AREOPAGITICA
By John Milton
The title of Milton's Areopagitica alludes to both the Areopagiticus of Isocrates and the story of the apostle Paul in Athens from Acts 17: 18-34. Isocrates's
tract, which outlines a program for political reform, specifically mentions the
degradation of the judges of the Court of the Areopagus, the highest court in Greece. Milton may fancy himself a man
similar in virtue and sagacity to the old judges of the Areopagus whom
Isocrates praises; following this allusion, the morally weakened judges of the
Areopagus are symbolic of England's sitting Parliament. Milton doubly identifies with the voice
of reform and the sober-minded leaders of a previous generation. The allusion
to Paul in the book of Acts contains a similar parallel: Paul preaches to the
pagan Athenians at the Areopagus (the hill where the judges once sat). In his
appeal to the Athenians, Paul uses a stock phrase from a poem by Aratus, with
whom the Greeks would certainly have been familiar. Paul uses a pagan idea to
instruct the Athenians about Christianity.
As always, Milton divides his scholarly affections
between the classical and the biblical in Areopagitica. Notice, though, that in this
speech classical allusions outweigh biblical, particularly in the first half of
the tract. Milton seems to be making an attempt, by way of copious example, to
demonstrate just how Greek and Roman learning can reside within the boundaries
of Christian morality. At first, one might be inclined to dismiss this as
merely Milton's attempt to reconcile the
differences between his two intellectual loves. But a closer examination of Areopagitica will reveal Milton's more cagey purpose for
allowing classical references to dominate. It is a subtle attempt to flatter
members of Parliament, by comparing their commonwealth to the enlightened
societies of Athens and Rome. By playing off of the vanity of
English politicians, who would of course like to think of themselves as the
senators of a latter-day Troy, Milton hopes to reverse the opinion of
the legislative body. Only an ignorant man would criticize the policies of Athens, and that city, as Milton argues, did not support
licensing of books. Milton seems to express a faith that England's enlightened leaders would
never embark on a policy that would demonstrate their country's inferiority to
those ancient societies.
Milton's tract is a direct
response to the the Licensing Order of 1643 which reinstated much the same sort
of pre-publication censorship once exercised by the Star Chamber and other
earlier censors, royal and ecclesiastical. Milton does not argue here for free
and unregulated speech or printing, but simply that books should not be
suppressed before publication. Treasonous, slanderous and blasphemous
books, he allows, should be tried according to law, then suppressed and their
authors punished.
The counter-examples Milton offers to those enlightened
societies of Greece and Rome are the tyrannical societies of
Catholic Spain and the Papacy. Milton offers the members of Lords and
Commons a clear choice: either imitate Popery or institute freedom. By making
the counter-example to enlightened policy Catholicism, Milton once again demonstrates an acute
understanding of his audience. Parliament during Milton's time, especially the House of
Commons, was largely Puritan. The thought that any of their orders might have
an odor of unreformed Catholicism about it was distasteful, especially during
the particularly tumultuous days surrounding the civil wars, when accusations
of Catholic sympathy flew as regularly as the pigeons of Hyde Park. Areopagitica
demonstrates Milton to be not only a great wordsmith and scholar, but also a
brilliant political orator.
Milton's Areopagitica had virtually no political
impact in its day: Parliament ignored it. However, as the first major treatise
on freedom of the press, it influenced the arguments of many later advocates
for the abolition of censorship. Even the United States Bill of Rights can be viewed as
a direct descendent of Milton's Areopagitica. Part of the reason that it was
ignored in its day may be that Milton had already challenged Parliament and
popular opinion with other unorthodox arguments, such as the one presented in the Doctrine
and Discipline of Divorce and its defenses . Though he attempted to cultivate an image as a
gentleman poet, Milton held radical opinions which
challenged societal norms and was even accused of heresy by some of his rivals
and targets. In Areopagitica we have a prime example of the
nature of Milton's genius: heavily inflected with
biblical and classical knowledge, but too unorthodox for mainstream acceptance,
at least in his day.
Areopagitica reiterates the title of an
oration delivered to the Athenian assembly by Isocrates (436–338 BCE). The
Greek patriot and teacher of rhetoric, who rarely spoke publicly himself,
pleaded for the reinstitution of the ancient court of the Areopagus, named for
Ares, god of war, and essentially a council of nobles. But John Milton (1608–
74) would also expect his readers to have in mind St. Paul’s address to the Council of the
Areopagus (in Acts 1722–23). There the God of Christianity is proclaimed as the
true object of the pagan altar to an unknown god.
