T.

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No. 369. Saturday, May 3, 1712. Addison.

'Segnius irritant animos demissa per aures

Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus--'

Hor.

Milton, after having represented in Vision the History of Mankind to the

first great Period of Nature, dispatches the remaining part of it in

Narration. He has devised a very handsome Reason for the Angels

proceeding with Adam after this manner; though doubtless the true Reason

was the Difficulty which the Poet would have found to have shadowed out

so mixed and complicated a Story in visible Objects. I could wish,

however, that the Author had done it, whatever Pains it might have cost

him. To give my Opinion freely, I think that the exhibiting part of the

History of Mankind in Vision, and part in Narrative, is as if an

History-Painter should put in Colours one half of his Subject, and write

down the remaining part of it. If Milton's Poem flags any where, it is

in this Narration, where in some places the Author has been so attentive

to his Divinity, that he has neglected his Poetry. The Narration,

however, rises very happily on several Occasions, where the Subject is

capable of Poetical Ornaments, as particularly in the Confusion which he

describes among the Builders of Babel, and in his short Sketch of the

Plagues of Egypt. The Storm of Hail and Fire, with the Darkness that

overspread the Land for three Days, are described with great Strength.

The beautiful Passage which follows, is raised upon noble Hints in

Scripture:

--Thus with ten Wounds

The River-Dragon tamed at length submits

To let his Sojourners depart, and oft

Humbles his stubborn Heart; but still as Ice

More harden'd after Thaw, till in his Rage

Pursuing whom he late dismissed, the Sea

Swallows him with his Host, but them lets pass

As on dry Land between two Chrystal Walls,

Aw'd by the Rod of Moses so to stand

Divided--

The River-Dragon is an Allusion to the Crocodile, which inhabits the

Nile, from whence Egypt derives her Plenty. This Allusion is taken from

that Sublime Passage in Ezekiel, Thus saith the Lord God, behold I am

against thee, Pharaoh King of Egypt, the great Dragon that lieth in the

midst of his Rivers, which hath said, my River is mine own, and I have

made it for my self. Milton has given us another very noble and poetical

Image in the same Description, which is copied almost Word for Word out

of the History of Moses.

All Night he will pursue, but his Approach

Darkness defends between till morning Watch;

Then through the fiery Pillar and the Cloud

God looking forth, will trouble all his Host,

And craze their Chariot Wheels: when by command

Moses once more his potent Rod extends

Over the Sea: the Sea his Rod obeys:

On their embattell'd Ranks the Waves return

And overwhelm their War--

As the principal Design of this Episode was to give Adam an Idea of the

Holy Person, who was to reinstate human Nature in that Happiness and

Perfection from which it had fallen, the Poet confines himself to the

Line of Abraham, from whence the Messiah was to Descend. The Angel is

described as seeing the Patriarch actually travelling towards the Land

of Promise, which gives a particular Liveliness to this part of the

Narration.

I see him, but thou canst not, with what Faith

He leaves his Gods, his Friends, his Native Soil,

Ur of Chaldæa, passing now the Ford

To Haran, after him a cumbrous Train

Of Herds and Flocks, and numerous Servitude,

Not wand'ring poor, but trusting all his Wealth

With God, who call'd him, in a Land unknown.

Canaan he now attains, I see his Tents

Pitch'd about Sechem, and the neighbouring Plain

Of Moreh, there by Promise he receives

Gifts to his Progeny of all that Land,

From Hamath Northward to the Desart South.

(Things by their Names I call, though yet unnamed.)

As Virgil's Vision in the sixth Æneid probably gave Milton the Hint of

this whole Episode, the last Line is a Translation of that Verse, where

Anchises mentions the Names of Places, which they were to bear

hereafter.

Hæc tum nomina erunt, nunc sunt sine nomine terræ.

The Poet has very finely represented the Joy and Gladness of Heart which

rises in Adam upon his discovery of the Messiah. As he sees his Day at a

distance through Types and Shadows, he rejoices in it: but when he finds

the Redemption of Man compleated, and Paradise again renewed, he breaks

forth in Rapture and Transport;

O Goodness infinite, Goodness immense!

That all this Good of Evil shall produce, &c.

