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I HAVE seen, in the works of a modern philosopher, a map of the spots in the sun. My last paper of the faults and blemishes in Milton's Paradise Lost may be considered as a piece of the same nature. To pursue the allusion: as it is observed; 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 proposed 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 heav'nly 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 sentiment, as I think the transition to the fable is exquisitely beautiful and natural.

The nine days' astonishment, in which the angels Jay 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.

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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
Thro' 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 animiral, were but a wand)
He walk'd with, to support uneasy steps
Over the burning mari-

To which we may add his call to the fallen angels that lay plunged and stupified in the sea of tire:

'He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep
Of hell resounded.'

But there is no single passage in the whole poem
worked up to a greater sublimity, than that where-
in his person is described in those celebrated lines:
- He, above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower, &c.'

character, and suitable to a created being of the
His sentiments are every way answerable to his
most exalted and most depraved nature. Such is
torments:
that in which he takes possession of his place of

Hail horrors! hail
Infernal world and thou profoundest bell
Receive thy new possessor, one who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.'
And afterwards:

Here at least

We shall be free! th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy; will not drive us bence:
Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, tho' in bell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.'

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.

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 Nor must I here omit that beautiful circumstance his speeches in the poem. The whole part of this of his bursting out in tears, upon his survey of those great enemy of mankind is filled with such inci-innumerable spirits whom he had involved in the dents as are very apt to raise and terrify the read-same guilt and ruin with himself: er'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 bead uplift above the wave, and eyes

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 score.
Tears, such as angels weep, burst fortà

The catalogue of evil spirits has abundance of learning in it, and a very agreeable turn of poetry,

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-
loch and Belial prepare the reader's mind for their
respective speeches and behaviour in the second
and sixth book. The account of Thammuz is finely
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
Infected Sion's daughters with like heat,
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch
Ezekiel saw; when, by the vision led,
His eye 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, so 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 in

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The character of Mammon, and the description of the Pandæmonium, 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 de scription of Azazel's stature, and the infernal stand ard 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 shout of the whole host of fallen angels when 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.'

The review which the leader makes of his infernal army:

He thro' 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 Pandemonium

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 crescents, 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

troduced with great judgment, to make way for things or persons, he never quits his simile till it several surprising accidents in the sequel of the rises to some very great idea, which is often fopoem. There follows one at the very end of the reign to the occasion that gave birth to it. The first book, which is what the French critics call resemblance does not, perhaps, last above a line or marvellous, but at the same time probable by reatwo, but the poet runs on with the hint till he has son of the passage last mentioned. As soon as the raised out of it some glorious image or sentiment, infernal palace is finished, we are told the multi-proper to inflame the mind of the reader, and to tude 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. But it is the poet's refinement upon this thought which I most admire, and which is indeed very 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 preserved 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
la close recess and secret conclave sat,
A thousand demi-gods on golden seats,
Frequent and full-

give it that sublime kind of entertainment, which who are acquainted with Homer's and Virgil's way is suitable to the nature of an heroic poem. Those of structure in Milton's similitudes. I am the more of writing, cannot but be pleased with this kind particular on this head, because ignorant readers, and little turns of wit, which are so much in vogue who have formed their taste upon the quaint similes, among modern poets, cannot relish these beauties which are of a much higher nature, and are therefore apt to censure Milton's comparisons, in which they do not see any 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 Mon

sieur 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 frequently disengaging him from too painful an attention to the principal subject, and by leading him into 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 our eyes, of such circumstances as we should not otherwise have observed. To this he adds, as a maxim universally acknowledged, that it is not necessary in poetry 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 particular 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.

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A latent fire preys on his fev'rish 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.

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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 which will tell my mistress
from these circumstances, that it is I who writ this
for her reading, if you will please to insert it.
There is not a downright enmity, but a great cold-
ness between our parents; so that if either of us
declared any kind sentiments for each other, her
friends would be very backward to lay an obliga
tion upon our family, and mine to receive it from
hers. Under these delicate circumstances, it is no
easy matter to act with safety. I 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, stationer, in the centre of Lincoln's-Inn-Fields,

'SHEWETH,

THAT your petitioner, and his forefathers, have been sellers of books for time immemorial: that your petitioner's ancestor, Cronch-back Title-page, was the first of that vocation in Britain; who, keeping his station (in fair weather) at the corner of Lothbury, was, by way of eminency, called "The Stationer," a name which from him all socceeding 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 wat ship's custom, and hopes you never had reason to complain of your pennyworths: that particulari he sold you your first Lilly's Grammar, and at the same time a Wit's Commonwealth, almost as good as new: moreover, that your first rudimental essay in spectatorship were made in your petitioner's shop, were you often practised for hours together, sometimes on his books upon the rails, sometimes on the little hieroglyphics, either gilt, silvered, er plain, which the Egyptian woman on the other sade of the shop had wrought in gingerbread, and sometimes on the English youth, who in sundry places there were exercising themselves in the traditional sports of the field.

