminent among us, that 30 Writers of good antiquity and ablest judgement have bin perswaded that ev'n the school of Pythagoras and the Persian wisdom took beginning from the old Philo- sophy of this Hand. * And that wise and civill Roman, AREOPA Gl TIC A. 4 5 Julius Agncolay who govem'd once here for Caesar ^ pre- ferr'd the naturall wits of Britain before the labour'd studies of the French. Nor is it for nothing that the grave and frugal Transikanian sends out yearly from 5 as farre as the mountanous borders of Russia and beyond the Hercynian wildernes, not their youth, but their stay'd men, to learn our language and our iheo- logic arts. Yet that which is above all this, the favour and the love of heav'n, we have great argument to think 10 in a peculiar manner propitious and propending towards us. Why else was this Nation chos'n before any other, that out of her as out of Sion should be proclam'd and sounded forth the first tidings and trumpet of Reforma- tion to all Europ ? And had it not bin the obstinat per- i5versnes of our Prelats against the divine and admirable spirit of Wicklef, to suppresse him as a schismatic and innovator y perhaps neither the Bohemiaii Husse ^iXi^Jeroniy no, nor the name of Luther or of Calvin had bin ever known; the glory of reforming all our neighbours had 20 bin compleatly ours. But now, as our obdurat Clergy have with violence demean'd the matter, we are become hitherto the latest and the backwardest Schollers, of whom God offer'd to have made us the teachers. Now once again by all concurrence of signs and by the generall in- 25 stinct of holy and devout men, as they daily and solemnly expresse their thoughts, God is decreeing to begin some new and great period in his Church, ev'n to the reform- ing of Reformation it self. What does he then but reveal Himself to his servants, and as his manner is, 30 first to his English-men; I say as his manner is, first to us, though we mark not the method of his counsels and are unworthy ? Behold now this vast City : a City of refuge, the mansion house of liberty, encompast and 46 AREOPAGITICA. surrounded with his protection ; the shop of warre hath not there more anvils and hammers waking, to fashion out the plates and instruments of armed Justice in defence of beleaguer'd Truth, then there be pens and K heads there, sitting by their studious lamps, musing, searching, revolving new notions and idea's wherewith to present as with their homage and their fealty the approaching Reformation, others as fast reading, trying all things, assenting to the force of reason and convince- loment. What could a man require more from a Nation so pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge ? What wants there to such a towardly and pregnant solle but wise and faithfull labourers, to make a knowing people, a Nation of Prophets, of Sages, and of Worthies? We 15 reckon more then five months yet to harvest; there need not be five weeks ; had we but eyes to hft up, the fields are white already. Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but know- 20 ledge in the making. Under these fantastic terrors of sect and schism, we wrong the earnest and zealous thirst after knowledge and understanding which God hath stirr'd up in this City. What some lament of, we rather should rejoyce at, should rather praise this pious for- 25 wardnes among men, to reassume the ill deputed care of their Religion into their own hands again. A little generous prudence, a little forbearance of one another, and som grain of charity might win all these diligences to joyn and unite in one generall and brotherly search 30 after Truth, could we but forgoe this Prelaticall tradi- tion of crowding free consciences and Christian liberties into canons and precepts of men. I doubt not, if some great and worthy stranger should come among us, wise AREOPAGITICA. 47 to discern the mould and temper of a people and how to govern it, observing the high hopes and aims, the diligent alacrity of our extended thoughts and reason- ings in the pursuance of truth and freedom, but that he 5 would cry out as Pirrhus did, admiring the Roman docility and courage : If such were my Epirois, I would not despair the greatest design that could be attempted to make a Church or Kingdom happy. Yet these are the men cry'd out against for schismaticks and sectaries; 10 as if, while the Temple of the Lord was building, some cutting, some squaring the marble, others hewing the cedars, there- should be a sort of irrationall men who could not consider there must be many schisms and many dis- sections made in the quarry and in the timber, ere the 15 house of God can be built. And when every stone is laid artfully together, it cannot be united into a continuity, it can but be contiguous in this world; neither can every peece of the building be of one form; nay, rather the perfection consists in this : that out of many moderat 20 varieties and brotherly dissimilitudes that are not vastly disproportionall arises the goodly and the grace- full symmetry that commends the whole pile and struc- ture. Let us therefore be more considerat builders, more wise in spirituall architecture, when great refor- 25mation is expected. For now the time seems come, wherein Moses the great Prophet may sit in heav'n re- joycing to see that memorable and glorious wish of his fulfill' d, when not only our seventy Elders but all the Lords people are become Prophets. No marvell then 30 though some men, and some good men too perhaps, but young in goodnesse, as Joshua then was, envy them. They fret, and out of their own weaknes are in agony, lest those divisions and subdivisions will undoe us. The 48 AREOPAGITICA. adversarie again applauds, and waits the hour; when they have branch t themselves out, saith he, small anough into parties and partitions, then will be our time. Fool ! he sees not the firm root, out of which we all grow 5 though into branches ; nor will beware untill hee see our small divided maniples cutting through at every angle of his ill united and unweildy brigade. And that we are to hope better of all these supposed sects and schisms, and that we shall not need that solicitude honest perhaps lo though over timorous of them that vex in this behalf, but shall laugh in the end at those malicious applauders of our differences, I have these reasons to perswade me : First, when a City shall be as it were besieg'd and blockt about, her navigable river infested, inrodes and 15 incursions round, defiance and battell oft