I have hinted in my sixth Paper on Milton, that an Heroick Poem,

according to the Opinion of the best Criticks, ought to end happily, and

leave the Mind of the Reader, after having conducted it through many

Doubts and Fears, Sorrows and Disquietudes, in a State of Tranquility

and Satisfaction. Milton's Fable, which had so many other Qualifications

to recommend it, was deficient in this Particular. It is here therefore,

that the Poet has shewn a most exquisite Judgment, as well as the finest

Invention, by finding out a Method to supply this natural Defect in his

Subject. Accordingly he leaves the Adversary of Mankind, in the last

View which he gives us of him, under the lowest State of Mortification

and Disappointment. We see him chewing Ashes, grovelling in the Dust,

and loaden with supernumerary Pains and Torments. On the contrary, our

two first Parents are comforted by Dreams and Visions, cheared with

Promises of Salvation, and, in a manner, raised to a greater Happiness

than that which they had forfeited: In short, Satan is represented

miserable in the height of his Triumphs, and Adam triumphant in the

height of Misery.

Milton's Poem ends very nobly. The last Speeches of Adam and the

Arch-Angel are full of Moral and Instructive Sentiments. The Sleep that

fell upon Eve, and the Effects it had in quieting the Disorders of her

Mind, produces the same kind of Consolation in the Reader, who cannot

peruse the last beautiful Speech which is ascribed to the Mother of

Mankind, without a secret Pleasure and Satisfaction.

Whence thou return'st, and whither went'st, I know;

For God is also in Sleep, and Dreams advise,

Which he hath sent propitious, some great Good

Presaging, since with Sorrow and Heart's Distress

Wearied I fell asleep: but now lead on;

In me is no delay: with thee to go,

Is to stay here; without thee here to stay,

Is to go hence unwilling: thou to me

Art all things under Heav'n, all Places thou,

Who for my wilful Crime art banish'd hence.

This farther Consolation yet secure

I carry hence; though all by me is lost,

Such Favour, I unworthy, am vouchsafed,

By me the promised Seed shall all restore.

The following Lines, which conclude the Poem, rise in a most glorious

Blaze of Poetical Images and Expressions.

Heliodorus in his Æthiopicks acquaints us, that the Motion of the Gods

differs from that of Mortals, as the former do not stir their Feet, nor

proceed Step by Step, but slide o'er the Surface of the Earth by an

uniform Swimming of the whole Body. The Reader may observe with how

Poetical a Description Milton has attributed the same kind of Motion to

the Angels who were to take Possession of Paradise.

So spake our Mother Eve, and Adam heard

Well pleas'd, but answered not; for now too nigh

Th' Archangel stood, and from the other Hill

To their fix'd Station, all in bright Array

The Cherubim descended; on the Ground

Gliding meteorous, as evening Mist

Ris'n from a River, o'er the Marish glides,

And gathers ground fast at the Lab'rer's Heel

Homeward returning. High in Front advanced,

The brandishd Sword of God before them blaz'd

Fierce as a Comet--

The Author helped his Invention in the following Passage, by reflecting

on the Behaviour of the Angel, who, in Holy Writ, has the Conduct of Lot

and his Family. The Circumstances drawn from that Relation are very

gracefully made use of on this Occasion.

In either Hand the hast'ning Angel caught

Our ling'ring Parents, and to th' Eastern Gate

Led them direct; and down the Cliff as fast

To the subjected Plain; then disappear'd.

They looking back, &c.

The Scene [1] which our first Parents are surprized with, upon their

looking back on Paradise, wonderfully strikes the Reader's Imagination,

as nothing can be more natural than the Tears they shed on that

Occasion.

They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld

Of Paradise, so late their happy Seat,

Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate

With dreadful Faces throng'd and fiery Arms:

Some natural Tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;

The World was all before them, where to chuse

Their Place of Rest, and Providence their Guide.

If I might presume to offer at the smallest Alteration in this divine

Work, I should think the Poem would end better with the Passage here

quoted, than with the two Verses which follow:

They hand in hand, with wandering Steps and slow,

Through Eden took their solitary Way.

These two Verses, though they have their Beauty, fall very much below

the foregoing Passage, and renew in the Mind of the Reader that Anguish

which was pretty well laid by that Consideration,

The world was all before them, where to chuse

Their Place of Rest, and Providence their Guide.