Milton’s tract, published rather than delivered, Ciceronian in style and redolent with the cadences of spoken English, is a plea to the English Parliament for the withdrawal of a new order for the licensing of book publication. Parliamentary reforms in the early 1640s had abolished Archbishop Laud’s elaborate and repressive licensing measures and the courts of the Star Chamber and the High Commission that enforced them. Now Milton saw the new licensing measure, brought in as Presbyterian discipline and authority prevailed in Parliament over Congregational, as dangerously retrograde.
Milton’s target was not accountability for the printed word (in which he staunchly believed), let alone for obscene or pornographic materials, but front-end censorship of religious ideas, his own Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce (August 1643) being an egregious target of the new measures. (His vision was not, however, wide enough to include toleration of Catholic writing, which he regarded as radically destructive of true religion and of the state itself.)
Areopagitica follows closely much of the standard rhetorical prescription for classical oration (narration, proposition, proof, etc.). It also runs through a considerable range of tones of address, first assuming the rationality, honor, and goodwill of its parliamentary audience, and pleading for sober attention to “the voice of reason.” Then it turns blisteringly polemical and, at the same time, staunchly patriotic in its mocking attack on censorship as Italianate and Catholic, reminiscent of Inquisition, inappropriate to a “nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing spirit…not beneath the reach of the highest that human capacity can soar to.” Pragmatism raises the problem of the censor, beleaguered by tedium and contamination. Idealistically the concept of the life of the reading intellect as a moral purifying by trial finds context in the spirit of Milton’s “reforming of reformation itself.” It also waxes heroic, celebrating the purifying effects of moral trial: “I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and seeks her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat.” Quintessentially protestant, it privileges individual conscience, without which a man may be a “heretic in truth”: “There is not any burden that some would gladlier post off to another than the charge and care of their religion.”
Areopagitica, like almost everything Milton wrote, situates its concerns mythologically within the cycle of fall and recuperation, which Milton characteristically reconstructs as the vitiation and reclamation of God’s creation. The writing of books thus becomes a kind of reiteration of the creative act, and censorship thus mindlessly counters creation and Creator alike: “who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God’s image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.” Milton’s fall of man is quintessentially a fall of reason, Adam’s and Eve’s fall being an act of disobedience to God that is also constructed as an act of allowing their reason to be clouded by their appetites. Areopagitica construes man as morally adequate in a world unprotected by “a perpetual childhood of prescription” by virtue of the continuity of man’s prelapsarian freedom of choice. “For reason is but choosing,” Milton proclaims, in phrasing that in the later Paradise Lost (1667; 3.108) becomes God’s defense of Adam’s sufficiency, since “Reason also is choice.”
Areopagitica’s power as an essay depends in large measure on its projection from more primal bodies of mythology drawn by Milton from the classics. Thus the fall is seen to reiterate an ananagnorisis (recognition) in which Truth, like Osiris, is torn apart, and the reclamation of man’s original state comprehends the obligation “to unite those severed pieces which are yet wanting to the body of Truth.” Elsewhere man’s restoration becomes a mythic reawakening in which the fall vanishes into nothingness like a nightmare past: “Methinks I see a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks.” (Blake’s conception of his audience as Albion, the giant sleeping form of the English nation, needful of a similar rousing from a state of mental and moral torpor, is obviously in Milton’s debt.) Similarly, Milton’s “eagle muing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam” constructs his vision on the folklore eagle that can gaze unblinkered at the sun and also on Plato’s account of man’s emergence from the cave (Republic, Book 7). Also reiterated here is the primal myth of a cosmos snatched from darkness that informs the Genesis creation account, reconstructed by Milton into an analogy of man’s mental state in which “those also that love the twilight” are condemned to a state of intentional selfdamnation.And finally there is the appropriating of the Gospel’s reiteration of a primal myth of salvation as a harvest for which “the fields are white already.”
Analysis
We think of John Milton as a poet today,
the author of Paradise
Lost. In 1645 his first book of poetry,
simply called Poems, was registered and published.
