fpeech, points out more particularly the magnificent publick and private buildings of ancient Rome, defcanting on the fplendour and power of its state, which he particularly exemplifies in the superb pomp with which their provincial magis. trates proceed to their refpective governments; and in the numerous ambaffadours that arrive from every quarter of the habitable globe, to folicit the protection of Rome and the emperour. These are two pictures of the most highly finished kind: the numerous figures are in motion before us; we absolutely fee "Prætors, proconfuls, to their provinces "Hafting, or on return, in robes of state, Having obferved that fuch a power as this of Rome must reafonably be preferred to that of the Parthians, which he had dif played in the preceding Book, and that there were no other powers worth our Lord's attention, the Tempter now begins to apply all this to his purpose: by a strongly drawn description of the vicious and deteftable character of Tiberius, he fhows how eafy it would be to expel him, to take poffeffion of his throne, and to free the Roman people from that flavery in which they were then held. This he proffers to accomplish for our Lord, whom he incites to accept the offer not only from a principle of ambition, but as the best means of securing to himself his promifed inheritance, the throne of David. Our Lord in reply fcarcely notices the arguments which Satan had been urging to him; and only takes occafion, from the description which had been given of the fplendour and magnificence of Rome, to arraign the fuperlatively extravagant luxury of the Romans, (poffibly not without a glance at the manners of our Court at that time,) and briefly to fum up thofe vices and mifconducts then rapidly advancing to their height, which foon brought on the decline, and in the end effectuated the fall, of the Roman power. -The next object, which our Author had in view in his propofed difplay of Heathen excellence, was a scene of a different, but no lefs intoxicating, kind; Athens, in all its pride of literature and philofophy. But he feems to have been well aware that an immediate tranfition, from the view of Rome to that of Athens, must have diminished the effect of each. The intermediate fpace he has finely occupied. Our Lord, unmoved by the fplendid fcene difplayed to captivate him, and having only been led by it to notice the vices and corruptions of the Heathen world, in the conclufion of his speech marks the vanity of all earthly power, by referring to his own future kingdom, as that which by fupernatural means fhould deftroy" all monarchies befides throughout the world." The Fiend hereupon urged by the violence of his defperation to an indifcretion, which he had not before fhowed, endeavours to enhance the value of his offers by declaring that the only terms, on which he would bestow them, were thofe of our Lord's falling down and worshipping him. To this our Saviour answers in a fpeech of marked abhorrence blended with contempt. This draws from Satan a reply of as much art, and as finely written, as any in the Poem; in which he endeavours, by an artful juftification of himself, to repair the indifcretion of his blafphemous proposal, and to foften the effect of it on our Bleffed Lord, fo far at least as to be enabled to refume the procefs of his enterprise. The tranfition, ver. 212, to his new ground of temptation is peculiarly happy having given up all profpect of working upon our Lord by the incitements of ambition, he now compliments him on his predilection for wifdom, and his carly difplay of fuperiour knowJedge; and recommends it to him, for the purpofe of accomplishing his profeffed defign of reforming and converting mankind, to cultivate the literature and philofophy for which the most polished part of the Heathen world, and Greece in particular, was fo eminent. This leads to his View of Athens; which is given, with fingular effect, after the preceding dialogue, where the blafphemous rage of the Tempter, and the art with which he en deavours to recover it, ferve, by the variety of the fubject and the interesting nature of the circumftance, materially to relieve the preceding and enfuing defcriptions. The Tempter, refuming his ufual plaufibility of language, now becomes the Hierophant of the fcene, which he defcribes, as he fhows it, with so much accuracy, that we difcern every object diftinctly before us. The general view of Athens, with its moft celebrated buildings and places of learned refort, is beautiful and original; and the defcription of its muficians, poets, orators, and philofophers, is given with the hand of a mafter, and with all the fond affection of an enthusaft in Greek literature. Our Lord's reply is no less ad mirable; particularly where he displays the fallacy of the Heathen philofophy, and points out the errours of its most admired fects, with the greatest acuteness of argument, and at the same time in a noble strain of poetry. His contrafting the poetry and policy of the Hebrews with those of the Greeks, on the ground of what had been advanced by fome learned men in this respect, is highly confiftent with the argument of this Poem; and is fo far from originating in that fanaticism, with which fome of his ableft commentators have chosen to brand our Author, that it ferves duly to counterbalance his preceding eloge on heathen literature. The next speech of the Tempter, ver. 368, is one of those masterpieces of plain compofition, for which Milton is fo eminent: the fufferings of our Bleffed Lord are therein foretold with an energetick brevity, that, on fuch fubjects, has an effect fuperiour to the most flowery and