of later times who has been distinguished by the excellence of his
Latin verse."

And yet Macaulay goes on to say:

"The public has long been agreed as to the merit of the most
remarkable passages, the incomparable harmony of the numbers, and the
excellence of that style which no rival has been able to equal, and
no parodist to degrade, which displays in their highest perfection the
idiomatic powers of the English tongue, and to which every ancient and
every modern language has contributed something of grace, of energy,
or of music."

But how would it have been possible for Milton to have enriched his
poetry with all these elements in a primaeval age, when many of them
did not exist? Indeed, Milton's own words show how he regarded the
task of writing the "Paradise Lost," to which he had consecrated his
energies, In a pamphlet issued in 1641 he wrote:

"Neither do I think it shame to covenant with any knowing reader, that
for some few years yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment
of what I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the
heat of youth or the vapors of wine, like that which flows at waste
from the pen of some vulgar amorist, or the trencher-fury of a riming
parasite, nor to be obtained by the invocation of Dame Memory and her
Siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit who can
enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim
with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of
whom he pleases. To this must be added industriously select reading,
steady observation, insight into all seemly and generous arts and