This was a major publication, but until Paradise Lost was published in 1667 he was more
engaged with polemics with regard to political and religious issues of the
day. He wrote a whole series of pamphlets. Three of the most
controversial were; against bishops in 1642, his treatise on divorce in 1644,
and in 1649 shortly after the execution of Charles I his Tenure of Kings and Magistrates was published supporting regicides. This was the time of
the Civil War in England and Milton was on the side of the
republicans. The beheading of Charles I was a shocking event at the time,
aside from the fact that he was head of government, the tradition of the Divine
Right of Kings and power derived from God placed a religious value on the life
of a king. Milton proposed more earthly standards for
judging the fitness of rulers and argued the right of the people to rid
themselves of tyrants.
In 1651 Milton was probably completely blind and by
1652, certainly was. It was in that year that his first wife, Mary,
died. This began a difficult period for Milton. But he continued his political
work and writing, holding important positions within the Republic. In
1658 Cromwell died and the Republic began to fall apart. The royalists
become more powerful all through 1659. The Restoration was not well timed
for Milton, he had just come out with A Treatise of Civil Power and Ready and Easy Way To Establish a
Free Commonwealth in 1659. Late that year he was arrested and imprisoned both
for his work in the support of the Republic and his writings. He was
released after paying an enormous fine after friends petitioned
Parliament. Charles II returned to the throne in 1660. Milton retired from public life and devoted
himself to poetry. He died in 1674.
Knowledge
of the issues and conditions during the Civil War and the Republic are
necessary to understand Areopagitica but we
must also look at the field of publishing and books. The first copyright
act was not passed until 1710 in England. In the early 1600's writers
would enter their work into the Stationer's Register. This was managed by
a guild of publishers and printers who agreed that if a work showed up on this
list they agreed not to publish pirated copies of it. The agreement
offered some protection to both authors and publishers but it did not have the
power of copyright. There were no restrictions on what could be published.
This did not suffice for Charles I. With growing unrest in the country he
moved to suppress opposition.
Charles I (1625 - 1649) was not a
popular king. He was wildly extravagant, authoritarian, and rigid.
When he was challenged by Parliament, he dismissed it and refused to call for
Parliament for eleven years from 1629 to 1640. Following his own beliefs,
he tried to impose a State religion on the people that would include more
aspects of the pomp and ceremony of the Catholics. Many of the members of
Church of England and members of other Protestant groups preferred a plainer
liturgy. The division became known as "high" vs. "low" church.
Charles established a "Star Chamber" of ministers to enforce his commands. They ignored
the need for lawful process and acted as enforcers. All proceedings of
the Star Chamber were conducted behind closed doors.
An example of what could happen to an
individual who disobeyed the censorship of Charles I is the case of William
Prynne. In 1632 Prynne, a Puritan, published Histriomastix in which he condemned just about
everything fun, including dancing, music and masques. Women who
participated in masques were slatterns. The Queen was fond of masques, a
type of fancy-dress ball and took offense at this characterization. The
King was a patron of the arts. Various bishops within the Anglican Church
pushed to have this outspoken and powerful Puritan arrested. Prynne was
called before the Star Chamber and convicted of sedition. He had the tips
of his ears cut off, paid an enormous fine, lost his degrees, and his
possessions were sold. He continued to write from prison with the result
that in 1637 the remainder of his ears were cut off, he was branded on both
cheeks with the letters "SL" for seditious libel, and he was sent to
an awful prison rather than the Tower. What is more, the Puritan
printers who had published his works were also tried and convicted. It
was not just the author, but the press which was found guilty. It is one
thing to write about something you believe deeply and defend it, it is another
to face death for printing someone else's passions.
Without Parliament, Charles I had no
legal way of imposing taxes so he raised money through fines and fees.
This was less popular than anything else he did. Protests and resistance
became stronger. In 1640 he called Parliament into session to attempt to
regain control of the country. One of the first things that Parliament
did in 1640 was to free Prynne. By 1642 the country was immersed in
a Civil War. Parliament wished to suppress opposition just as much as the
Charles had. Where Charles I had worked to censor speech and print
through the Star Chamber, Parliament formalized it for their own purpose in
1643. Ostensibly the law would simply strengthen the Stationer's
Register, but in effect, it transferred power from the stationers to
Parliament, to the government.
Ordinance for correcting and regulating the Abuses of the Press.
