clearly when his voice becomes that of the young poet taking up his function as the laureate of virtue.
In any case, biography enables us to divine better the secret of the charm already felt. Johnson, as even Professor Raleigh has to admit, was a little hard upon Lycidas. 'In this poem, there is no nature, for there is no truth. … Nothing can less display knowledge, or less exercise invention, than to tell how a shepherd has lost his companion, and must now feed his flocks alone, without any judge of his skill in piping; and how one god asks another god what has become of Lycidas, and how neither god can tell. He who thus grieves will excite no sympathy; he who thus praises will confer no honour.' Perhaps a young reader would really learn more from such remarks than from the critic who simply shrieks at them. They are so undeniable in a sense that he may be driven to justify his pleasure by detecting their inconclusiveness. We cannot quite agree with Professor Raleigh's view that the musical lamentation may, in spite of Johnson, be considered 'as the effusion of real passion.' Lycidas does not convince us that Milton's breakfast was spoilt when he heard that King was