The Number of Books in Paradise Lost is equal to those of the Æneid.

Our Author in his first Edition had divided his Poem into ten Books, but

afterwards broke the seventh and the eleventh each of them into two

different Books, by the help of some small Additions. This second

Division was made with great Judgment, as any one may see who will be at

the pains of examining it. It was not done for the sake of such a

Chimerical Beauty as that of resembling Virgil in this particular, but

for the more just and regular Disposition of this great Work.

Those who have read Bossu, and many of the Criticks who have written

since his Time, will not pardon me if I do not find out the particular

Moral which is inculcated in Paradise Lost. Though I can by no means

think, with the last mentioned French Author, that an Epick Writer first

of all pitches upon a certain Moral, as the Ground-Work and Foundation

of his Poem, and afterwards finds out a Story to it: I am, however, of

opinion, that no just Heroick Poem ever was or can be made, from whence

one great Moral may not be deduced. That which reigns in Milton, is the

most universal and most useful that can be imagined; it is in short

this, That Obedience to the Will of God makes Men happy, and that

Disobedience makes them miserable. This is visibly the Moral of the

principal Fable, which turns upon Adam and Eve, who continued in

Paradise, while they kept the command that was given them, and were

driven out of it as soon as they had transgressed. This is likewise the

Moral of the principal Episode, which shews us how an innumerable

Multitude of Angels fell from their State of Bliss, and were cast into

Hell upon their Disobedience. Besides this great Moral, which may be

looked upon as the Soul of the Fable, there are an Infinity of

Under-Morals which are to be drawn from the several parts of the Poem,

and which makes this Work more useful and Instructive than any other

Poem in any Language.

Those who have criticized on the Odyssey, the Iliad, and Æneid, have

taken a great deal of Pains to fix the Number of Months and Days

contained in the Action of each of those Poems. If any one thinks it

worth his while to examine this Particular in Milton, he will find that

from Adam's first Appearance in the fourth Book, to his Expulsion from

Paradise in the twelfth, the Author reckons ten Days. As for that part

of the Action which is described in the three first Books, as it does

not pass within the Regions of Nature, I have before observed that it is

not subject to any Calculations of Time.

I have now finished my Observations on a Work which does an Honour to

the English Nation. I have taken a general View of it under these four

Heads, the Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments, and the Language, and

made each of them the Subject of a particular Paper. I have in the next

Place spoken of the Censures which our Author may incur under each of

these Heads, which I have confined to two Papers, though I might have

enlarged the Number, if I had been disposed to dwell on so ungrateful a

Subject. I believe, however, that the severest Reader will not find any

little Fault in Heroick Poetry, which this Author has fallen into, that

does not come under one of those Heads among which I have distributed

his several Blemishes. After having thus treated at large of Paradise

Lost, I could not think it sufficient to have celebrated this Poem in

the whole, without descending to Particulars. I have therefore bestowed

a Paper upon each Book, and endeavoured not only to [prove [2]] that the

Poem is beautiful in general, but to point out its Particular Beauties,

and to determine wherein they consist. I have endeavoured to shew how

some Passages are beautiful by being Sublime, others by being Soft,

others by being Natural; which of them are recommended by the Passion,

which by the Moral, which by the Sentiment, and which by the Expression.

I have likewise endeavoured to shew how the Genius of the Poet shines by

a happy Invention, a distant Allusion, or a judicious Imitation; how he

has copied or improved Homer or Virgil, and raised his own Imaginations

by the Use which he has made of several Poetical Passages in Scripture.

I might have inserted also several Passages of Tasso, which our Author

[has [3]] imitated; but as I do not look upon Tasso to be a sufficient

Voucher, I would not perplex my Reader with such Quotations, as might do

more Honour to the Italian than the English Poet. In short, I have

endeavoured to particularize those innumerable kinds of Beauty, which it

would be tedious to recapitulate, but which are essential to Poetry, and

which may be met with in the Works of this great Author. Had I thought,

at my first engaging in this design, that it would have led me to so

great a length, I believe I should never have entered upon it; but the

kind Reception which it has met with among those whose Judgments I have

a value for, as well as the uncommon Demands which my Bookseller tells

me have been made for these particular Discourses, give me no reason to

repent of the Pains I have been at in composing them.