'From these considerations it is, that your pettioner is encouraged to apply himself to you, and to proceed humbly to acquaint your worship, that he has certain intelligence that you receive great numbers 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.'

bours,

، TO THE SPECTATOR.

may be met with in the Daily Courant of last Friday, in the following words, translated from the Gazette of Amsterdam:

Paris, February 12. ‘It is confirmed, that the king has resolved to establish a new academy for politics, of which the Marquis de Torcy, minister and secretary of state, is to be protector. Six academicians are to be chosen, endowed with proper 'The humble petition of Bartholomew Ladylove, talents for beginning to form this academy, into of Round-court, in the parish of St. Martin's, which no person is to be admitted under twentyin-the-Fields, in behalf of himself and neigh-five years of age; they must likewise have each an estate of two thousand livres a year, either in possession, or to come to them by inheritance. The king will allow to each a pension of a thousand livres. They are likewise to have able masters to teach them the necessary sciences, and to instruct them in all the treaties of peace, alliance, and others, which have been made in several ages past. These members are to meet twice a week at the Louvre. From this seminary are to be chosen secretaries to embassies, who by degrees may advance to higher employments.'

'SHEWETH,

'THAT your petitioners have with great industry and application, arrived at the most exact art of invitation or entreaty: that by a beseeching air, and persuasive address, they have for many years last past peaceably drawn in every tenth passenger, whether they intended or not to call at their shops, to come in and buy; and from that softness of behaviour have arrived, among tradesmen, at the gentle appellation of “ The Fawners."

"That there have of late set up amongst us, certain persons from Monmouth-street and Long-lane, who, by the strength of their arms, and loudness of their throats, draw off the regard of all passengers from your said petitioners; from which violence they are distinguished by the name of "The Worriers."

Cardinal Richelieu's politics made France the terror of Europe. The statesmen who have appeared in that nation of late years have, on the contrary, rendered it either the pity or contempt of its neighbours. The Cardinal erected that famous academy which has carried all the parts of polite learning to the greatest height. His That while your petitioners stand ready to re-chief design in that institution was, to divert the ceive passengers with a submissive bow, and repeat with a gentle voice, “Ladies, what do you want? pray look in here:" the Worriers reach out their hands at pistol-shot, and seize the customers at armslength.

That while the Fawners strain and relax the muscles of their faces, in making distinction between a spinster in a coloured scarf and an handmaid in a straw hat, the Worriers use the same roughness to both, and prevail upon the easiness of the passengers, 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 Roundcourt may remain a receptacle for buyers of a more soft education.

And your petitioners, &c.'

The petition of the New-Exchange, concerning the arts of buying and selling, and particularly valuing goods by the complexion of the seller, will be considered on another occasion.

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men of genius from meddling with politics, a province in which he did not care to have any one else interfere with him. On the contrary, the Marquis de Torcy seems resolved to make several young men in France as wise as himself, and is therefore taken up at present in establishing a nursery of | statesmen.

Some private letters add, that there will also be erected a seminary of petticoat politicians, who are to be brought up at the feet of Madame de Maintenon, and to be dispatched into foreign courts upon any emergencies of state; but as the news of this last project has not been yet confirmed, I shall take no further notice of it.

Several of my readers may doubtless remember that upon the conclusion of the last war, which had been carried on so successfully by the enemy, their generals were many of them transformed into ambassadors; but the conduct of those who have commanded in the present war, has, it seems, brought so little honour and advantage to their great monarch, that he is resolved to trust his affairs no longer in the hands of those military gen

tlemen.

The regulations of this new academy very much deserve our attention. The students are to have in possession or reversion an estate of two thousand

No 305. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1711-12. French livres per annum, which, as the present

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exchange runs, will amount to at least one hundred and twenty-six pounds English. This, with the royal allowance of a thousand livres, will enable them to find themselves in coffee and snuff; not to mention newspapers, pens and ink, wax and wafers, with the like necessaries for politicians.

A man must be at least five-and-twenty before he can be initiated into the mysteries of this academy, though there is no question, but many grave persons of a much more advanced age, who have been constant readers of the Paris Gazette, will be glad to begin the world anew, and enter themselves upon this list of politicians.

The society of these bopeful young gentlemen

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This artist is to teach them how to nod judiciously, to shrug up their shoulders in a dubious case, to connive with either eye; and, in a word, the whole practice of political grimace.