rumor'd to be marching up ev'n to her walls and suburb trenches, that then the people, or the greater part, more then at other times, wholly tak'n up with the study of highest and most important matters to be reform' d, 20 should be disputing, reasoning, reading, inventing, dis- coursing, ev'n to a rarity, and admiration, things not before discourst or writt'n of, argues first a singular good will, contentednesse and confidence in your pru- dent foresight and safe government, Lords and Com- 25mons; and from thence derives it self to a gallant bravery and well grounded contempt of their enemies, as if there were no small number of as great spirits among us, as his was, who when Rome was nigh be- sieg'd by Hanihal, being in the City, bought that peece 30 of ground at no cheap rate, whereon Hanibal himself encampt his own regiment. Next it is a lively and cherfull presage of our happy successe and victory. For as in a body, when the blood is fresh, the spirits AREOPAGITICA. 49 pure and vigorous not only to vital but to rational! faculties and those in the acutest and the pertest operations of wit and suttlety, it argues in what good plight and constitution the body is, so when the cher- 5 fulnesse of the people is so sprightly up, as that it has not only wherewith to guard well its own freedom and safety but to spare, and to bestow upon the solidest and sublimest points of controversie and new inven- tion, it betokens us not degenerated, nor drooping to a 10 fatal! decay, but casting off the old and wrincl'd skin of corruption to outlive these pangs and wax young again, entring the glorious waies of Truth and pros- perous vertue destin'd to become great and honourable in these latter ages. Methinks I see in my mind a J 5 noble and puissant Nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks. Methinks I see her as an Eagle muing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazl'd eyes at the full mid- day beam, purging and unsealing her long abused 20 sight at the fountain it self of heav'nly radiance, while the whole noise of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter about, amaz'd at what she means, and in their envious gabble would prognosticat a year of sects and schisms. 25 What should ye doe then, should ye suppresse all this flowry crop of knowledge and new light sprung up and yet springing daily in this City, should ye set an Oligarchy of twenty ingrossers over it, to bring a famin upon our minds again, when we shall know nothing 30 but what is measured to us by their bushel? Beleeve it, Lords ^ and Commons, they who counsell ye to such a suppressing doe as good as bid ye suppresse your- ^ 'Lord,' ed. oi 1644. S 50 AREOPA GITICA . selves; and I will soon shew how. If it be desir'd to know the immediat cause of all this free writing and free speaking, there cannot be assigned a truer then your own mild and free and human government; it 5 is the liberty, Lords and Commons, which your own valorous and happy counsels have purchast us, liberty which is the nurse of all great wits ; this is that which hath rarify'd and enlightnM our spirits like the influence of heav'n ; this is that which hath enfranchis'd, enlarged loand lifted up our apprehensions degrees above them- selves. Ye cannot make us now lesse capable, lesse knowing, lesse eagarly pursuing of the truth, unlesse ye first make your selves, that made us so, lesse the lovers, lesse the founders of our true liberty. We can 15 grow ignorant again, brutish, formall, and slavish, as ye found us; but you then must first become that which ye cannot be, oppressive, arbitrary, and tyrannous, as they were from whom ye have free'd us. That our hearts are now more capacious, our thoughts more 20 erected to the search and expectation of greatest and exactest things, is the issue of your owne vertu propa- gated in us ; ye cannot suppresse that unlesse ye rein- force an abrogated and mercilesse law, that fathers may dispatch at will their own children. And who shall then 25 sticke closest to ye, and excite others ? Not he who takes up armes for cote and conduct and his four nobles of Danegelt. Although I dispraise not the defence of just immunities, yet love my peace better, if that were all. Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue 30 freely according to conscience, above all liberties. What would be best advis'd then, if it be found so hurtful! and .so unequall to suppresse opinions for the newnes or the unsutablenes to a customary acceptance, AREOPAGITICA, 5 1 will not be my task to say; I only shall repeat what I have learnt from one of your own honourable number, a right noble and pious lord, who had he not sacrificed his life and fortunes to the Church and Commonwealth, 5 we had not now mist and bewayl'd a worthy and un- doubted patron of this argument. Ye know him I am sure ; yet I for honours sake, and may it be eternall to him, shall name him, the Lord Brook. He writing of Episcopacy, and by the way treating of sects and lo schisms, left Ye his vote, or rather now the last words of his dying charge, which I know will ever be of dear and honoured regard with Ye, so full of meeknes and breathing charity, that next to his last testament, who bequeath'd love and peace to his Disciples, I cannot 15 call to mind where I have read or heard words more mild and peaceful!. He there exhorts us to hear with patience and humility those, however they be mis- call' d, that desire to live purely, in such a use of Gods Ordinances, as the best guidance of their conscience 20 gives them, and to tolerat them, though in some dis- conformity to our selves. The book it self will tell us more at large being publisht to the world and dedi- cated to the Parlament by him who both for his hfe and for his death deserves, that what advice he left be 25 not laid by without perusall. And now the time in speciall is by priviledge to write and speak what may help to the furder dis- cussing of matters in agitation. The Temple oi Ja7ius with his two controversal faces might now not unsignifi- 30 cantly be set open. And though all the windes of doctrin were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licencing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and £ 2 62 AREOPAGITICA. Falshood grapple ; who ever knew Truth put to the wors in a free and open encounter? Her confuting is the best and surest suppressing. He who hears what praying there is for Hght and clearer knowledge to be 5 sent down among us, would think of other matters to be