that among the bright parts of the luminous body
above mentioned, there are some which glow more
intensely, and dart a stronger light than others; so,
notwithstanding I have already shown Milton's
poem to be very beautiful in general, I shall now
proceed to take notice of such beauties as appear to
me more exquisite than the rest. Milton has pro-
posed the subject of his poem in the following verses:
Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, heavenly Muse!-

These lines are, perhaps, as plain, simple, and unadorned, as any of the whole poem, in which particular the author has conformed himself to the example of Homer, and the precept of Horace.

His invocation to a work which turns in a great measure upon the creation of the world, is very properly made to the Muse who inspired Moses in those books from whence our author drew his subject, and to the Holy Spirit, who is therein represented as operating after a particular manner in the first production of nature. This whole exordium rises very happily into noble language and sentiments, as I think the transition to the fable is exquisitely beautiful and natural.

The nine days' astonishment, in which the angels lay entranced after their dreadful overthrow and fall from heaven, before they could recover either the use of thought or speech, is a noble circumstance, and very finely imagined. The division of hell into seas of fire, and into firm ground impregnated with the same furious element, with that particular circumstance of the exclusion of Hope from those infernal regions, are instances of the same great and fruitful invention.

The thoughts in the first speech and description of Satan, who is one of the principal actors in this poem, are wonderfully proper to give us a full idea of him. His pride, envy, and revenge, obstinacy, despair, and impenitence, are all of them very artfully interwoven. In short, his first speech is a complication of all those passions which discover themselves separately in several other of his speeches in the poem. The whole part of this great enemy of mankind is filled with such incidents, as are very apt to raise and terrify the reader's imagination. Of this nature, in the book now before us, is his being the first that awakens out of the general trance, with his posture on the burning lake, his rising from it, and the description of his shield and spear:

Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate,
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes
That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts beside
Prone on the flood extended long and large,
Lay floating many a rood-

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool
His mighty stature; on each hand the flames
Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and,

In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale.
Then with expanded wings he steers his flight
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air
That felt unusual weight-

His pond'rous shield,

Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round,
Behind him cast; the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb
Through optic glass the Tuscan artists view
At ev❜ning from the top of Fesole,
Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,
Rivers, or mountains, on her spotty globe.
His spear (to equal which the tallest pine
Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast
Of some great ammiral, were but a wand)
He walked with, to support uneasy steps
Over the burning marl

We shall be free! th' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy; will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure; and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav'n. Amidst those impieties which this enraged spirit utters in other places of the poem, the author has taken care to introduce none that is not big with absurdity, and incapable of shocking a religious reader; his words, as the poet himself describes them, bearing only a "semblance of worth, not substance." He is likewise with great art described as owning his adversary to be Almighty. Whatever perverse interpretation he puts on the justice, mercy, and other attributes of the Supreme Being, he frequently confesses his omnipotence, that being the perfection he was forced to allow him, and the only consideration which could support his pride under the shame of his defeat.

Nor must I here omit that oeautiful circumstance of his bursting out into tears, upon his survey of those innumerable spirits whom he had involved in the same guilt and ruin with himself:

He now prepar'd

To speak whereat their doubled ranks they bend
From wing to wing, and half inclose him round
With all his peers: Attention held them mute.
Thrice he assay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth-

learning in it, and a very agreeable turn of poetry,
The catalogue of evil spirits has abundance of
which rises in a great measure from its describing
the places where they were worshipped, by those
beautiful marks of rivers so frequent among the
ancient poets. The author had doubtless in this
place Homer's catalogue of ships, and Virgil's list
of warriors, in his view. The characters of Mo-
roll'dloch and Belial prepare the reader's mind for ther
respective speeches and behaviour in the second an
sixth books. The account of Thammuz is finel
romantic, and suitable to what we read among the
ancients of the worship which was paid to that idol
Thammuz came next behind,
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allur'd
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate
In am'rous ditties all a summer's day;
While smooth Adonis from his native rock
Ran purple to the sea, suppos'd with blood
Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the love tale

This quotation from Milton, and the paragraph immediately following it, were not in the first publication of this paper in folio.

Infected Sion's daughter with like heat,
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch
Ezekiel saw; when, by the vision led,
His eyes survey'd the dark idolatries
Of alienated Judah

The reader will pardon me if I insert as a note on this beautiful passage, the account given us by the late ingenious Mr. Maundrell of this ancient piece of worship, and probably the first occasion of such a superstition. "We came to a fair large river; doubtless the ancient river Adonis, as famous for the idolatrous rites performed here in lamentation of Adonis. We had the fortune to see what may be supposed to be the occasion of that opinion which Lucian relates concerning this river, viz. That this stream, at certain seasons of the year, especially about the feast of Adonis, is of a bloody colour; which the heathens looked upon as proceeding from a kind of sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis, who was killed by a wild boar in the mountains, out of which this stream rises. Something like this we saw actually come to pass; for the water was stained to a surprising redness and, as we observed in travelling, had discoloured the sea a great way into a reddish hue, occasioned doubtless by a sort of minium, or red earth, washed into the river by the violence of the rain, and not by any stain

from Adonis's blood."