"Whereas divers good Orders have
been lately made, by both Houses of Parliament, for suppressing the great late
Abuses, and frequent Disorders, in printing many false, forged, scandalous,
seditious, libellous, and unlicensed Papers, Pamphlets, and Books, to the great
Defamation of Religion and Government; which Orders (notwithstanding the
Diligence of the Company of Stationers to put them in full Execution) have
taken little or no Effect, by reason of the Bill in Preparation for Redress of
the said Disorders having hitherto been retarded through the present
Distractions; and very many, as well Stationers and Printers, as others of
sundry other Professions, not free of the Stationers Company, have taken upon
them to set up sundry private Printing Presses in Corners, and to print, vend,
publish, and disperse, Books, Pamphlets, and Papers, in such Multitudes, that
no Industry could be sufficient to discover, or bring to Punishment, all the
several abounding Delinquents; and, by reason that divers of the Stationers
Company, and others, being Delinquents (contrary to former Orders, and the constant
Custom used among the said Company), have taken Liberty to print, vend, and
publish, the most profitable vendible Copies of Books belonging to the said
Company, and other Stationers, especially of such Agents as are employed in
putting the said Orders in Execution, and that by Way of Revenge for giving
Information against them to the Houses, for their Delinquency in Printing, to
the great Prejudice of the said Company, Stationers, and Agents, and to their
Discouragement in this Public Service: It is therefore Ordered, by the Lords
and Commons in Parliament, That no Order or Declaration of both or either House
of Parliament shall be printed by any, but by Order of One or both the said
Houses; nor other Book, Pamphlet, or Paper, shall from henceforth be printed,
bound, stitched, or put to Sale, by any Person or Persons whatsoever, unless
the same be first approved of, and licensed under the Hands of such Person or
Persons as both or either of the said Houses shall appoint for the Licensing of
the same, and entered in the Register Book of the Company of Stationers,
according to ancient Custom, and the Printer thereof to put his Name thereto;
and that no Person or Persons shall hereafter print, or cause to be re-printed,
any Book or Books, or Part of Book or Books, heretofore allowed of and granted
to the said Company of Stationers, for their Relief, and Maintenance of their
Poor, without the Licence or Consent of the Master, Wardens, and Assistants of
the said Company; nor any Book or Books lawfully licensed, and entered in the
Register of the said Company for any particular Member thereof, without the
Licence and Consent of the Owner or Owners thereof; nor yet import any such
Book or Books, or Part of Book or Books, formerly printed here, from beyond the
Seas, upon Pain of forfeiting the same to the respective Owner or Owners of the
Copies of the said Books, and such further Punishment as shall be thought fit;
and the Master and Wardens of the said Company, the Gentleman Usher of the
House of Peers, the Serjeant of the Commons House, and their Deputies, together
with the Persons formerly appointed by the Committee of the House of Commons
for Examinations, are hereby authorized and required, from Time to Time, to
make diligent Search, in all Places where they shall think meet, for all
unlicensed Printing Presses, and all Presses any Way employed in the Printing
of scandalous or unlicensed Papers, Pamphlets, Books, or any Copies of Books,
belonging to the said Company, or any Member thereof, without their Approbation
and Consents; and to seize and carry away such Printing Presses, Letters,
together with the Nut, Spindle, and other Materials, of every such irregular
Printer, which they find so misemployed, unto the Common Hall of the said
Company, there to be defaced and made unserviceable, according to ancient
Custom; and likewise to make diligent Search, in all suspected Printing-houses,
Warehouses, Shops, and other Places, for such scandalous and unlicensed Books,
Papers, Pamphlets, and all other Books, not entered nor signed with the
Printer's Name as aforesaid, being printed or reprinted by such as have no
lawful Interest in them, or any Way contrary to this Order; and the same to
seize and carry away to the said Common Hall, there to remain till both or
either House of Parliament shall dispose thereof; and likewise to apprehend all
Authors, Printers, and other Persons whatsoever, employed in compiling,
printing, stiching, binding, publishing, and dispersing, of the said
scandalous, unlicensed, and unwarrantable Papers, Books, and Pamphlets, as
aforesaid, and all those who shall resist the said Parties in searching after
them; and to bring them before either of the Houses, or the Committee of
Examinations, that so they may receive such further Punishments as their
Offences shall demerit; and not to be released until they have given
Satisfaction to the Parties employed in their Apprehension, for their Pains and
Charges, and giving sufficient Caution not to offend in like Sort for the
future; and all Justices of the Peace, Captains, Constables, and other
Officers, are hereby Ordered and Required to be aiding and assisting to the
aforesaid Persons, in the due Execution of all and singular the Premises, in
the Apprehension of all Offenders against the same; and, in case of Opposition,
to break open Doors and Locks: And it is further Ordered, That this Order be
forthwith printed and published, to the End that Notice may be taken thereof,
and all Contemners of it left unexcuseable."