The third is a sort of language-master, who is to instruct them in the style proper for a minister in his ordinary discourse. And to the end that this college of statesmen may be thoroughly practised in the political style, they are to make use of it in their common conversations, before they are employed either in foreign or domestic affairs. If one of them asks another, what o'clock it is, the other is to answer him indirectly, and if possible, to turn off the question. If he is desired to change a louis d'or, he must beg time to consider of it. If it be inquired of him, whether the king is at Versailles or Marly, he must answer in a whisper. If he be asked the news of the late Gazette, or the subject of a proclamation, he is to reply, that he has not yet read it; or if he does not care for explaining himself so far, he needs only draw his brow up in wrinkles, or elevate the left shoulder.

The fourth professor is to teach the whole art of political characters and hieroglyphics; and to the end that they may be perfect also in this practice, they are not to send a note to one another (though it be but to borrow a Tacitus or a Machiavel) which is not written in cipher.

Their fifth professor, it is thought, will be chosen out of the society of Jesuits, and is to be well read in the controversies of probable doctrines, mental reservation, and the rights of princes. This learned man is to instruct them in the grammar, syntax, and construing part of Treaty Latin; how to distinguish between the spirit and the letter, and likewise demonstrate how the same form of words may lay an obligation upon any prince in Europe, different from that which it lays upon his most Christian majesty. He is likewise to teach them the art of finding flaws, loop-holes, and evasions, in the most solemn compacts, and particularly a great rabbinical secret, revived of late years by the fraternity of Jesuits, namely, that contradictory interpretations of the same article may both of them be true and valid.

When our statesmen are sufficiently improved by these several instructors, they are to receive their last polishing from one who is to act among them as master of the ceremonies. This gentleman is to give them lectures upon the important points of the elbow-chair and the stair-head, to instruct them in the different situations of the right hand, and to furnish them with bows and inclinations of all sizes, measures, and proportions. In short, this professor is to give the society their stiffening, and infuse into their manners that beautiful political starch, which may qualify them for levees, conferences, visits, and make them shine in what vulgar minds are apt to look upon as trifles.

I have not yet heard any further particulars, which are to be observed in this society of un fledged statesmen; but I must confess, had I a son of five-and-twenty, that should take it into his head at that age to set up for a politician, I think I should go near to disinherit him for a blockhead. Besides, I should be apprehensive lest the same arts which are to enable him to negociate between potentates, might a little infect his ordinary behaviour between man and man. There is no ques. tion but these young Machiavels will, in a little time, turn their college upside down with plots and stratagems, and lay as many schemes to circumvent one another in a frog or a sallad, as they may hereafter put in practice to over-reach a neighbouring prince or state.

We are told, that the Spartans, though they pu nished theft in the young men when it was discovered, looked upon it as honourable if it succeeded. Provided the conveyance was clean and unsuspected, a youth might afterwards boast of it. This, say the historians, was to keep them sharp, and to hinder them from being imposed upon, either in their public or private negociations. Whether any such relaxations of morality, such little jenz d'esprit, ought not to be allowed in this intended seminary of politicians, I shall leave to the wisdom of their founder,

In the mean time, we have fair warning given us by this doughty body of statesmen: and as Sylla saw many Marius's in Cæsar, so I think we may discover many Torcys in this college of acade micians. Whatever we think of ourselves, I am afraid neither our Smyrna nor St. James's will be a match for it. Our coffee-houses are, indeed, very good institutions; but whether or no these our Bri tish schools of politics may furnish out as able envoys and secretaries as an academy that is set apart for that purpose, will deserve our serious consideration, especially if we remember that our country is more famous for producing men of integrity than statesmen: and that, on the contrary, French truth and British policy make a conspicuous figure in Nothing; as the Earl of Rochester has very well observed in his admirable poem upon that barres subject.

ADDISON.

L.

N° 306, WEDNESDAY, FEB. 20, 1711-12,

Qua forma, ut se tibi semper Imputet?

JUV. Sat. vi. ver. 177. What beauty, or what chastity, can bear So great a price, if stately and severe She still insults?

MR. SPECTATOR,

DRYDEN.

"I WRITE this to communicate to you a misfortune which frequently happens, and therefore deserves a consolatory discourse on the subject. I was within this half year in the possession of as much beauty and as many lovers as any young lady in England. But my admirers have left me, and I cannot complain of their behaviour. I have within that time had the small-pox: and this face, which (according to many amorous epistles which I have by me) was the seat of all that is beautiful in woman, is now disfigured with scars. It goes to the very soul of me to speak what I really think of my face; and though I think I did not over-rate my beauty while I had it, it has extremely advanced in its value with me, now it is lost. There

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