The passage in the catalogue, explaining the manner how spirits transform themselves by contraction or enlargement of their dimensions, is introduced with great judgment, to make way for several surprising accidents in the sequel of the poem. There follows one at the very end of the first book, which is what the French critics call marvellous, but at the same time probable, by reason of the passage last mentioned. As soon as the infernal palace is finished, we are told the multitude and rabble of spirits immediately shrunk themselves into a small compass, that there might be room for such a numberless assembly in this capacious hall. which I most admire, and which indeed is very But it is the poet's refinement upon this thought noble in itself. For he tells us, that notwithstanding the vulgar among the fallen spirits contracted their forms, those of the first rank and dignity still pre

served their natural dimensions :

Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms
Reduc'd their shapes immense, and were at large,
Though without number, still amidst the hall
Of that infernal court. But far within,
And in their own dimensions like themselves,
The great seraphic lords and cherubim
In close recess and secret conclave sat,
A thousand demi-gods on golden seats,
Frequent and full

The character of Mammon, and the description of the Pandemonium, are full of beauties.

There are several other strokes in the first book wonderfully poetical, and instances of that sublime genius so peculiar to the author. Such is the description of Azazel's stature, and the infernal standard which he unfurls; as also of that ghastly light by which the fiends appear to one another in their place of torments:

The seat of desolation, void of light,

Save what the glimm'ring of those livid flames
Casts pale and dreadful

The review, which the leader makes of his infernal army:

He through the armed files

Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse
The whole battalion views, their order due,
Their visages and stature as of gods,

Their number last he sums; and now his heart
Distends with pride, and hard'ning in his strength
Glories

The flash of light which appeared upon the drawing of their swords :

He spake; and to confirm his words out flew
Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs
Of mighty cherubim; the sudden blaze
Far round illumin'd hell. —

The sudden production of the Pandæmonium :
Anon out of the earth a fabric huge

Rose like an exhalation, with the sound
Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet.
The artificial illuminations made in it:
From the arch'd roof

Pendent by subtle magic, many a row
Of starry lamps and blazing cressets,* fed
With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded light
As from a sky.

There are also several noble similes and allusions

in the first book of Paradise Lost. And here I must observe, that when Milton alludes either to things or persons, he never quits his simile until it rises to some very great idea, which is often foreign to the does not, perhaps, last above a line or two, but the occasion that gave birth to it. The resemblance poet runs on with the hint until he has raised out of flame the mind of the reader, and to give it that it some glorious image or sentiment, proper to insublime kind of entertainment which is suitable to the with Homer's and Virgil's way of writing, cannot but nature of an heroic poem. Those who are acquainted be pleased with this kind of structure in Milton's similitudes. I am the more particular on this head, which are so much in vogue among modern poets, because ignorant readers, who have formed their taste upon the quaint similes and little turns of wit, cannot relish these beauties, which are of a much Milton's comparisons, in which they do not see any higher nature, and are therefore apt to censure surprising points of likeness. Monsieur Perrault was a man of this vitiated relish, and for that very reason has endeavoured to turn into ridicule several of Homer's similitudes, which he calls "comparaisons à longue queue," long-tailed comparisons." I shall conclude this paper on the first book of Milton with the answer which Monsieur Boileau makes to Perrault on this occasion: "Comparisons," says he, "in odes and epic poems, are not introduced only to illustrate and embellish the discourse, but to amuse and relax the mind of the reader, by fretion to the principal subject, and by leading him quently disengaging him from too painful an atteninto other agreeable images. Homer, says he, excelled in this particular, whose comparisons abound with such images of nature as are proper to relieve and diversify his subjects. He continually instructs the reader, and makes him take notice, even in objects which are every day before his eyes, of such circumstances as he should not otherwise have observed. To this he adds, as a maxim universally

The shout of the whole host of fallen angels when acknowledged, "that it is not necessary in poetry

drawn up in battle array:

The universal host up sent

A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

for the points of the comparison to correspond with

one another exactly, but that a general resemblance is sufficient, and that too much nicety in this particnlar savours of the rhetorician and epigrammatist." In short, if we look into the conduct of Homer, Virgil, and Milton, as the great fable is the soul of each poem, so to give their works an agreeable variety, their episodes are so many short fables, and their similes so many short episodes; to which you may add, if you please, that their metaphors are so many short similes. If the reader considers the comparisons in the first book of Milton, of the sun in an eclipse, of the sleeping leviathan, of the bees swarming about their hive, of the fairy dance, in the view wherein I have here placed them, he will easily discover the great beauties that are in each of those passages.

L.

have no reason to fancy my mistress has any regard
for me, but from a very disinterested value which I
have for her. If from any hint in any future paper
of yours she gives me the least encouragement, I
doubt not but I shall surmount all other difficulties;
and inspired by so noble a motive for the care of
my fortune, as the belief she is to be concerned in
it, I will not despair of receiving her one day from
her father's own hand.
I am, Sir,

"Your most obedient humble Servant,
"CLYTANDER."

