Part 1: Triple Threat Liberty
In Areopagitica, John Milton writes, “Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties” (746). A religious, domestic, and civil liberties foundation is built upon that sentence. Without it, not just a civilization—but man himself would fall from the grace of God. Through this rational, we can argue that liberty of conscience is Milton’s ultimate goal.
For religious liberty, or liberty from church government, Milton uses history and the Bible as his weapons of choice. In Areopagitica, Milton politically showcases how during the first 800 years of civilization, nations had no internal mechanism/system for censorship regarding printing—and that it was the church which began filtering what the public read. Milton writes, “[...] the Popes in Rome, engrossing in what they pleased of political rule into their own hands, extended their dominion over men’s eyes as they had before over their judgments, burning and prohibiting to be read what they fancied not” (724). If the church decides which language is “blasphemous,” “atheistic,” or just pure “libelous”—does this not go against the worship/image of God? For Milton writes, “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” (720). Using history, Milton is arguing that the institution of church government is an assault on liberty, for church government should not indoctrinate public discourse or be involved in textual censorship.
Milton further supports this, by using the virtues the Bible presents as a source for his argument supporting independent civil reasoning. In The Reason of Church Government, Milton writes, “[...] church discipline is platformed in the Bible, but that it is left to the discretion of men” (642). Milton is arguing for choice or “free will.” In his book, Literature and Politics in Cromwellian England, author Blair Worden writes of Milton’s intellectual reasoning in using historical and biblical references. Worden writes:
Milton brought to politics the ideal of freedom that he had worked out in religion. In religion God gives his servants the freedom of choice . . . [he] wants them to be independent of all man-made ideas and institutions that stand between him and them. They attain their salvation by their own exertions, and their faith by their own enquiries. The growth of their faith takes them from spiritual infancy to adulthood, from credulity to thought, from ‘custom’ (that rooted antagonist of ‘choice’) to truth. (228)
In order for true liberty to bloom, the scanning and censorship of church governments must not take place for, as Milton argues, “we then affect a rigor contrary to the manner of God and of nature, by abridging or scanting those means which books freely permitted are, both to the trial of virtue and the exercise of truth” (733). Thus, in order to be truthful to God—we must be truthful to ourselves.
In issues concerning domestic liberty, Milton turns his attention to issues of marriage in his essay, The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce. In it, Milton argues how canon law hinders/misinterprets the law of scripture. According to author Lana Cable, in her book, Carnal Rhetoric: Milton's Iconoclasm and the Poetics of Desire, Milton is offering a “true doctrine . . . one which returns marriage back to its original conception” (144). Two key examples of his argumentative prowess are as follows: First, Milton links the word “custom” to the visual impairment “blindness.” Milton writes, “[...] error supports custom, custom countenances error; and these two between them would persecute and chase away all truth and solid wisdom” (697). Milton’s argument is clever, for when an individual indulges in custom, he indulges in a refusal to think new thoughts, but more importantly—a refusal to question old ones. Milton’s rational behind his doctrine (all the while structuring his argument with veiled personal experiences with his own marriage), is to show how “custom” has always been the great teacher—how its teachings can lead to “counterfeit knowledge” (697).
Milton’s second argument comes in the form of a simple question: why are we arranging our domestic lives around custom? If internal, natural, truthful forces (ex. “I do not identify with my wife Mary Powell”), are being ruled by external forces of convention (ex. “the law says, that unless she dies/I die/or one of us commits adultery we cannot separate”)—is that not a lie to nature?
In a want to show that this is an affront to God’s highest one will standard, Milton argues for domestic liberty by showing biblical contradiction. From Genesis 2:18, Milton quotes God, writing, “It is not good,” saith he, “that man should be alone. I will make a helpmeet [an individual suitable to Adam] for him” (707). Milton weighs this biblical verse with his own conclusion, “[...] that in God’s intention a meet and happy conversation is the chiefest and noblest end of marriage” (707). In her essay “Milton’s Claim for Self and Freedom in the Divorce Tracts,” author Jennifer L. Nichols places Milton’s argument in perspective. Nichols writes:
Law has no power to unite two souls and bodies that are by nature contraries [...] Milton’s polemic reduces itself to a neat syllogism: God allowed his holy people to divorce in the Old Testament; God cannot will two contrary things; therefore Christ, who is God, cannot have forbade divorce in any of his teachings while on earth and must, since he is bound by the law of noncontradiction, permit it even under the new covenant. (196-97)
Current canon law is “custom;” custom is “blindness;” blindness leads to “error;” which makes the three a contradiction to God’s will.
John Milton’s essay, The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, takes a stance on civil liberty in that societies should be governed by reason, not the customs of tyranny. Using the powerful symbol of the eyes, Milton suggests that man should use their own sight (judgments), and not base decisions through the external eyes (orders) of others. Milton offers this suggestion when he writes, “[...] it is the vulgar folly of men to desert their own reason and shutting their eyes to think they see best with other men’s” (760).
