I roll their raptures, but not catch their fire.
Dark, though not blind, like thee, Mæonides!1

Or, Milton! thee; ah! could I reach your strain!
Or his, who made Mæonides our own.2

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Man too he sung: immortal man I sing;

Oft bursts my song beyond the bounds of life;
What now, but immortality, can please?

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Oh! had he press'd his theme, pursued the track
Which opens out of darkness into day!
Oh! had he, mounted on his wing of fire,

Soar'd where I sink, and sung immortal man,
How had it bless'd mankind, and rescued me!

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VIRTUE.-[COLERIDGE.]

1. In the works of moralists, both Christian and Pagan, it is often asserted-(indeed, there are few common-places of more frequent recurrence)—that the happiness even of this life consists solely, or principally, in virtue; that virtue is the only happiness of this life; that virtue is the truest pleasure; and the like.

2. I doubt not that the meaning which the writers intended to convey by these and the like expressions was true and wise. But I deem it safer to say that in all the outward relations of this life, in all our outward conduct and actions, both in what we should do and in what we should abstain from, the dictates of virtue are the very same with those of self-interest, tending to, though they do not proceed from, the same point.

3. For, the outward object of virtue being the greatest producible sum of happiness of all men, it must needs include the object of an intelligent self-love, which is the greatest possible happiness of one individual; for what is true of all must be true of each. Hence, you can not become better, that is more virtuous, but you will become

happier; and you can not become worse, that is more vicious, without an increase of misery, or at the best a proportional loss of enjoyment as the consequence.

4. If the thing were not inconsistent with our wellbeing, and known to be so, it would not have been classed as a vice. Thus, what in a feeble and disordered mind is called prudence, is the voice of nature in a healthful state: as is proved by the known fact that the prudential duties, that is, those actions which are commanded by virtue because they are prescribed by prudence, brute animals fulfil by natural instinct.

5. The pleasure that accompanies or depends on a healthy and vigorous body, will be the consequence and reward of a temperate life and habits of active industry, whether this pleasure were or were not the chief or determining motive thereto.

6. Virtue may possibly add to the pleasure a good of another kind; a higher good, perhaps, than the worldly mind is capable of understanding; a spiritual complacency of which in your present sensualized state you can form no idea. It may add, I say, but it can not detract from it. Thus the reflected rays of the sun, that give light, distinction, and endless multiformity to the mind, give at the same time the pleasurable sensation of warmth to the body.

7. If, then, the time has not yet come for any thing higher, act on the maxim of seeking the most pleasure with the least pain: and, if only you do not seek where you yourself know it will not be found, this very pleasure and this freedom from the disquietude of pain, may produce in you a state of being directly and indirectly favorable to the germination and up-spring of a nobler seed.

THE OVERTHROW OF THE APOSTATE ANGELS.-[MILTON.] NOTE. It is earnestly enjoined upon the learner to study this extract from Milton, with reference not only to its grammatical construction and the striking figurative expressions with which it abounds, but also to the unsurpassed sublimity of the style and thoughts.

"Now when fair morn orient in heaven appear'd,

Up rose the victor angels, and to arms

The matin trumpet sung. In arms they stood

Of golden panoply, refulgent host,

Soon banded; others from the dawning hills

5

Look'd round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, Each quarter, to descry the distant foe,

Where lodg'd, or whither fled, or if for fight,
In motion or in halt. Him soon they met
Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow
But firm battalion. Back with speediest sail,
Zophiel, of cherubim the swiftest wing,
Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried:

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“Arm, warriors, arm for fight; the foe at hand

Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit
This day. Fear not his flight; so thick a cloud
He comes, and settled in his face I see

15

Sad resolution and secure. Let each

His adamantine coat gird well, and each

Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield,

20

Borne even or high; for this day will pour down,

If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower,

But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire.'

"So warn'd he them, aware themselves, and soon

In order, quit of all impediment ;
Instant without disturb they took alarm,
And onward moved embattled: when behold
Not distant far with heavy pace the foe
Approaching, gross and huge, in hollow cube

Training his devilish enginery, impaled
On every side with shadowing squadrons deep,
To hide the fraud. At interview both stood
Awhile; but suddenly at head appear'd
Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud :
"Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold,
That all may see who hate us, how we seek
Peace and composure, and with open breast
Stand ready to receive them, if they like
Our overture, and turn not back perverse:
But that I doubt; however, witness heaven,
Heaven witness thou anon, while we discharge
Freely our part. Ye who appointed stand,
Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch
What we propound, and loud that all may hear.'

"So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce
Had ended, when to right and left the front
Divided, and to either flank retir'd;
Which to our eyes discover'd, new and strange,
A triple mounted row of pillars laid

On wheels (for like to pillars most they seem'd,
Or hollow'd bodies made of oak or fir,
With branches lopt, in wood or mountain fell'd)
Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths
With hideous orifice gap'd on us wide,
Portending hollow truce. At each, behind,
A seraph stood, and in his hand a reed
Stood waving, tipt with fire: while we suspense
Collected stood within our thoughts amus'd;
Not long, for sudden all at once their reeds

Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied

With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame,

But soon obscur'd with smoke, all heaven appear'd,

From those deep-throated engines belch'd, whose roar
Embowell'd with outrageous noise the air,

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ANALYSIS AND PARSING.

And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul

Their devilish glut, chain'd thunderbolts and hail
Of iron globes; which, on the victor host
Levell'd, with such impetuous fury smote,

That whom they hit, none on their feet might stand,
Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell
By thousands, angel on archangel roll'd;

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The sooner for their arms; unarm'd they might
Have easily as spirits evaded swift

By quick contraction or remove; but now

Foul dissipation follow'd and forc'd rout;

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Nor serv'd it to relax their serried files.

What should they do? if on they rush'd, repulse
Repeated, and indecent overthrow

Doubled, would render them yet more despis'd,

And to their foes a laughter; for in view
Stood rank'd of seraphim another row,
In posture to displode their second tire

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Of thunder: back defeated to return

They worse abhorr'd. Satan beheld their plight,
And to his mates thus in derision call'd:

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"O friends! why come not on these victors proud?

Ere while they fierce were coming; and when we,

To entertain them fair with open front

And breast (what could we more?) propounded terms

Of composition, straight they changed their minds,
Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell,

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As they would dance; yet for a dance they seem'd
Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps
For joy of offer'd peace. But I suppose,
If our proposals once again were heard,
We should compel them to a quick result.'

"To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood: 'Leader! the terms we sent were terms of weight, Of hard contents, and full of force urg'd home,

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