constituted beyond the discipline of Geneva^ fram'd and fabric't already to our hands. Yet when the new light w^hich we beg for shines in upon us, there be who envy and oppose, if it come not first in at their case- joments. What a collusion is this, whenas we are ex- horted by the wise man to use diligence, to seek for wisdom as for hidden treasures early and late, that another order shall enjoyn us to know nothing but by statute ! When a man hath bin labouring the hardest 15 labour in the deep mines of knowledge, hath furnisht out his findings in all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a battell raung'd, scattered and de- feated all objections in his way, calls out his adver- sary into the plain, offers him the advantage of wind 20 and sun, if he please, only that he may try the matter by dint of argument, for his opponents then to sculk, to lay ambushments, to keep a narrow bridge of licenc- ing where the challenger should passe, though it be valour anough in shouldiership, is but weaknes and 25 cowardise in the wars of Truth, For who knows not that Truth is strong next to the Almighty ? She needs no policies, no stratagems, nor licencings to make her victorious ; those are the shifts and the defences that error uses against her power. Give her but room, and 30 do not bind her when she sleeps, for then she speaks not true, as the old Proteus did, who spake oracles only when he was caught and bound ; but then rather she turns herself into aU shapes except her own, and AREOPAGITICA. 53 perhaps tunes her voice according to the time, as Micaiah did before Ahab, untill she be adjur'd into her own likenes. Yet is it not impossible that she may- have more shapes then one. What else is all that rank 5 of things indifferent, wherein Truth may be on this side or on the other without being unlike her self? What but a vain shadow else is the abolition of those ordi- nances ^ that hand writing nayVd to the crosse, what great purchase is this Christian liberty which Paul so 10 often boasts of? His doctrine is, that he who eats or eats not, regards a day or regards it not, may doe either to the Lord. How many other things might be tolerated in peace and left to conscience, had we but charity, and were it not the chief strong hold of our 15 hypocrisie to be ever judging one another. I fear yet this iron yoke of outward conformity hath left a slavish print upon our necks; the ghost of a linnen decency yet haunts us. We stumble and are impatient at the least dividing of one visible congregation from another, 20 though it be not in fundamentalls ; and through our forwardnes to suppresse, and our backwardnes to re- cover any enthralled peece of truth out of the gripe of custom, we care not to keep truth separated from truth, which is the fiercest rent and disunion of all. 25 We doe not see that while we still affect by all means a rigid externall formality, we may as soon fall again into a grosse conforming stupidity, a stark and dead congealment of wood and hay and stubble forc't and frozen together, which is more to the sudden degene- 30 rating of a Church then many subdichotomies of petty schisms. Not that I can think well of every light sepa- ration, or that all in a Church is to be expected gold and silver and pretious stones ; it is not possible for man 64 AREOPAGITICA. to sever the wheat from the tares, the good fish from the other frie ; that must be the Angels Ministery at the end of mortall things. Yet if all cannot be of one mind, as who looks they should be? this doubtles is more 5 wholsome, more prudent, and more Christian : that many be tolerated rather than all compell'd. I mean not tolerated Popery and open superstition, which as it extirpats all religions and civill supremacies, so it self should be extirpat, provided first that all charitable 10 and compassionat means be us*d to win and regain the weak and misled ; that also which is impious or evil absolutely either against faith or maners no law can possibly permit, that intends not to unlaw it self; but those neighboring differences, or rather indifferences, 15 are what I speak of, whether in some point of doctrine or of discipline, which though they may be many, yet need not interrupt the unity of Spirit, if we could but find among us the bond of peace. In the mean while if any one would write, and bring his helpfuU hand to the 20 slow-moving Reformation which we labour under, if Truth have spok'n to him before others, or but seem'd at least to speak, who hath so bejesuited us that we should trouble that man with asking licence to doe so worthy a deed? And not consider this, that if it come 25 to prohibiting, there is not ought more likely to be prohibited then truth it self; whose first appearance to our eyes blear'd and dimmed with prejudice and custom, is more unsightly and unplausible then many errors, ev'n as the person is of many a great man slight and 30 contemptible to see to. And what doe they tell us vainly of new opinions, when this very opinion of theirs, that none must be heard but whom they like, is the worst and newest opinion of all others; and is the AREOPA GITICA, 55 chief cause why sects and schisms doe so much abound, and true knowledge is kept at distance from us? Besides' yet a greater danger which is in it: for when God shakes a Kingdome with strong and healthfull 5 commotions to a generall reforming, 'tis not untrue that many sectaries and false teachers are then busiest in seducing; but yet more true it is, that God then raises to his own w^ork men of rare abilities and more then common industry not only to look back and revise ic what hath bin taught heretofore, but to gain furder and goe on some new enlightn'd steps in the discovery of truth. For such is the order of Gods enlightning his Church, to dispense and deal out by degrees his beam, so as our earthly eyes may best sustain it. Neither 15 is God appointed and confind, where and out of what place these his chosen shall be first heard to speak ; for he sees not as man sees, chooses not as man chooses, lest we should devote our selves again to set places and assemblies and outward callings of men, planting our 20 faith one while in the old Convocation house, and another while in the Chappell at Westminster; when all the faith and religion that shall be there canonized, is not sufficient, without plain convincement and the charity of patient instruction, to supple the least bruise 25 of conscience, to edifie the meanest Christian, who de- sires to walk