mated figures will no longer be borne. They feem rant, and fuftian in the eyes of the fupercilious petitmaitre, whofe ideas never fwelled to the dignity of a metaphor. Wit, enfeebled reafon, and cold correctnefs take the lead. To all thefe changes a poet, be the turn of his genius what it may, muft, unavoidable conform.

effect fo often produced and bewailed before. I might, elfe, proč‹ed to fhew in what particular modes that luxury has operated. But its undeniable confequences are enough for my purpofe-and fome of its collateral effects I will mark out as co-operating, and accelerating the downfal of genuine poetry.

One of the greatest and most cha

"Is poetry, then, fo nearly connected with barbarity of manners?racteristic fymptoms of poetic geniWhat a thocking idea!-Let it then us is an innate love of unfophiftigo-It is well exchanged for the cated nature, amounting almoft eafe, gaiety, and fashionable delights to enthufiafm. This, never much. of the we live in."-But no:age the general tafte, is now become alPoetry is not thus allied to' favage moft entirely obfolete, and unfabarbarity. It is indiffolubly united fhionable. A young perfon that, to that happy medium between uncis early in life, dares to manifeft this vilized nature, and excefs of refine turn of mind, is in the utmost peril ment, which, it were worth all the of being totally given up as a very wifdom of politicians, and all the ge odd fellow;-one that, in the comnius of moralifts, to render lefs tran- mon phrafe, will" do himself no fitory and unstable. It is connected good." He does not love good comwith fimplicity of manners, true pany. The fociety of nature, and greatnefs of mind, true honour, and of the God of nature is not, it should contempt of fordid intereft, when op- feem, fit company for a rational bepofed to it-In fhort-with that ing-" But, is not nature, and its native energy of mind, which, vari- God to be fought, likewife, in the Dufly modified, is not only the cha- fociety of beings like himfelf;—crearacteristic of genius, but the parent turės who are his best and noblest of all the nobler virtues. work?" Yes-but it is, through our own perverfenefs, and the gradual influence of luxury, and fashion, nature, in general, perverted, diftorted, and depraved. No word, no air, no geflure of the body but what is regulated by art, copied from fuperior frivolity, or the dif gufting effect of a fort of autoniatous habit. By beings fuch as these a young perfon is foon laughed out of this romantic propenfity. He beholds every thing around him formed on a different model, to which by degrees he is obliged to conform; and devoted to, what are denominated more folid purfuits, to which he alfo, at laft, deems it neceffary to be attached.

To fay that we have flid, and are ftill fliding lower, beneath this hap py ftation, would look too like fplenetic melancholy; and, to proceed to prove it by examples, would feem a common-place fatire upon the times. I might fay, with the hiftorian*, that we were arrived at a period "when we can no longer bear either our vices, or their remedies." But this was a Roman hiftorian. Our age has adopted other notions. Our vices are, by the fophiftry of thofe most devoted to them, foftened down to venial errors, and their remedies would feem infupportable ruin."

But what are the chiefly-operating caufes of this declenfion, both in taste, and morals affect not the moralift. I might, otherwise, fay it must be luxury that has worked an

The effect of this in deadning genius need not be farther defcribed.

The prefent tone of converfation,

has ftill another study, perhaps the moft difficult of all to native ingenuity, by which alone he can render his acquirements of any ufe to himfelf, or others. A defire to oblige,

hift copied by the great from our more frivolous neighbours, and afterward aukwardly imitated by the inferior ranks, is inimical, not only to poetic excellence, but to excellence of every kind. That noble a difpofition to be pleased, are not fwelling and overflowing of the mind, fufficient. He muit acquire the meand heart, which we call Enthufiafm, chanical habits of address, the reignthe great origin of dignified virtue ing cant, the etiquette du jour, or in every age, cannot, in fuch fociety, he had better remain locked up in but be derided. It is the very op- his study. pofite of that contraction of intellect which fixes the attention wholly on the minutiae of life, and enervates it for any great or useful purpose. Before converfation became a feparate science, we contented ourselves with thofe plain civilities of the heart, that every well-disposed heart could cafily pay.

A man ftored with all the learning of paft ages;-endued with energy of mind to put thofe ftores into motion, and with gentlenefs and benevolence of foul, now finds he

Thus, were their effects more fully traced, fhould we find the narrowminded Genius of Commerce, and his attendant Luxury acting, on one hand, on our manners;-the cold, precife, formal, philofophic spirit *, improperly applied to our literary productions, on the other ;-with encreafing Effeminacy, and Indolence, as occafional auxiliaries:-all furrounding the poor Mufe, and either dreffing her out in their own frittered, unbecoming trappings, or chil ling her into total filence.

ON SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE PARADISE LOST OF MILTON,

SOME obfervations on a few of to inveft him on moft occafions with

the most remarkable paffages in the Paradife Loft may, not only amufe, but afford opportunity for minuter criticism; which, in certain inftances, is not without its ufe.

Milton may be faid to have interwoven his whole creed, theological, philofophical, and moral, into this great work. Of the former I fhall fay little, but that his doctrines are entirely confonant with, and often clofely copied from, the holy writings. As thefe, in fpeaking of the Deity, have, for evident reafons, conformed, as much as poffible, to the limited conceptions of man, fo, likewife, has Milton been content

the properties of humanity. What, in fact, can a man defcribe but the effects of human paflions, or even conceive but human ideas!-If, moreover, as we were inftructed, man was created in the image of God, the propriety of afcribing to the Deity a more exalted fpecies of humanity is incontrovertible.-If it be afked,-Why Milton chofe to exhibit the Supreme Being, at all; or why he did not for his fentiments adopt that comprehentive and fublime kind of brevity, of which the fcriptures have given fo excellent an example?-the answer would, I confefs, be more difficult to find.