decorated language. The dialogue here ceafes for a fhort time. The poet, in his own perfon, now defcribes, ver. 394, &c. our Lord's being conveyed by Satan back to the wildernefs, the ftorm which the Tempter there raifes, the tremendous night which our Lord paffes, and the beautiful morning by which it is fucceeded:-how exquifitely fublime and beautiful is all this!Yet this is the Poem, from which the ardent admirers of Milton's other works turn, as from a cold, uninterefting compofition, the produce of his dotage, of a palfied hand, no longer able to hold the pencil of poetry! The dialogue which enfues, is worthy of this Book, and carries on the fubject in the best manner to its concluding Temptation. The last speech of Satan is particularly deferving 'our notice. The Fiend, now "fwoln with rage" at the repeated failure of his attacks, breaks out into a language of grofs infult, profeffing to doubt whether our Lord, whom he had before frequently addreffed as the Son of God, is in any way entitled to that appellation. From this wantonly blafphemous obloquy he still recovers himself, and offers, with his ufual art, a qualification of what he had laft faid, and a justification of his per fifting in further attempts on the Divine Perfon, by whom he had been fo conftantly foiled. These are the masterly difcriminating touches, with which the poet has admirably drawn the character of the Tempter: The general colouring is that of plaufible hypocrify, through which, when elicited by the fudden irritation of defeat, his diabolical malignity frequently flashes Qut, and difplays itfelf with fingular effect. We now come to the catastrophe of the Poem.The Tempter conveys our Bleffed Lord to the temple at Jerufalem; where the description of the holy city, and of the temple, is pleafingly drawn. Satan has now little to fay; he brings the question to a decifive point, in which any perfuafion of rhetorical language on his part can. be of no avail; he therefore speaks in his own undifguifed perfon and character, and his language accordingly is that of fcornful infult. The refult of the trial is given with the utmost brevity; and its confequences are admirably painted. The defpair and fall of Satan, with its fucceffive illustrations, ver. 562 to ver, 580, have all the boldness of Salvator Rofa; while the Angels fupporting our Lord, " as on a floating couch, through the blithe air," is a fweetly pleafing and highly finished picture from the pencil of Guido. The refreshment ministered to our Lord by the Angels is an intended and striking contrast to the luxurious banquet with which he had been tempted in the preceding part of the Poem. The Angelick Hymn, which concludes the Book, is at once poetical and scriptural: We may justly apply to it, and to this whole Poem, an observation, which Fuller, in his Worthies of Effex, first applied to Quarles, and which the ingenious Mr. Headley, in the Biographical Sketches prefixed to his Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry, has tranferred to the only poet to whom it is truly appropriate: "To mix the waters of Jordan and Helicon in the fame cup, was refervçd for the hand of Milton; and for him, and him only, to find the bays of Mount Olivet equally verdant with thofe of Parnaffus." It may further be observed that Milton is himself an eminent inftance of one of his own obfervations in his Tractate of Education; having practically demonftrated, what he invites the juvenile student in Poetry theoretically to learn, "what religious, what glorious, and magnificent ufe might be made of Poetry." DUNster. Origin of Paradife Regained. THE origin of this Poem is attributed to the fuggestion of Ellwood the quaker. Milton had lent this friend, in 1665, his Paradife Loft, then completed in manufcript, at Chalfont St. Giles; defiring him to perufe it at his leifure, and give his judgement of it. On returning the Poem, Milton asked him what he thought of it: which I modeftly, but freely told him," fays Ellwood in his Life of himfelf; "and, after fome further dif courfe about it, I pleafantly faid to him, Thou haft faid much of Paradife Loft, but what haft thou to fay of Paradife Found? He made me no anfwer, but fat fome time in a mufe; then broke off that difcourfe, and fell upon another fubject.” When Ellwood afterwards waited on him in London, Milton fhowed him his PARADISE REGAINED; and, "in a pleafant tone," faid to him," This is owing to you; for you put it into my head by the question you put me at Chalfont; which before I had not thought of." On this fubject the Mufes had not been before filent. In our own language, Bale has given us " A Brefe Comedy, or Enterlude, concernynge the Temptacyon of our Lorde and Saver Jefus Chrift by Sathan in the Defart, 1538." Milton might have noticed this ancient drama; of which an interefting account is given by my friend the Rev. W. Beloe, in the firft volume of his valuable Anecdotes of Literature, to which the conclufion of the drama is fubjoined. My friend had been favoured with the ufe of this fcarce book by a moft intelligent and learned poffeffor of literary curiofities, Francis Douce, Efq. to whofe kindnefs I am indebted for the liberty of making further extracts from it; with which I truft to gratify the curious reader. I felect part of the foliloquy of Satan, and of the dialogue between our Lord and him, fign. D. i. b. D. ij. a. "Satan tentator. "I hearde a great noyfe in Jordane now of late, "6 Vpon one Jefus, foundynge from heauen aboue: "Thys is myne owne fonne whych hath withdrawne al hate, "And he that doth stande most hyghly in my loue. My wyttes the fame founde doth not a lyttle moue: |