in the Spirit, and not in the letter of human trust, for all the number of voices that can be there made; no, though Harry the 7. himself there, with all his leige tombs about him, should lend them 30 voices from the dead, to swell their number. And if the men be erroneous who appear to be the leading schismaticks, what witholds us but our sloth, our self- will, and distrust in the right cause, that we doe not 56 AREOPAGITICA. give them gentle meetings and -gentle dismissions, that we debate not and examin the matter throughly with liberall and frequent audience; if not for their sakes, yet for our own, seeing no man who hath tasted 5 learning, but will confesse the many waies of profiting by those who not contented with stale receits are able to manage and set forth new positions to the world? And were they but as the dust and cinders of our feet, so long as in that notion they may serve to polish lo and brighten the armoury of Truth, ev'n for that respect they were not utterly to be cast away. But if they be of those whom God hath fitted for the speciall use of these times with eminent and ample gifts, and those perhaps neither among the Priests nor among the 15 Pharisees, and we in the hast of a precipitant zeal shall make no distinction, but resolve to stop their mouths, because we fear they come with new and dangerous opinions, as we commonly fore-judge them ere we un- derstand them, no lesse then woe to us, while, thinking 20 thus to defend the Gospel, we are found the persecutors. There have bin not a few since the beginning of this Parlament, both of the Presbytery and others, who by their unlicen't books to the contempt of an Imprimatur first broke that triple ice clung about our hearts, and 25 taught the people to see day. I hope that none of those were the perswaders to renew upon us this bondage which they themselves have wrought so much good by contemning. But if neither the check that Moses gave to young Joshua, nor the countermand which our Saviour 30 gave to young John, who was so ready to prohibit those whom he thought unlicenc't, be not anough to admonish our Elders how unacceptable to God their testy mood of prohibiting is, if neither their own remembrance what AREOPAGITICA. 57 evill hath abounded in the Church by this lett of licenc- ing, and what good they themselves have begun by trans- gressing it, be not anough, but that they will perswade and execute the most Dominican part of the Inquisition 5 over us, and are already with one foot in the stirrup so active at suppressing, it would be no unequall distribu- tion in the first place to suppresse the suppressors them- selves; whom the change of their condition hath puft up more then their late experience of harder times hath 10 rnade wise. And as for regulating the Presse, let no man think to have the honour of advising ye better then your selves have done in that Order publisht next before this : that no book be Printed, unlesse the Printers and the Authors 15 name, or at least the Printers be registered. Those which otherwise come forth, if they be found mischievous and libellous, the fire and the executioner will be the time- liest and the most eifectuall remedy, that mans prevention can use. , For this authentic Spanish policy of licencing 20 books, if I have said ought, will prove the most unlicenc't book it self within a short while ; and was the immediat image of a Star-chamber decree to that purpose made in those very times when that Court did the rest of those her pious works, for which she is now fall'n from the 25 Starres with Lucifer, Whereby ye may guesse what kinde of State prudence, what love of the people, what care of Religion, or good manners there was at the con- triving, although with singular hypocrisie it pretended to bind books to their good behaviour. And how it got 30 the upper hand of your precedent Order so well con- stituted before, if we may beleeve those men whose pro- fession gives them cause to enquire most, it may be doubted there was in it the fraud of some old patentees 58 AREOPAGITICA, and monopolizers in the trade of book-selling ; who under pretence of the poor in their Company not to be de- frauded, and the just retaining of each man his severall copy, which God forbid should be gainsaid, brought 5 divers glosing colours to the House, which were indeed but colours, and serving to no end except it be to exer- cise a superiority over their neighbours, men who doe not therefore labour in an honest profession to which learning is indetted, that they should be made other 10 mens vassals. Another end is thought was aym'd at by some of them in procuring by petition this Order, that having power in their hands, malignant books might the easier scape abroad, as the event shews. But of these Sophisms and Elenchs of marchandize I skill not. This 15 I know, that errois in a good government and in a bad are equally almost incident; for what Magistrate may not be mis-inform*d, and much the sooner, if liberty of Printing be reduc't into the power of a few? But to redresse willingly and speedily what hath bin err'd, and ?o in highest autority to esteem a plain advertisement more then others have done a sumptuous bribe, is a vertue (honour'd Lords and Commons) answerable to Your highest actions, and whereof none can participat but. greatest and wisest men. NOTES. NOTES, Page 1. Observe that the Speech opens with what the Greek gram- marians called an ' anacoluthon,' = a syntactical ' non sequitur ' or inco- herence. The sense is plain enough; only the grammatical letter is violated. Such carelessnesses are common in Milton's prose writings, as in Clarendon's and others of the seventeenth century, till Dryden introduced a more correct style. With the instance in the text compare such Latin and Greek uses of the nominative as in Virgil, ^neid, xii. i6i, &c. ; of the accusative in Sophocles, Antigone 21, &c. ; and Thucydides* use of the dative, as in v. ili, voWois 'ycip irpoopcvfxcvois k.t.\. Line i. They who to States^ &c., i.e. (i) orators, and (ii) writers. jS'/a/es = heads of states. Holt White quotes from Milton*s translation of Psahn Ixxxii : • God in the great assembly stands Of kings and lordly States* Also from Sidney's Arcadia : * I can do nothing without all the States of Arcadia ; what they will determine I know not,' &c. Compare how the names of their kingdoms are used to denote the kings themselves ; as e. g. in King Lear France = King of France, &c. 3. wanting^ not = wishing for, or needing, but being without. See below, p. 102. in a private condition. These words explain how * access* is * wanted * = as being private men. 6. a//er'c?