"TO HIS WORSHIP THE SPECTATOR.
"The humble petition of Anthony Title-page, sta-
tioner, in the centre of Lincoln's-inn-fields.
"Sheweth,

"That your petitioner and his forefathers, have

No. 304.] MONDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1711-12. been sellers of books for time immemorial: that

Vulnus alit venis et cæco carpitur igni.

VIRG. En. iv. 2

A latent fire preys on his feverish veins.

THE circumstances of my correspondent, whose letter I now insert, are so frequent, that I cannot want compassion so much as to forbear laying it before the town. There is something so mean and inhuman in a direct Smithfield bargain for children, that if this lover carries his point, and observes the rules he pretends to follow, I do not only wish him success, but also that it may animate others to follow his example. I know not one motive relating to this life which could produce so many honourable and worthy actions, as the hopes of obtaining a woman of merit. There would ten thousand ways of industry and honest ambition be pursued by young men, who believed that the persons admired had value enough for their passion to attend the event of their good fortune in all their applications, in order to make their circumstances fall in with the duties they owe to themselves, their families, and their country. All these relations a man should think of who intends to go into the state of marriage, and expects to make it a state of pleasure and satisfaction.

"MR. SPECTATOR,

your petitioner's ancestor, Crouch-back Title-page,
was the first of that vocation in Britain; who keep-
ing his station (in fair weather) at the corner of
Lothbury, was, by way of eminency, called 'The
Stationer,' a name which from him all succeeding
booksellers have affected to bear: that the station
of your petitioner and his father has been in the
place of his present settlement ever since that square
has been built: that your petitioner has formerly
had the honour of your worship's custom, and hopes
you never had reason to complain of your penny-
worths: that particularly he sold you your first Lilly's
Grammar, and at the same time a Wit's Common-
wealth, almost as good as new: moreover,
that your
first rudimental essays in spectatorship were made
in your petioner's shop, where you often practised
for hours together, sometimes on the little hierogly-
phics either gilt, silvered, or plain, which the
Egyptian woman on the other side of the shop had
wrought in gingerbread, and sometimes on the En-
glish youths who in sundry places there were exer-
cising themselves in the traditional sports of the field.

"From these considerations it is, that your peti-
tioner is encouraged to apply himself to you, and to
proceed humbly to acquaint your worship, that he
has certain intelligence that you receive great num-
bers of defamatory letters designed by their authors
to be published, which you throw aside and totally
neglect: Your petitioner therefore prays, that you
will please to bestow on him those refuse letters, and
he hopes by printing them to get a more plentiful
provision for his family; or, at the worst, he may be
allowed to sell them by the pound weight to his
good customers the pastry-cooks of London and
Westminster.

"And your Petitioner shall ever pray," &c.

"TO THE SPECTATOR.

"I have for some years indulged a passion for a young lady of age and quality suitable to my own, but very much superior in fortune. It is the fashion with parents (how justly I leave you to judge) to make all regards give way to the article of wealth. From this one consideration it is, that I have concealed the ardent love I have for her; but I am beholden to the force of my love for many advantages which I reaped from it towards the better conduct of my life. A certain complacency to all the world, a strong desire to oblige wherever it lay in my power, and a circumspect behaviour in all my words and actions, have rendered me more particularly acceptable to all my friends and acquaintance. Love has had the same good effect upon my fortune, and I have increased in riches, in proportion to my advancement in those arts which make a man agreeable and amiable. There is a certain sympathy "That your petitioners have, with great industry which will tell my mistress from these circumstances, and application, arrived at the most exact art of inthat it is I who writ this for her reading, if you will vitation or entreaty: that by a beseeching air and please to insert it. There is not a downright en- persuasive address, they have for many years last mity, but a great coldness between our parents; so past peaceably drawn in every tenth passenger, that if either of us declared any kind sentiments whether they intended or not to call at their shops, for each other, her friends would be very backward to come in and buy; and from that softness of beto lay an obligation upon our family, and mine to haviour have arrived among tradesmen at the gentle receive it from hers. Under these delicate circum-appellation of The Fawners,' stances it is no easy matter to act with safety. I

"The humble petition of Bartholomew Ladylove,
of Round-court, in the parish of St. Martin's
in the Fields, in behalf of himself and neigh-
bours.

"Sheweth,

That there have of late set up amongst us cer

D

That while the fawners strain and relax the muscles of their faces, in making a distinction between a spinster in a coloured scarf and a handmaid in a straw hat, the worriers use the same roughness to both, and prevail upon the easiness of the pas-manded in the present war, has, it seems, brought so sengers, to the impoverishment of your petitioners. "Your petitioners therefore most humbly pray, that the worriers may not be permitted to inhabit the politer parts of the town; and that Round-court may remain a receptacle for buyers of a more soft education.