They shine with an unclouded light,
just like the eyes of one whose vision is perfect. This is the only
point in which I am, against my will, a hypocrite." The vindication
appears again in Sonnet xix. "These eyes, though clear To outward view
of blemish or of spot." In later years, when the exordium of Book
iii. of _Paradise Lost_ was composed, in the pathetic story of
his blindness, this little touch of vanity has disappeared, as
incompatible with the solemn dignity of the occasion.
CHAPTER X.
MILTON AND MORUS--THE SECOND DEFENCE--THE DEFENCE FOR HIMSELF.
Civil history is largely a history of wars between states, and
literary history is no less the record of quarrels in print between
jealous authors. Poets and artists, more susceptible than practical
men, seem to live a life of perpetual wrangle. The history of these
petty feuds is not healthy intellectual food, it is at best amusing
scandal. But these quarrels of authors do not degrade the authors in
our eyes, they only show them to be, what we knew, as vain, irritable,
and opinionative as other men. Ben Jonson, Dryden, Pope, Voltaire,
Rousseau, belabour their enemies, and we see nothing incongruous in
their doing so.
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