= changed, perturbed. Alter is literally to make other or different. 7. sttccfss = issue. The word was by no means confined in Milton's time to a favourable sense. Thus Paradise Regained, iv. i : * Perplex'd and troubled at his had success^ The tempter stood.' 8. r«nswr^ = opinion. This word in Milton's time was not limited to denote only unfavourable judgment. See Shakspere passim ; as Hamlet, i, 3. 69 : * Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.* of what, &c. = born of, springing from, based on what. as the subject was, 8cc, This speech was published in November, 1644; see Introduction. The works that had preceded it were, Of Reformation in England, Prelatical Episcopacy, Reason of Church Government, Animadver- sions, &c., all published in 1641 ; Apology for Smectymnuus in 1642. The Tractate on Education, The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, and Martin Bucer's Judgment were published in the same year with the Areopagitica. 6% AREOPAGITICA. [P. i. 12. likely. This adverb is still retained in Lowland Scotch, and in the phrase most likely. [might disclose. What is the grammatical subject to might disclose f] 13. formost. See Morris's English Accidence, § 123. 16. to a passion = into a state of intense feeling, of excitement and enthu- siasm. Milton is often * carried away * — • rapt ' — by his subject in this splendid work. then = OUT than. See Morris*s English Accidence, § 312, [17. Explain incidentall to a Preface."] 18. though I stay not, &c. = though I confess at once. it = to wish and promote their countries liberty. 22. a certain testimony, if not a Trophey. It will show how ready I am to fight for my country, whether I conquer or not. In this particular cause he was not to conquer for some fifty years. The Areopagitica became a * trophy* as well as a * testimony* in 1694. ^^^ Introduction. P. 2, 1. 5. to which, &c. Milton had not yet perhaps fully discovered the disheartening fact that the Presbyterian party when in power was to show itself as little capable of an enlightened tolerance as the Episcopalians whom they had overthrown — that * new foes* were arising * Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains,* and re-enlhrall ' free conscience * — that, really as well as etymologically, * New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large.* are , . . arrived, A more accurate phrase than our have arrived. 7. and yet from such a steep disadvantage, &c. We were so sunken that our rising again might well have seemed hopeless and impossible, as was the rising again of the Romans after their decline and fall, all whose * manhood * ( = Lat. virtus, manliness, valour) could not recover them ; and yet we have recovered ourselves. [13. Neither is it^ &c. Explain // here.] 15. which if I now first, &c. His Of Reformation in England, for instance, is filled with delight at what he was witnessing, and praise of those who were accomplishing it. See also An Apology for Smectymnuus, passim. 19. unwillingest. See below, p. 93. 22. courtship. See Comus, 321-5 : * Shepherd, I take thy word, And trust thy honest ofFer'd courtesy. Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds With smoky rafters, than in tap'stry halls And courts of princes, where it first was named And yet is most pretended* The word court is itself of humble origin — from Lat. cohortem = z farm- yard ; see Max Miiller's Lectures on the Science of Language, 2nd Series. 25. the other here denotes the third of the * three principal things ' = what is called the latter just below. So sometimes in Elizabethan English both, the conjunction, is used when more than two objects arc linked together ; so p. 3.] NOTES, 6^ also neither. This use of other is the more odd, because it is in fact the native word for second. Second is a French word. 28. heretofore. See especially Animadversions upon the Remonstrant's Defence against Smectymnuus, and An Apology for Smectymnuus. 29. rescuing, 8cc. See An Apology for Smectymnuus; especially Sect. viii. p. 89, Of Works : * And can this private concoctor of malecontent at the very instant when he pretends to extol the parliament, afford thus to blur over rather than to mention that public triumph of their justice and con- stancy, so high, so glorious, so reviving to the fainted commonwealth, with such a suspicious and murmuring expression as to call it " some proceedings"? [He is dealing with Hall's remarks on the execution of Strafford.] And yet immediately he falls to glossing, as if he were the only man that rejoiced at these times. But I shall discover to ye, readers, that this his praising of them is as full of nonsense and scholastic foppery as his meaning he himself discovers to be full of close malignity. His first encomium is,' &c. &c. For another eulogy of the Long Parliament see The Judgment of Martin Bucer concerning Divorce : * And having now perfected a second edition, I referred the judging thereof to your high and impartial sentence, honoured lords and commons. For I was confident, if anything generous, anything noble and above the multitude were left yet in the spirit of England, it could be nowhere sooner found, and nowhere sooner understood than in that house of justice and true liberty where ye sit in council.' him who went about, &c. = Hall, Bishop of Norwich, * the Remonstrant,* who had answered Smectymnuus, and in his answer had 'damned* the Parliament * with faint praise,' as Milton thought; see above. See Hall's Modest Confutation of a Slanderous and Scurrilous Libel intituled Animadversions upon the Remonstrant's Defence against Smectymnuus. Milton calls the praise Hall confers * trivial, since it deals in commonplaces ; malignant (dis- loyal to the Commonwealth), since it assumes that the Parliament is inseparable from the Crown.* (Jebb.) Hall was of no mean note in literature, quite apart from the Smectymnuus controversy, in which he was so mercilessly derided. He was one of our earliest writers of formal satire ; his Virgideniiae was first published in 1597-9 ; but his prose is better than his verse. His Occasional Meditations enjoyed and deserved a wide popularity. He was bom at Bristow Park, Leicestershire ; died at Heigham, whither he retired after his deposition from his bishopric, in 1656. went about to, &c. = found and took the way to, set himself to. Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, Li: * He that goeth about to persuade a multitude,' &c. P. 3, I. 3. ye. • The confusion between ye and you did not exist in Old English. Ye was always used as a nom., and you as a dat. or ace. In the English Bible this distinction is very carefully observed, but in the dramatists of the Elizabethan period there is a very loose use of the two forms. Not only is ^q«. used as a nom., but ye is used as an ace' Morris's Historical Outlines of English Accidence, § 1 55* ' ..... 64 AREOPAGITICA, [P. 3. 11. «gwaZ/ = fair, equitable ; Lsit.aequus; Ezek. xxxill. 20. Cp. uneqimll, below, p. 50. 12. when as, Cp. whereas, whenso, whereso, whoso, &c. As ( = al so=s all so) and so may have been affixed to certain relative words to give greater precision of meaning; thus whereas =]ust where, whenas = ]usl when. Comp. Gr. S^ as in kmi^ri, &c. 14. s/a//s/s = statesmen. Johnson quotes Shakspere, Cymb. ii. 4. 1 7, and Par, Reg. iv. 354 (where see Jerram's note) : * Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those The top of eloquence, statists indeed And lovers of their country.* See also Hamlet, v. 2. 33. 16. a triennial Parlament. It was provided by the Act passed Feb. 15, 1641, * for the prevention of inconveniences happening by the long intermission of parliaments' (16 Car. I. c. i), that Parliament should meet at least once in three years^ &c. This Act was repealed in 1664 (16 Car. II. c. i). It must not be confounded with what is called * the Triennial Bill,' passed in 1694, repealed in 1 7 16, which enacted that no Parliament should in future sit more than three years, 17. that jealous hautinesse. Sec, He refers generally to those vin famous courts, the Star Chamber and the Court of High Commission ; and more particularly to the Committee of Council, or Committee of State, * which was reproachfully after called the Junto, and enviously then in the Court the Cabinet.' (Clarendon.) Cp. 'the politic Cabin at Whitehall.' (Eikonoklastes.) cabin Counsellors, The diminutive form cabinet, which we now prefer, is also found in Elizabethan writers; thus Bacon's Essays, Of Counsell : *The doctrine of Italy and practice of France, in some kings' times, hath intro- duced cabinet councils.' Cabin* is the Fr. cabane, the Low Lat. capanna, which is perhaps of Keltic origin ; see Brachet, Diez, Wedgwood. Brachet quotes from Isidore of Seville: *Tuguri*m parva casa est; hoc rustici capanna vocant.* [19. in the midd*st of your victories and successes. Make a list of these.] 20. brooking. This brook is from the Oldest Eng. brucan, cognate with Germ, braucken, Lat. fruor^ fructus, &c. It occurs in the sense of * enjoy' in the older version of Chevy Chase, 1. 129: * But, perse, and I brook my lyffe, thy deth well quyte shall be.' See Skeat's Specimens from 1394 to 1 5 79, p. 74; also Morris's Chaucer's Prologue, Glossary. Brook, a streamlet, is cognate with break, Sec, 25. cw7/ = refined, polished, cultivated. So civility = civilisation ; thus Davies on Ireland, apud Johnson : * Divers great monarchies have risen from barbarism to civility, and fallen again to ruin.* See Jerram's Par. Reg. iv. 83. 28. of being new or insolent ^o^ doing anything that seems strange or overweening. Or insolent may have its older meaning of * unusual/ ' eiira- ordinary * ; see Trench's Sdect Glossary. p. 4.] NOTES. 55 30. the old and elegant humanity of Greece. Perhaps no one — at least no modem — has ever studied the Greek writers with intenser appreciation and delight than Milton. See his Letter to Leonard Philaras the Athenian (1654) • * ^ h^^^ always been devotedly attached to the literature of Greece, and particularly to that of your Athens.' See his works passim. The Areopagitica itself is an illustration : scarcely more notable even in point of form is the Samson Agonistes. In the medieval universities the term * humanity' was used especially of Latin culture, as still in Scotland. Greek culture was a comparatively new, and still a rare thing in the seventeenth century. 2,1, of a Hunnish and Norwegian sta/elines = o^ the dictatorial overbearing Huns and Goths of the $o-callCd Dark Ages. On the Huns see Smith's Gibbon, iii. ch. 26. 33. />o///tf = polished, refined. * Polite learning* was a common phrase in the last century. For some account of the Revival of Learning, see Hallam's Middle Ages, last chapter, and the first chapter of his Literature of Europe. A worthy history of that great movement has yet to be written. 33. ytf/ = still. See II Penseroso 30, and note in Longer English Poems. Jutlanders^ i.e. rude and barbarous as were our ancestors before they were refined by southern civilisation. Jutes are said to have settled in Hampshire and the Isle of Wight. See Smith's Marsh's Lectures on the English Language, p. 10; Vernon's Anglo-Saxon Guide, p. 118, &c. P. 4. I. Jum who from his private house, &c. = Isokrates. See Intro- duction. 3. perswades = \% for persuading. So often the present in Latin. 7. C///« = States, Lat. civitates, 5/mor/M = lordships, baronies. So Shakspere, Tempest, i. 2. 70-72: • As at that time Through all the signiories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke,* &c. Richard II, iii. i. 22, iv. i. 89, 9. Dion Prusaeus was surnamed Chrysostomos, or of the golden lips, for his eloquence. He was born at Prusa in Bithynia, about the middle of the first century of onr aera ; presently went to Rome. Expelled with other philosophers by Domitian, he travelled in Thrace, Mysia, Scythia, and amongst the Getae ; he returned to Rome immediately after the accession of Nerva ; then to Prusa about loo a.d., whence in disgust with the petty- mindedness of his fellow-citizens he went back to Rome, where he died about 117 A.D. Niebuhr, in his Lectures on Roman History, iii. 235, 3rd edit. ed. Schmitz, speaks with great admiration of his talents. See Smith's larger Greek and Roman Biography. The speech here referred to is the Rhodian Discourse ('Po5ta«dy A.(570s), in which the orator makes his protest against the Rhodian habit of re-using, $0 to speak, their public statues, which were from time to time made to do duty for the reigning favourites, the inscriptions altered, 13. a life wholly dedicated to studious labours. See Eleg. i. 35 : F 66 AREOPAGITICA. [P. 4, •Tempora nam I'.cet hie placidis dare libera Musis, Et totum rapiunt me, mea vita, libri.' Ad Familiares, Ep. vi : * It is also in my favour that your method of study is such as to admit of frequent interruptions, in which you visit your friends, write letters, or go abroad ; but it is my way to suffer no impediment, no love of ease, no avocation whatever, to chill the ardour, to break the continuity, or divert the completion of my literary pursuits.