There is another very remarkable Passage in the Composure of this Poem [Paradise Lost], which I have a particular occasion to remember; for whereas I had the perusal of it from the very beginning; for some years as I went from time to time to Visit him, in a Parcel of Ten, Twenty, or Thirty Verses at a Time, which being Written by whatever hand came next, might possibly want Correction as to the Orthography and Pointing; having as the Summer came on, not been shewed any for a considerable while, and desiring the reason thereof, was answered, That his Veine never happily flow’d, but from the Autumnal Equinoctial to the Vernal, and that whatever he attempted was never to his satisfaction, though he courted his fancy never so much; so that in all the years he was about this Poem, he may be said to have spent but half his time therein.

59.

Notes by JONATHAN RICHARDSON.

One that had Often seen him, told me he us’d to come to a House where He Liv’d, and he has also Met him in the Street, Led by Millington, the same who was so Famous an Auctioneer of Books about the time of the Revolution, and Since.  This Man was then a Seller of Old Books in Little Britain, and Milton lodg’d at his house.  This was 3 or 4 Years before he Dy’d. he then wore no Sword that My Informer remembers, though Probably he did, at least ’twas his Custom not long before to wear one with a Small Silver-Hilt, and in Cold Weather a Grey Camblet Coat....

I have heard many Years Since that he Us’d to Sit in a Grey Coarse Cloth Coat at the Door of his House, near Bun-hill Fields Without Moor-gate, in Warm Sunny Weather to Enjoy the Fresh Air, and So, as well as in his Room, receiv’d the Visits of People of Distinguished Parts, as well as Quality, and very Lately I had the Good Fortune to have Another Picture of him from an Ancient Clergyman in Dorsetshire, Dr. Wright; He found him in a Small House, he thinks but One Room on a Floor; in That, up One pair of Stairs, which was hung with a Rusty Green, he found John Milton, Sitting in an Elbow Chair, Black Cloaths, and Neat enough, Pale, but not Cadaverous, his Hands and Fingers Gouty, and with Chalk Stones. among Other Discourse He exprest Himself to This Purpose; that was he Free from the Pain This gave him, his Blindness would be Tolerable.

* * * * *

... besides what Affliction he Must have from his Disappointment on the Change of the Times, and from his Own Private Losses, and probably Cares for Subsistence, and for his Family; he was in Perpetual Terror of being Assassinated, though he had Escap’d the Talons of the Law, he knew he had Made Himself Enemies in Abundance. he was So Dejected he would lie Awake whole Nights.  He then kept Himself as Private as he could.  This Dr. Tancred Robinson had from a Relation of Milton’s, Mr. Walker of the Temple. and This is what is Intimated by Himself, VII. 26.