House of Lords Journal Volume 6
14 June 1643
14 June 1643
Briefly, the law 1) establishes a
monopoly of approved printers 2) reinforces the traditional Stationer's List 3)
gives Parliament the right and duty to search and destroy unlicensed papers and
presses 4) and to further search for scandalous or unlicensed books and carry
them away 5) to arrest authors, printers, stichers, binders, and sellers of
such books 6) and gives them the right to break in to search any
premises. The law uses the same tactics developed under the Star Chamber
and applies them universally. Milton, a supporter of the Republic, must
have been outraged to see the replacement of one tyranny for another. He
wrote Areopagitica in spite of the very last line where it
is made unlawful to call the law into question. He had to publish without
a license and had difficulty finding a printer.
In
the preface of the 1738 edition the editor writes "Is it possible that any
Free-born Briton, who is capable of thinking, can ever lose all Sense of
Religion and Virtue, and of the Dignity of human Nature to such a degree, as to
wish for that universal Ignorance, Darkness, and Barbarity, against which the
absolute Freedom of the Press is the only Preservative?" Milton would appreciate this as a preface to
his work. He said something similar when he quoted "This is true liberty, when
free-born men, Having to advice the public, may speak free..."
Euripid. Hicetid. at
the opening of Areopagitica.
The post publication censorship issue is
a little bit tricky. Milton didn't include everyone under the same
umbrella. It's ironic, given that this has come to represent, as the
preface suggests, this work of great liberty, that Milton had his own intolerances. He is not
tolerant of popery for instance. If you were a Roman Catholic writing in
support of shifting back or urging others to do so, Milton believed it would be
permissible to stamp it out before it could see the light of day "...as it extirpates all
religions and civil supremacies, so itself should be extirpate..." He refers to the Inquisition and
his prejudice is more a matter of politics than of religion. The
arguments with the Catholic Church during this period were not about truth and
belief but about power and supremacy.
Milton began Areopagitica with a series of precedents, proposing
that censorship is a fairly recent development. Even among the early
Christians Milton said: "The books of those whom they took to be grand heretics
were examined, refuted, and condemned in the general Councils; and not till
then were prohibited, or burnt, by authority of the emperor." The books were read and thought
about, THEN they were burnt. At least they would read over the ideas and
digest them before condemning them.
He then traced the idea of licensing to "those whom ye will be loath to
own" -- the
Catholics. You would not want to identify yourselves with these, you
would not want to associate yourselves with them. Next he considered the
general nature of reading. This section is more theoretical, a discourse
on what books are and how they ought to be treated and whether they should be
treated any different than anything else. Then he moved onto the
practicality of the licensing law. He pointed out that even if it were a
good idea, which he doesn't, it would still be impossible to enforce.
Finally, he discussed how licensing would harm English political and religious
reformation.
Let's take a closer look at these major
points. As far as the precedents go, he pointed to the Inquisition and
said that they "rake through the entrails of many an old good author, with
a violation worse than any could be offered to his tomb." In
contrast he drew attention through classical allusions to the ideal of Greece. The very title itself refers to
Ares Hill where the council of Athens met. In Athens, he said, there were only two sorts of
writings that were punished: the sort that were blasphemous and those
that were libelous and took someone's reputation away. In Rome, even Critolaus, by that he meant the
"dirty" poets, were allowed to write. It was only when Rome turned to tyranny that books were
silenced.
He wanted the members of Parliament to
see England as a sort of culmination of classical
learning. It was the idea that they were on the cusp of some radical
shift in history. The people at that time saw significance in numerology
-- 1666 was coming up, a year of unique importance. It was the way we
felt about Y2K but more so. Of course, 1666 was, in fact, a very bad
year. The Great Fire of London broke out. It is also the year in
which all Roman numerals are used and used only once -- MDCLXVI -- and in a
descending sequence.
For Milton it meant that this is a crucial time in
England. There was enormous intellectual
activity. He believed that England was "a nation not slow and dull,
but of a quick, ingenious and piercing spirit, acute to invent, subtle and
sinewy to discourse, 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 been so ancient and so eminent among us, that writers of good antiquity
and ablest judgment have been persuaded that even the school of Pythagoras and the Persian wisdom took beginning
from the old philosophy of this island."