With this argument, Milton further reminds humankind of the word “power.” Milton writes, “It being thus manifest that the power of kings and magistrates is nothing else but what is only derivative, transferred, and committed to them in trust from the people” (755). In his book, Ideas in Milton, author William J. Grace comments on Milton’s reasoning, writing, “Milton’s applications of the law of nature was that a free people is not bound by the statute of any preceding parliaments but by the law of nature only” (25). Using the argument of “natural birthright” (756), and juxtaposing it with law as “custom,” Milton cleverly argues that man should look within themselves, creating a society in their own image, with their own power, and above all other things—not give in to the rule of tyranny.
Part Two: The Companion Poems
Does the epic poet privilege day to night, or night to day? Is leisure more important to the epic poet than work? The answer to both of these questions lies in the word companion. The Oxford English Dictionary defines companion, n.1 as, “one who associates with or accompanies another; a mate; a fellow; a sharer or partaker of.” In John Milton’s L’ Allegro and Il Penseroso, day shares equal importance with night, and leisure shares equal importance with work; for if the epic poet chooses one lifestyle over the other, then he would represent a single (companionless) bookend—and the books would fall off the shelf.
An epic poet should be a well-rounded, creative individual, versed in the humanities, as well as one who doesn’t neglect human interaction and exploration. L’ Allegro represents humankind’s apprenticeship in life. Social interaction, music, laughter, and exploration are paramount features in a poem whose kingdom is ruled by “Mirth” (line 13). The atmosphere presented in L’ Allegro is one of pleasure and love. Milton writes, “To Ivy-crowned Bacchus bore” (16). “Bacchus,” is the god of wine, and wine can symbolize celebration. Concerning pleasure, Milton further comments, “Mirth, admit me of thy crew / To live with her, and live with thee / In unreproved pleasures free” (38-40), and for love, Milton inks, “And fresh-blown Roses washt in dew, / Fill’d her with thee a daughter fair / So buxom, blithe, and debonair” (22-24). Milton uses these lines to suggest that man should partake in the sweet fruits (liquors) of life, and drink its pleasures. Life is live theatre, and we learn through our companionship with reality.
This is in sharp contrast to the atmosphere presented in Il Penseroso, where introspection is ruled in “Melancholy[s]” (12) realm. Here the mood has shifted from the external pastoral images of “The upland Hamlets will invite” (92), to the internal towers of ones mind with “Or let my Lamp at midnight hour, / Be seen in some high and lonely Tow’r,” (85-86). The contrasting imagery of both atmospheres causes the reader to view L’ Allegro as Milton’s externalization model of gaining knowledge through apprenticeship, and Il Penseroso as a internalization model of gaining knowledge from within.
Milton uses the imagery of the moon in Il Penseroso, to reinforce the idea of gaining inner knowledge through the solitude of night. In their book, Signs & Symbols, authors Mark O’ Connell and Raje Airey comment on the moon representing “inner wisdom,” writing, “The moon is a great reflector and embodies the qualities of receptiveness that are necessary for the intuitive process and to experience feelings” (120). Inner knowledge leads to the recognition of truth: the young man gains wisdom, not in a day, but “Till old experience do attain” (173).
In the end, the style of language Milton employs’s between the two poems is important for it unifies the conclusion that both lifestyles (companionship between day/night; leisure/work), are vital to the epic poet. Before one can become an epic poet, he must first be an apprentice, for the external/internal exploration of life must occur early in life. In Greg W. Zacharias’s essay, “Young Milton’s Equipment for Living: L’Allegro and Il Penseroso,” Zacharias emphasizes:
In his writing outside the twin poems Milton not only asserts his belief that together the sensuous and intellectual would contribute to a fuller life for everyone, but, through the symbolic action of his poems, Milton implies that this way of living is fundamental for the epic poet. (12)
The epic poet’s body and mind must offer itself nakedly to the world—and be its companion.
Works Cited
Cable, Lana. Carnal Rhetoric: Milton's Iconoclasm and the Poetics of Desire. North Carolina: Duke University Press, 1995.
"companion, n.1" The Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. 1989. OED Online. Oxford University Press. 13 Oct. 2009
Grace, William J. Ideas in Milton. Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968.
Milton, John. Complete Poems and Major Prose. Ed. Merritt Y. Hughes. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2003.
Nichols, Jennifer L. “Milton’s Claim for Self and Freedom in the Divorce Tracts.” Milton Studies. 49 (2009):192-211.
O’ Conell, Mark and Raje Airey. Signs & Symbols. New York: Hermes House, 2004.
Worden, Blair. Literature and Politics in Cromwellian England. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Zacharias, Greg W. “Young Milton’s Equipment for Living: L’Allegro and Il Penseroso.” Milton Studies. 24 (1988): 3-15.
Works Referenced
Miller, David M. John Milton: Poetry. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1978.
Smith, Nigel. Is Milton Better than Shakesphere?. MA: Harvard University Press, 2008.
Kirszner, Laurie G. and Stephen R. Mandell. Literature: Reading, Reacting, Writing. Compact 6th ed. Australia: Thompson, 2007.
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