* Also Ep. vii, where he gives some account of his studies : ' I went through the perusal of the Greek authors to the time when they ceased to be Greeks,' &c. Apology for Smectymnuus : * . . , the wearisome labours and studious watchings, wherein I have spent and tired out almost a whole youth.* On Education : ' But if you can accept of these few observations which have flowered off, and are as it were the burnishing of many studious and con- templative years, altogether spent in the search of religious and civil knowledge and such as pleased you so well in the relating, I here give you them to dispose of.* A Treatise on Christian Doctrine : ' I entered upon an assiduous course of study in my youth,' &c. 14. those natural endowments. Sec. He was not always without doubt as to whether his genius could flourish in our latitude, so * far from the sun and summer gale' (see Gray's Progress of Poesy, 83), whose beams and breath had fostered the wits of Greece. See Reason of Church Govern- ment, ii : * If to the instinct of nature and the imboldening of art, aught may be trusted ; and that there be nothing adverse in our climate or the fate of this age, it haply would be no rashness, from an equal diligence and inclin- ation, to present the like offer in our own ancient stories.* Paradise Lost, ix, 41-47 : • Me of these Nor skilled nor studious, higher argument Remains, sufficient of itself to raise That name, unless an age too late, or cold Climate, or years, damp my intended wing Depress'd ; and much they may, if all be mine. Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.* the worst. It is possible worst may be a misprint for worse; but there is no authority for saying that it is so. Certainly the worst gives a quite satisfactory meaning,— one wholly different from that which the worse would give. [State distinctly the respective meanings.] 16. derogated ==suhtT2iciGd, the opp. of arrogated. See Cicero, pro Roscio Amerino 32: * Non mihi tantum derogo, tametsi nihil arrogo.^ Milton means that, studious as he has been and happy as he is in his birth country, yet he cannot equal himself with those orators to whom he has just referred ; what is wanting in him as compared with those orators must be more than com- pensated for by the superiority of the audience he addresses to those whom they for the niost part addressed. 1 7. obtain, Cp. Dryden apud Johnson : * The conclusion of the story I p. 5] NOTES. 67 forbore, because I could not obtain from myself to shew Absolom unfor- tunate.* 3 1 . that Order. See Introduction. P. 5, 1. 3. that part which preserves, &c. = which acknowledges and protects • copyright.* See in the Order the sentence beginning, ' And that no person or persons shall hereafter print, or cause to be printed/ &c. Cp. Clause vii. of the Star Chamber Decree. 4. or provides for the poor. See that same sentence. 6. painful = painstaking, laborious. See Trench's Select Glossary, s. v. Fuller's Holy State, ii. 6 : * O the holiness of their living and painfulness of their preaching.' 7. Observe the divisions of the Speech here proposed. He will point out who are I. The Authors of the book-licensing system, pp. 5-13. II. * What is to be thought in general of reading books, whatever sort they be, and whether be more the benefit or harm that thence proceeds,* pp. 13-23. III. * That this order of licensing conduces nothing to the end for which it was framed,' pp. 22-29. IV. It will not only do no good ; it will do immense harm in discouraging the pursuit of learning and the search after truth, pp. 29 to end. that other clause, &c. See the sentence beginning 'It is therefore ordered,* &c. brother is adjectival here, = brother-like, i.e. kindred, cognate. Comp. 'brother-love* in Henry VIII, v. 3. 1 73. For the meaning comp. the Greek dScX^of, as in Soph. Antig. 192: Koi vvv ddfXcpcL rupSe Kijpv^as €XMd/ Johnson : * I have com- posed prayers out of the Church Collects adventural, quadragesimal, paschal, or Pentecostal.* Holt White quotes from Cartwright's Ordinary ; ' But quadragesimal wits and fancies leane As Ember weeks.* (Hazlitt's Dodsley's Old English Plays, xii. 268.) Comp. Quadragesima Sundays 1st Sunday in Lent. Milton here refers to the restrictions as to food during Lent, which were in some degree retained by the English Church after the Reformation. Certain days were appointed for * fish-days,' for the non-observance of which ' licenses* were granted. * Queen Elizabeth used to say that she would never eat flesh in Lent without obtaining license from her little black husband' ( = Archbishop Whitgift). (Walton's life of Hooker.) See also 2 Henry IV, ii. 4. 375. 9. matrimonial = marriage licenses. Milton regarded marriage simply as a civil contract, not at all as a * sacrament.' It was formally made so by an Ordinance, and in 1653 by an Act of Parliament, ratified in 1656. Seo 68 AREOPAGITICA. [P. 5. The Likeliest Means to remove Hirelings out of the Church: *As for marriages, that ministers should meddle with them, as not sanctified or legitimate without their celebration, I find no ground in Scripture either of precept or example. Likeliest it is (which our Selden hath well observed, 1. ii. c. 58 Ux. Eb.) that in imitation of heathen priests, who were wont at nuptials to use many rites and ceremonies, and especially judging it would be profitable and the encrease of their authority not to be spectators only in a business of such concernment to the life of man, they insinuated that marriage was not holy without their benediction, and for the better colour made it a Sacrament, being of itself a civil ordinance, a household contract/ &c., &c. (Works, p. 431.) when the Prelats expired. Episcopacy was not formally abolished till October 9, 1646 ; but the bishops had lost their 'status' some years before. They wera ejected from the House of Peers early in 1641, and so had •expired* as 'prelates,* the title 'prelates* denoting their civil position: see Holt White's note on Prelaty and Episcopacy, ^. 122. atiend =lmn towards, direct my mind to. So the Latin attendot as Cicero, Philippics, ii. 12. 30: * Stuporem hominis attendite.* 10. homily. Cp. As You Like It, iii. 2. 