Milton's. And there are some of these niceties, I am satisfied, not even
yet fully investigated.

It is, however, to be borne in mind, after all allowances and provisional
reservations have been made that Bentley's hypothesis (injudiciously as it
was managed by that great scholar) has really a truth of fact to stand
upon. Not only must Milton have composed his three greatest poems, the two
'Paradises, and the 'Samson,' in a state of blindness--but subsequently,
in the correction of the proofs, he must have suffered still more from
this conflict with darkness and, consequently, from this dependence upon
careless readers. This is Bentley's case: as lawyers say: 'My lord, that
is my case.' It is possible enough to write correctly in the dark, as I
myself often do, when losing or missing my lucifers--which, like some
elder lucifers, are always rebelliously straying into place where they
_can_ have no business. But it is quite impossible to _correct a proof_ in
the dark. At least, if there _is_ such an art, it must be a section of the
black art. Bentley gained from Pope that admirable epithet of _slashing,
['the ribbalds--from slashing Bentley down to piddling Theobalds_,' i.e.
_Tibbulds_ as it was pronounced], altogether from his edition of the
'Paradise Lost.' This the doctor founded on his own hypothesis as to the
advantage taken of Milton's blindness; and corresponding was the havoc
which he made of the text. In fact, on the really just allegation that
Milton must have used the services of an amanuensis; and the plausible one
that this amanuensis, being often weary of his task, would be likely to
neglect punctilious accuracy; and the most improbable allegation that this
weary person would also be very conceited, and add much rubbish of his
own; Bentley resigned himself luxuriously, without the whisper of a
scruple, to his own sense of what was or was not poetic, which sense
happened to be that of the adder for music. The deaf adder heareth not
though the musician charm ever so wisely. No scholarship, which so far