Of this new world: at whose sight, all the stars
Hide their diminish'd heads; to these I call,
But with no friendly voice; and add thy name,
O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.

iv. 32.

This speech is, I think, the finest that is ascribed to Satan in the whole poem. The evil spirit afterwards proceeds to make his discoveries concerning our first parents, and to learn after what manner they may be best attacked. His bounding over the walls of Paradise; his sitting in the shape of a cormorant upon the tree of life, which stood in the centre of it and overtopped all the other trees of the garden; his alighting among the herd of animals which are so beautifully represented as playing about Adam and Eve; together with his transforming himself into different shapes in order to hear their conversation; are circumstances that give an agreeable surprise to the reader, and are devised with great art, to connect that series of adventures in which the poet has engaged this great artificer of fraud.

The thought of Satan's transformation into a cormorant, and placing himself on the tree of life, seems raised upon that passage in the Iliad, where two deities are described as perching on the top of an oak in the shape of vultures.

His planting himself at the ear of Eve, under the form of a toad, in order to produce vain dreams and imaginations, is a circumstance of the same nature; as his starting up in his own form is wonderfully fine, both in the literal description, and in the moral which is concealed under it. His answer upon his being discovered, and demanded to give an ac

count of himself, is conformable to the pride and intrepidity of his character?

Know ye not then,' said Satan, fill'd with scorn,
Know ye not me? Ye knew me once no mate
For you, there sitting where you durst not soar;
Not to know me argues yourselves unknown,
The lowest of your throng.'-

ib. 827.

Zephon's rebuke, with the influence it had on Satan, is exquisitely graceful and moral. Satan is afterwards led away to Gabriel, the chief of the guardian angels who kept watch in Paradise. His disdainful behaviour on this occasion is so remarkable a beauty, that the most ordinary reader cannot but take notice of it. Gabriel's discovering his approach at a distance is drawn with great strength and liveliness of imagination :

O friends, I hear the tread of nimble feet
Hast'ning this way, and now by glimpse discern
Ithuriel and Zephon through the shade,
And with them comes a third of regal port,
But faded splendour wan; who, by his gait
And fierce demeanour, seems the prince of Hell;
Not likely to part hence without contest;
Stand firm, for in his look defiance low'rs.

ib. 866.

The conference between Gabriel and Satan abounds with sentiments proper for the occasion, and suitable to the persons of the two speakers. Satan's clothing himself with terror when he prepares for the combat is truly sublime, and at least equal to Homer's description of Discord, celebrated by Longinus, or to that of Fame in Virgil, who are both represented with their feet standing upon the earth, and their heads reaching above the clouds ;

While thus he spake, th' angelic squadron bright
Turn'd fiery red, sharp'ning in mooned horns

Clust'ring, but not beneath his shoulders broad,
She, as a veil, down to her slender waist
Her unadorned golden tresses wore

Dishevell❜d, but in wanton ringlets waved.—
So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight
Of God or angel, for they thought no ill :

So, hand in hand, they pass'd, the loveliest pair
That ever since in love's embraces met. ib. 288, &c.

There is a fine spirit of poetry in the lines which follow, wherein they are described as sitting on a bed of flowers, by the side of a fountain, amidst a mixed assembly of animals.

The speeches of these two first lovers flow equally from passion and sincerity. The professions they make to one another are full of warmth; but, at the same time, founded on truth. In a word, they are the gallantries of Paradise:

-When Adam, first of men

'Sole partner and sole part of all these joys,
Dearer thyself than all;

But let us ever praise Him, and extol

His bounty, following our delightful task,

To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers;
Which, were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.'
To whom thus Eve replied: 0 thou, for whom,
And from whom, I was form'd, flesh of thy flesh,
And without whom am to no end, my guide
And head, what thou hast said is just and right.
For we to Him, indeed, all praises owe,
And daily thanks; I chiefly, who enjoy
So far the happier lot, enjoying thee
Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou

Like consort to thyself canst no where find, &c. ib. 408, &c.

The remaining part of Eve's speech, in which she gives an account of herself upon her first creation, and the manner in which she was brought to Adam, is, I think, as beautiful a passage as any in Milton, or perhaps in any other poet whatsoever. These passages are all worked off with so much art,

that they are capable of pleasing the most delicate reader, without offending the most severe.

That day I oft remember, when from sleep, &c. iv. 449.

A poet of less judgement and invention than this great author would have found it very difficult to have filled these tender parts of the poem with sentiments proper for a state of innocence; to have described the warmth of love, and the professions of it, without artifice or hyperbole; to have made the man speak the most endearing things without descending from his natural dignity, and the woman receiving them without departing from the modesty of her character; in a word, to adjust the prerogatives of wisdom and beauty, and make each appear to the other in its proper force and loveliness. This mutual subordination of the two sexes is wonderfully kept up in the whole poem, as particularly in the speech of Eve I have before mentioned, and upon the conclusion of it in the following lines:

So spake our general mother, and with eyes
Of conjugal attraction unreprov'd,
And meek surrender, half-embracing, lean'd
On our first father; half her swelling breast
Naked met his, under the flowing gold
Of her loose tresses hid; he, in delight
Both of her beauty and submissive charms,
Smiled with superior love.-

ib. 492.

The poet adds, that the devil turned away with envy at the sight of so much happiness.

We have another view of our first parents in their evening discourses, which is full of pleasing images and sentiments suitable to their condition and characters. The speech of Eve, in particular, is dressed up in such a soft and natural turn of words and sentiments, as cannot be sufficiently admired.

I shall close my reflections upon this book with observing the masterly transition which the poet makes to their evening worship in the following lines.

Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood,
Both turn'd, and, under open sky, adored

The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven,
Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe,
And starry pole: 'Thou also mad'st the night,
Maker omnipotent, and thou the day, &c.

ib. 720.

Most of the modern heroic poets have imitated the ancients, in beginning a speech without premising that the person said thus or thus; but as it

is easy to imitate the ancients in the omission of two or three words, it requires judgement to do it in such a manner as they shall not be missed, and that the speech may begin naturally without them. There is a fine instance of this kind out of Homer, in the twenty-third chapter of Longinus.

L

No. 322. MONDAY, MARCH 10, 1711-12.

- Ad humum mærore gravi deducit, et angit.

HOR. ARS POET. 110.

-Grief wrings her soul, and bends it down to earth.

FRANCIS.

IT is often said, after a man has heard a story with extraordinary circumstances, it is a very good one, if it be true' but as for the following relation, I should be glad were I sure it were false. It is told with such simplicity, and there are so many artless