164: 'What tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried Have patience, good people.' The word originally means (i) * communion,* 'intercourse'; (ii) then especially the association of pupil with master, and so instruction ; and (iii) lastly, a special form of ecclesiastical instruction. For (ii) see Xenophon's Memorabilia, i. 2. 6 : Tovs be Kafi/SdvovTas ttjs 6|jiiXCas fiicOov avhpaiTohKTThs kavrwv dTT€Kd\€i did t6 dva-yKoiov avToii uvai bia\€y€(T6ai trap* ojv dv Kd^oiev rbv fiiaOov. So lb. 15; comp. ojjuXtjtA in 12. (Comp. = top, bunch, craw of a bird. According to Wedgwood the radical notion is a knob; Gael, crapy cnap, Welsh crob^ crwb, crub, Ital. groppo. In Piers Plowman, xvi. 42, B. text, it = a tree- top; cp. Chaucer's Prologue 7. To crop = to take the top oflf; comp. io top, to skirtf to peel, &c. 22. He now addresses himself to Point I, see p. 6*^. 27. but doe contain, &c. Cp. Bacon's Advancement of Learning, T. viii. 6, p. 72, ed. Aldis Wright: * It is not possible to have the true pictures or statues of Cyrus, Alexander, Caesar, no, nor of the kings or great person- ages of much later years ; for the originals cannot last, and the copies cannot but leese of the life and truth. But the images of men*s wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted from the wrong of time and capable of perpetual renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images because they generate still and cast their seeds in the minds of others, provoking and causing in- finite actions and opinions in succeeding ages.' &Ct p. 6.] NOTES. 69 29. wo// = vial = phial, Gr. p(vovv dfjLovaovs nal fiefirjvoras ^ivovs. Aristophanes, Vespae 1074, &c. Plato couples dfxovaia with dnfipoKaXtat Republic, 403 C. 33. their owne Laconick Apothegms. Plato speaks of Ppaxvkoyla tis Aaxojvitcfj = * z sort of laconic terseness* (Protagoras, 343 B). In his De Legibus (641 E) he speaks of Lacedaemon being commonly known as fipaxv- 74 AREOPAGITICA. [P. 7. \oyos, Crete as iroXvXoyos, 8cc. The ancient writers, and indeed the modern, abound with references to, and instances of, this Spartan charac- teristic. See Plutarch's Lives passim, and his (or his son's) collection of Apothegms; Cicero's Ep. Fam. xi. 25. 2, &c. It has given us the word laconic in the sense of terse. apothegms. Properly spelled apophthegms. Gr. airocpOiyiw., lit. = some- thing said plainly. P. 8,1. I. Archilochis. Flor. 714-676 B.C. * Plutarch (Inst. Lacon. 239 B) states that Archilochus was banished from Sparta the very hour that he arrived there because he had written in his poems that a man had better throw away his arms than lose his life. But Valerius Maximus (vi. 3. extr. 1) says that the poems of Archilochus were forbidden at Sparta because of their licentiousness, and especially on account of the attack on the daughter of Lycambes. It must remain doubtful whether a confusion has been made between the personal history of the poet and the fate of his works,* &c. (Smith's Diet.) For further account of him see Donaldson's Miiller, Grote, iii. chap. 29, &c. The lines which, according to Plutarch's account, disgusted Spartan fortitude may be found in Schneidewin's Delectus Poet. Elegiac. Graec. p. 173: dairidi fjitv 2aiW tis dydWerai, -fjv wapcL Oajxycy €VTOS dfidjfxrjToy KaWiirov ovk kOiXojv' avTos 5' €^€assm^ = advancing. Pass znd pace are identical words. See Shaksp. Jul. Caes. \. i. 47. 8. furder. In the case of murder and murther, the d form has been retained. The A.-S. form is/r/rSor, where fS = dkf the ih of thine. Comp. A.-S. feeder with father^ moder with mother » 9. lay by = lay aside, put on one side, i. e. not to read. 10. Padre Paolo = the monastic name of Pietro Sarpi, born at Venice 1552, died 1623. Drawn from his cell — he was a monk of the Servite order — into public life, he became the champion of Venice in its resistance to papal supremacy over its secular government. Of his subsequent years, which were spent mainly in his monastery, the great work was his History of the Council of Trent, * faithfully translated into English by Nathanael Brent,' 1620. See a short life of him by Dr. Johnson, Works, ii. 109-11, ed. 1862. For the passage of the work referred to in the text, see the 1620 ed., book vi. pp. 471-6, where the discussion at the council as to the Index Expurgatorius is introduced by a * Discourse of the Author concerning the Prohibition of Books.* It has been pointed out by Mr. Osborn in his edition of the Areopagitica that this * Discourse' would seem to have been in Milton's mind at the time he wrote the Areopagitica, as several of the facts it quotes are also quoted by him in the same connection. The para- graph that immediately illustrates the present text is this : ' After the year 800 the Popes of Rome, as they assumed a great part of the politick govern- ment, so they caused the Books, whose authors they did condemn, to be burned, and forbad the reading of them.' the great unmasker, 8cc. Cp the inscription placed under a portrait of Father Paul by Sir Henry Wotton : * Concilii Tridentini Eviscerator.* See Holt White. In Of Reformation in England, p. 13 of Works, Milton calls him * the great Venetian antagonist of the Pope;' also * the great and learned Padre Paolo.* the Trentine Covncel, which first met Dec. 13, 1545, was finally dissolved Dec. 4, 1 563. [Where is Trent ?] 11. after which time, &c. On the growth of the power of the Popes in the ninth and tenth centuries, see Milman's Latin Christianity, vols, iii and iv. This growth was not without interruptions. It reached its greatest height in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. For the immediate illustration of the text, see, for instance, Milman's account of Pope Nicholas I (858-867). the Popes of Rome. The title Pope was originally given to all bishops. It was confined to the prelates ot Rome by the order of Phocas, Emperor of the East, at the instance of Boniface III, 606 a.d. engrossing. Engross = to buy in large quantities of corn, or of anything. p. loj NOTES, 83 Cp. engrosser = grocer t which means properly one who buys in large quan- tities. See Promp. Parv. s. v. grocere^ where Way quotes from 37 Edw. III. ^S^S* respecting * merchauntz nomez grossers,' so called because they * En- grossent totes maners des marchandises vendables/ As such large pur- chases were commonly made with a view to raising the price of the commodity, the word engross came to have a bad meaning. {Cp. forestall- ing, regrating, badgering.) See Blackstone and Craik's History of British Commerce, i. 1 33-1 35. 15. fansied. This spelling comes nearer to the original phantasy ^