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Of human beings there are but two; but those two are the parents of mankind, venerable before their fall for dignity and innocence. and amiable after it for repentance and submisfion. In their first state their affection is tender without weakness, and their piety sublime with. out presumption. When they have sinned, they shew how discord begins in natural. frailty, and how it ought to cease in mutual forbearance; how confidence of the divine favour is forfeited by sin, and how hope of pardon may be obtained by penitence and prayer. A state of innocence we can only conceive, if indeed, in our present misery, it be possible to conceive it; but the sentiments and worship proper to a fallen and offending being, we have all to learn, as we have all to practise.

The poet, whatever be done, is always great. Our progenitors, in their first state, conversed with angels; even when folly and sin had degraded them, they had not in their humiliation the port of mean suitors; and they rise again to reverential regard, when we find that their prayers were heard. .

As human passions did not enter the world before the Fall, there is in the Paradise Lost little opportunity for the pathetick; but what little there is has not been lost. That passion which is peculiar to rational nature, the anguish arising from the consciousness of transgression, and the horrours attending the sense of the Divine displeasure, are very justly defcribed and forcibly impressed. But the passions are moved only on one occasion ; sublimity is the general and prevailing quality in this

poem;

poem ; sublimity variously modified, fometimes descriptive, sometimes argumentative.

The defects and faults of Paradise Lost, for faults and defects every work of man must · have, it is the business of impartial criticism to discover. As, in displaying the excellence of Milton, I have not made long quotations, because of selecting beauties there had been no end, I shall in the fame general manner mention that which seems to deserve censure; for what Englishman can take delight in transcribing passages, which, if they lefsen" the reputation of Milton, diminish in some degree the honour of our country?

The generality of my scheme does not admit the frequent notice of verbal inaccuracies; which Bentley, better skilled in grammar than in poetry, has often found, though he sometimes made them, and which he imputed to the obtrusions of a reviser whom the author's blindness obliged him to employ. A fuppofition rafh and groundless, if he thought it true; and vile and pernicious, if, as is said, he in private allowed it to be false.

The plan of Paradise Loft has this inconvenience, that it comprises neither human actions nor human manners. The man and woman who act and suffer, are in a state which no other man or woman can ever know. The reader finds no transaction in which he can be engaged ; beholds no condition in which he can by any effort of imagination place himself; he has, therefore, little natural curiosity or sympathy.

We all, indeed, feel the effects of Adam's disobedience; we all sin like Adam, and like

him must all bewail our offences; we have restless and insidious enemies in the fallen angels, and in the blessed spirits we have guardians and friends ; in the Redemption of mankind we hope to be included; and in the description of heaven and hell we are surely interest. ed, as we are all to reside hereafter either in the regions of horror or of bliss.

But these truths are too important to be new; they have been taught to our infancy ; they have mingled with our folitary thoughts and familiar conversation, and are habitually interwoven with the whole texture of life. Being therefore not new, they raise no unaccuftomed emotion in the mind; what we knew before we cannot learn ; what is not unexpected cannot surprise.

Of the ideas suggested by these awful scenes, from some we recede with reverence, except when stated hours require their association ; and from others we shrink with horror, or admit them only as falutary inflictions, as coun: terpoifes to our interests and passions. Such images rather obstruct the career of fancy than incite it.

Pleasure and terrour are indeed the genuine sources of poetry; but poetical pleasure must be such as human imagination can at least conceive, and poetical terrour such as human strength and fortitude may combat. The good and evil of Eternity are too ponderous for the wings of wit; the mind sinks under them in passive helplessness, content with calm belief and humble adoration.

Known truths, however, may take a different appearance, and be conveyed to the mind

by by a new train of intermediate images. This Milton has undertaken, and performed with pregnancy and vigour of mind peculiar to himfelf. Whoever confider the few radical positions which the Scriptures afforded him, will wonder by what energetick operation he' expanded them to such extent, and ramified them to so much variety, restrained as he was by religious reverence from licentiousness of fiction.

Here is a full display of the united force of study and genius ; of a great accumulation of materials, with judgement to digest, and fancy to combine them : Milton was able to selecť from nature, or from story, from ancient fable, or from modern science, whatever could illustrate or adorn his thoughts. An accumu. Fation of knowledge impregnated his mind, fermented by study, and sublimed by imaginarion.

It has been therefore faid, without an indecent hyperbole, by one of his encomiasts, that in reading Paradise Lost we read a book of universal knowledge.

But original deficience cannot be supplied. The want of human interest is always felt, Paradise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to take up again. It's perusal is a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for instruction, retire harrassed and overburdened, and look elsewhere for recreation; we delert our master, and seek for companions.

Another inconvenience of Milton's design is, that it requires the description of what cannot be described, the agency of spirits. Ite

saw

saw that immateriality supplied no images, and that he could not show angels acting but by instruments of action; he therefore invested them with form and matter. This, being necessary, was therefore defensible; and he should have secured the consistency of his system, by keeping immateriality out of sight, and enticing his reader to drop it from his thoughts. But he has unhappily perplexed his poetry with his philosophy. His infernal and celestial powers are sometimes pure fpirit, and sometimes animated body. When Satan walks with his lance upon the burning marle, he has a body; when in his passage between hell and the new world, he is in danger of finking in the vacuity, and is supported by a gust of rising vapours, he has a body; when he animates the toad, he seems to be mere spirit, that can penetrate matter at pleasure ; when he starts up in his own mape, he has at least a determined form; and when he is brought before Gabriel, he has a spear and shield, which he had the power of hiding in the toad, though the arms of the contending angels are evidently material.

The vulgar inhabitants of Pandæmonium being incorporeal spirits, are at large, though without number, in a limited space ; yet in the battle, when they were overwhelmed by mountains, their armour hurt them, crushed in upon their substance, now grown grofs by finning. This likewise happened to the uncorrupted angels, who were overthrown the sooner for their arms, for unarmed they might easily as spirits have evaded by contraction, or remove. Even as spirits they are hardly spiritual ; for

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