language. Peace had come, and leisure was within his reach. He was
poor, but his wants were simple, and he had enough wherewith to meet
them. Already, in 1649, unmistakable symptoms threatened his sight,
and warned him of the necessity of the most rigid economy in the
use of the eyes. The duties that he was now asked to undertake were
indefinite already in amount, and would doubtless extend themselves if
zealously discharged.

But the temptation was strong, and he did not resist it. The increase
of income was, doubtless, to Milton the smallest among the inducements
now offered him. He had thought it a sufficient and an honourable
employment to serve his country with his pen as a volunteer. Here was
an offer to become her official, authorised servant, and to bear a
part, though a humble part, in the great work of reorganisation which
was now to be attempted. Above all other allurements to a retired
student, unversed in men, and ready to idealise character, was the
opportunity of becoming at once personally acquainted with all the
great men of the patriotic party, whom his ardent imagination had
invested with heroic qualities. The very names of Fairfax, Vane, and
Cromwell, called up in him emotions for which prose was an inadequate
vehicle. Nor was it only that in the Council itself he would be
in daily intercourse with such men as Henry Marten, Hutchinson,
Whitelocke, Harrington, St. John, Ludlow, but his position would
introduce him at once to all the members of the House who were worth
knowing. It was not merely a new world; it was _the_ world which was
here opened for the first time to Milton. And we must remember that,
all scholar as he was, Milton was well convinced of the truth that
there are other sources of knowledge besides books. He had himself
spent "many studious and contemplative years in the search of
religious and civil knowledge," yet he knew that, for a mind large