Milton's

*The effect of this, untouched on here, would require a much more elaborate effay, itself.

Both the Prophets, and the Pfalmift reprefent the Supreme Being, as angry; -as pleased ;—as taking vengeance on his foes, and exulting in their overthrow.

Milton's ideas of fpirituality might appear very fingular, if the following remarkable paffage could be fuppofed to convey his real ideas on the fubject. But the poet is doubtlefs obliged to inveft fpirit with a body, as occafion ferves. His angels are, (as has been obferved,) fometimes fpirit, and fometimes matter. But one thing may be noticed in honour of his confiftency, which, I believe, has not before been mentioned, that no paffage can be adduced to prove that he has afcribed to them the properties of both, in one and the fame action. Of this impropriety instances are not uncommon in fome other poets. If it be allowable for a writer, to inveft spirituality with a material body, at all, it, certainly, is equally fo, for him to vary these so as best to fuit his purpose. As in heaven, it were abfurd to introduce matter, (which, however, Milton has unhappily done in his battle of angels, which is, indeed, "wild work in heaven,") fo without it on earth, all imagery, and, almost, every other poetical requifite would entirely have been loft.

"So down they sat, And to their viands fell; nor feemingly The angel, nor in mift, the common glofs

Of Theologians; but with keen dispatch
Of real hunger, and concoctive heat
To tranfubftantiate what redounds,
tranfpiręs

Through pirits with ease; nor wonder;
if by fire

Of footy coal th' empyric alchemist
Can turn, or hold it poffible to turn,
Metals of droffieft ore to perfect gold
As from the mine."-

B. v. 433.

The illuftration of the alchemist, with which this paffage ends, is, if

rigorously examined, liable to an ob
jection. It is not by tranfubftantia-
tion that animal digeftion is perform-
ed; which, by the terms,
"real
hunger, and concoctive heat," the
poet, evidently, has in his eye; but
by decompofition, and gradual affimila-
tion. The chemifts pretended it was
abfolute tranfmutation, or change cf
fubftance, which produced gold from
inferior metals. But the refemblance
is perfect enough to ferve the pur-
poses of a poet, whose allufions are,
oftener, intended to amuse than to il
luftrate.

The Paradife Loft exhibits the philofophic opinions, likewife, of its author, as well as his ideas on almost every fpecies of human learning. The famous fpeech of Raphael, in the eighth book, not only contains ą very proper reproof of the vain curiofity of man, ever striving at things beyond its reach, and neglecting those of real ufe; (which, by the way, comes oddly, enough, from our author,) but, alfo, a kind of prophetic furvey of the various aftronomic fyftems that have fucceeded, and are ftill fucceeding each other. The angel, then, feems to flide, in a very beautiful and majestic manner, into fyftem, in fome lines that can harda curfory view of the Copernican ly be excelled. Their expreffions relating to the heavenly bodies, and their ftill folemn motion through infinite space, crowd, at once, the mind with all the grandeur, and sublimity of aftronomic fpeculation.

"What is the fun But centre to the world, and other stars By his attractive virtue and their own Incited, dance about him various rounds? Their wandering courfe now high, now low, then hid,

Progreffive, retrograde, or fianding still,

In

*It is curious to obferve, that while Milton is borrowing words from other languages, fome of which, as debell,' &c. have never been adopted by other writers, he, in certain inftances, compenfates his native tongue, by adopting its very lowe

idioms.

his alimental recompence, and, as the poet tells us, in terms not lefs unpoétical, than unphilofophical :

"At even

Sups with the ocean.'

Though, as I have before obferved, a contufion of matter, and spirit may be allowed to a poet, who, occafionally, treats of things "beyond the vifible diurnal sphere;" yet, by a strict attention to philofophic probability in other refpects, no opportunities of poetry could be loft, and much intereft might be gained. The two lines that follow are very remarkable for an attention to aftronomic truth, in the first of them, and for a moft fingular deviation from it, in the latter.

"Now had Night measured with her Shadowy cone

Half way up, bill this vaft fublunar

vault.

2

become habitable +; for, even the poles, by the well-known law of refraction, being perpetually enlightened, the continuance of the fun's heat would, in great measure, compensate for the obliquity of his rays. In this refpect, as well as in fome others, Jupiter, as has been often remarked, feems the uncurfed, unfallen planet.

But it is the fate of this noble idea

to be, like most other human excel-
lencies, fomewhat obfcured by its re-
verfe. It is not the unneceffary dif-
of the countries about the fouth pole,
play of learning, in the enumeration
that fo much offends. This might
be allowed to the digreffive copiouf
ing, thus naturally, for the fun's de-
nefs of the epic. But after account-
viation from the direct path of the

equator, and fhowing that the motion
which caufed this deviation proceed-
ed not from the fun, but from the
earth, the representing that luminary
as turning afide with horror from
Adam's offence, as from the
66 Thy-
eftean banquet," is a little incongru-
ous and puerile.

Many other inftances of fimilar impropriety, (which, I am, however, well aware all readers will not allow to be fuch,) might be found in Milton; were it pleafing to hunt after faults of fo little importance to a po litical

It is very fingular, that Bentley, who has fallen foul on fome of the finest paffages in the Paradife Loft, approves of, and juftifies this expreffion.

*Dr Keil, in anfwer to Burnet, has (not convincingly, I think,) proved the contrary. But why fhould we fuppofe Jupiter, fo much the nobleft of the planets, has not his axis in the beft direction poffible?-And does it not follow, from this hypothefis, that the planets nearer to the fun than the earth is, ought to have their axis till more oblique? Which is not likely; nor has, yet, appeared, from obfervation, to be the fact.