He then went on to talk about the
importance of books and pointed out that "To the pure, all things are pure; not only
meats and drinks, but all kind of knowledge whether of good or evil; the
knowledge cannot defile, nor consequently the books, if the will and conscience
be not defiled."
It is not the books or the ideas that are bad, it is up to the pure at heart to
discern which are good. Further, bad books have merit in that "Bad meats will scarce breed
good nourishment in the healthiest concoction; but herein the difference is of
bad books, that they to a discreet and judicious reader serve in many respects
to discover, to confute, to forewarn, and to illustrate." He pointed out that a scientist
does not abandon earlier incorrect books or theories but delves into them for
lessons for the future. To squelch error, to suppress bad books is to run
away from the confrontation that allows one to become independently the self
and find truth.
He came to the core of his argument when
he said, "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
knowledge of evil, and in so many cunning resemblances hardly to be discerned,
that those confused seeds which were imposed upon Psyche as an incessant labour
to cull out, and sort asunder, were not more intermixed." Good and evil are hard to tell
apart. Who is going to do this unless they have the opportunity to learn
the difference? What happens if you refuse the
confrontation? Milton answered, "I cannot praise a fugitive and
cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees
her adversary but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be
run for, not without dust and heat. Assuredly we bring not innocence into
the world, we bring impurity much rather; that which purifies us is trial, and
trial is by what is contrary." So if you live in isolation and do not seek the truth, you
do not have purity because you have never been tempted. You have only
ignorance.
He raised the practical objections that
Parliament might have concerning the fear that infection might spread so
controversy must be stopped. Milton responded "but then all human learning and
controversy in religious points must remove out of the world, yea the Bible
itself; ..."
If you are going to try to censor bad books because they might infect then you
can't stop there. Milton continued, "It will ask more than the work
of twenty licensers to examine all the lutes, the violins, and the guitars in
every house; they must not be suffered to prattle as they do, but must be
licensed what they may say. And who shall silence all the airs and madrigals
that whisper softness in chambers? The windows also, and the balconies must be
thought on; there are shrewd books, with dangerous frontispieces, set to sale;
who shall prohibit them, shall twenty licensers?" If you want to control infection, you
have to rid yourself of every idea not only in books but in music and thought
itself. It will require an army of bureaucrats. Who is going to
keep the bureaucrats pure? As they go about finding bad thoughts, will
they not spread the infection? Using wry humor he pointed out that "And he who were pleasantly
disposed could not well avoid to liken it to the exploit of that gallant man
who thought to pound up the crows by shutting his park gate."
In his last chapter he talked about his
travels abroad and his meeting with Galileo. He talked about the fact that
everywhere he went people envied the fact that he lived in England. What a great place it must be to
be able to say what you think. "I could recount what I have seen and heard in
other countries, where this kind of inquisition tyrannizes; when I have sat
among their learned men, for that honour I had, and been counted happy to be
born in such a place of philosophic freedom, as they supposed England was,
while themselves did nothing but bemoan the servile condition into which
learning amongst them was brought; that this was it which had damped the glory
of Italian wits; that nothing had been there written now these many years but
flattery and fustian." Milton had heard the same complaints on the
continent as he was hearing then in England. The Inquisition was simply
recycling these Roman Catholic atrocities.
"Truth is compared in Scripture
to a streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in a perpetual progression,
they sicken into a muddy pool of conformity and tradition. A man may be a
heretic in the truth; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so,
or the Assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though his belief
be true, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy." Milton continued the argument with an
ancient example: "Truth indeed came once into the world with her divine
Master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to look on: but when he ascended,
and his Apostles after him were laid asleep, then straight arose a wicked race
of deceivers, who, as that story goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his
conspirators, how they dealt with the good Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed
her lovely form into a thousand pieces, 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 mangled body of Osiris,
went up and down gathering up limb by limb, still as they could find them. We
have not yet found them all, Lords and Commons, nor ever shall do, till her
Master's second coming; he shall bring together every joint and member, and
shall mould them into an immortal feature of loveliness and perfection." Truth is a process of progressive
revelation. To get from one point to another you have diverge from the
path you are supposed to be on. He included the "schisms and
sects" of different approaches to religion in the legitimate search for
truth.
In Paradise Lost Milton expresses his idea of free will as God
having made man
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
Book 3
Truth is a continual process of choice,
the choice to confront, to choose and to move on.
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