For the works of Faithorne or Loggan, Flatman or Lens, we must refer our readers to more elaborate books on miniature painting, and hasten forward towards the eighteenth century. Before we do so, however, it may be of interest that we should refer to an illustration in colour of a miniature which has not hitherto been represented in any book on this subject. It is a portrait which has been bequeathed through various owners as a likeness of _John Milton_ (Plate X.), and there is a good deal of evidence to support this very interesting attribution. It came from the Woodcock family, who state that it has been handed down in direct succession from Catherine Woodcock, whom Milton married as his second wife on the 12th of November 1656. She was the daughter of a Captain Woodcock, of Hackney, and the former owners of the miniature stated that their family home was in Hackney. Mrs. Milton had a baby girl on October 19th, 1657, and she and her child died in February 1658, when the miniature was given to her niece, who is stated to have been present at the confinement, and from her it came to its late owners, who only parted with it when actually compelled so to do. It therefore belonged to the Mrs. Milton who is immortalised by the poet in his twenty-third sonnet, where he speaks of her as "My late espousèd saint, Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave," And adds "... once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint." He says she "Came vested all in white, pure as her mind Her face was veiled; yet to my fancied sight Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined So clear, as in no face with more delight. But, oh! as to embrace me she inclined, I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night." If, as seems most probable, the attribution of this portrait is correct, it gives us a view of Milton at a period of his life of which we have no other portrait, for it must have been painted when he Was about 48, and it bears out Aubrey's remarks about him, in which he speaks of his reddish hair, of his "exceeding fayre complexion," of his oval face, and tells us that he was "a spare man." Apparently it was never engraved, and Deborah Milton seems to have known nothing about it, but as she was quite a child when her father's second wife died, and as the portrait passed away from the Milton family so quickly, it is very natural that we should have no other record of it than the miniature itself.