Milton's note-books, to be referred to in another place, prove that he
did not even then cease to meditate themes for poetry, but practically
he for eighteen years ceased to be a poet.

There is no doubt something grating and unwelcome in the descent of the
scholar from regions of serene culture to fierce political and religious
broils. But to regret with Pattison that Milton should, at this crisis
of the State, have turned aside from poetry to controversy is to regret
that "Paradise Lost" should exist. Such a work could not have proceeded
from one indifferent to the public weal, and if Milton had been capable
of forgetting the citizen in the man of letters we may be sure that "a
little grain of conscience" would ere long have "made him sour." It is
sheer literary fanaticism to speak with Pattison of "the prostitution of
genius to political party." Milton is as much the idealist in his prose
as in his verse; and although in his pamphlets he sides entirely with
one of the two great parties in the State, it is not as its instrument,
but as its prophet and monitor. He himself tells us that controversy is
highly repugnant to him.

"I trust to make it manifest with what small willingness I endure
to interrupt the pursuit of no less hopes than these, and leave a
calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with cheerful and confident
thoughts, to embark 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, to come in to the
dim reflection of hollow antiquities sold by the seeming bulk."

But he felt that if he allowed such motives to prevail with him, it
would be said to him: