7 TUE PARADISE LOST BY JOHN MILTON WITH NOTES MPLANATORY AND CRITICAL. ZDITEO BT REV. JAMES ROBERT BOYD, Mti.mv wliosc genius had angelic AIM fed on manna. COWPKR. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY A. S. BARNES & CO CINCINNATI: II. W. DERBY & CO. Entered econling to Act of ("onfrreit. in MM veir 1880, by BAKER AND 8CIMBNER. hi the < leiVt Office of the Oittnct Court of the United Mm* for the Southern District of New York. C. W. BENEDICT, Sttreotypi'* tOl William it N T STACK ANNEX REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS AMERICAN EDITION. PARADISE LOST is, by common consent, pronounced to be a work of transcendent genius and taste. It takes rank with the Iliad of Homer, and with the ^Eneid of Virgil, as an Epic of incomparable merit. Dry- den was by no means extravagant in the praise whfch he bestowed upon it in his well-known lines ; " Three poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn : The first in loftiness of thought surpassed ; The next in majesty ; in both the last. The force of nature could no further go : To make a third, she joined the other two." Its praise is often on the lips of every man endowed with the most moderate literary qualifications : but the work has been read by com- paratively few persons. How few even of educated men can affirm that they have so read and understood it, as to appreciate all its parts ? How does this happen ? Is the poem considered unworthy of their most careful perusal 1 Is it not inviting to the intellect, the imagina- tion, and the sensibilities? Is it not acknowledged to be superior to any other poetic composition, the Hebrew writings only excepted, to whose lofty strains of inspired song the blind bard of London was s greatly indebted for his own subordinate inspiration ? If inquiry should extensively be made, it will be ascertained that Paradise Lost, is but little read, less understood, and still less appre- ciated ; though it may be found on the shelves of almost every library, or upon the parlor table of almost every dwelling. Every school boy, 4 REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. and every school girl has read some beautiful extracts from it, and lias heard it extolled as an unrivalled production ; and this is about all that is usually learned in regard to it, or appreciated. The question returns, and it is one of some literary interest, how is this treatment of the Paradise Lost to be accounted for? To this inquiry the following ob- servations will, it is hoped, be considered appropriate and satisfactory. It is pre-eminently a learned work ; and has been well denominated " a book of universal knowledge. 11 In its naked form, in its bare text, it can be understood and appreciated by none but highly educated per- sons. The perusal of it cannot fail to be attended with a vivid im- pression of its great author's prodigious learning, and of the immense stores which he brought into use in its preparation. As one of his editors, (Sir Egerton Brydges,) remarks, " his great poems require such a stretch of mind in the reader, as to be almost painful. The most amazing copiousness of learning is sublimated into all his concep- tions and descriptions. His learning never oppressed his imagination ; and his imagination never obliterated or dimmed his learning; but even these would not have done without the addition of a great heart, and a pure and lofty mind. The poem is one which could not have been produced solely by the genius of Milton, without the addition of an equal extent and depth of learning, and an equal labor of reflection. It has always a great compression. Perhaps its perpetual allusion to all past literature and history were sometimes carried a little too far for the popular reader; and the latinised style requires to be read with the attention due to an ancient classic. 1 ' To read it, therefore, intelli- gently and advantageously, no small acquaintance is needed with classical and various learning. While large portions of the poem are sufficiently lucid for the com- prehension of ordinary reader^ there is frequently introduced an oh- fcure paragraph, sentence, clause, or word ; which serves to break up the continuity of the poem in the reader's mind, to obstruct his pro- gress, to apprise him of his own ignorance or obtuseness, and thus to create no small degree of dissatisfaction. The obscurity arises, in some cases, from the highly learned character of the allusions to an- cient history and mythology ; in other cases, from great inversion of REASON'S FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. 5 style, from the use of Latin and Greek forms of expression ; from pe- culiar modes of spelling; from references to exploded and unphiloso- phical notions in astronomy, chemistry, geology, and philosophy, with which but few persons are familiar. Besides all this, it has been truly observed by the writer before quoted, that " Milton has a language of his own; I may say invented by himself. It is somewhat hard but it is all sincere : it is not ver- nacular, but has a latinised cast, which requires a little time to recon- cile a reader to it. It is best fitted to convey his own magnificent ideas ; its very learnedness impresses us with respect. It moves with a gigantic step : it does not flow like Shakspeare's style, nor dance like Spenser's. Now and then there are transpositions somewhat alien to the character of the English language, which is not well cal- culated for transposition ; bul in Milton this is perhaps a merit, be- cause his lines are pregnant with deep thought and sublime imagery which requires us to dwell upon them, and contemplate them over and over. He ought never to be read rapidly." Such being some of the characteristics of Paradise Lost, it i& ot difficult to account for its general neglect, and for the scanty satisfac- tion experienced by most persons in the attempt to read it. Much of it. as we have remarked, cannot be understood; it abounds in too many passages that convey to none but the learned any etea,i idea: thus the common reader is repelled, and the sublimities Bind beag.t.ie^ of this incomparable poem are known, ouly as. echoes irp.m, \\}$ pages of criticism, of course inadequately. Not long since even a well-educa,te4 and popular preacher was asked how be managed in reading Paradise Lost ? His honest and truthful answer was, that he skipped over the hard places, and read the easier ; that be did not pretend fully to understand, or to appreciate (he entire poem ; but admitted that not a few passages were not far from being a dead letter to him, requiring for their just interpretation more research and study than he was willing or able to bestow. The fact undoubtedly is, that since a poem is addressed chiefly to the irnr agination and the sensibilities; since it is read with a view to plea- surable excitement, and not taken up as a production to be severely 6 REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. studied ; since a demand for mental labor and research interferes with the entertainment anticipated, in most cases the Paradise Lost is, on this account, laid aside, though possessing the highest literary merit, for poems of an inferior cast, but of easier interpretation. It is possible also that the pious spirit which animates the entire poem, and the theological descriptions which abound in several of the Books, may, to the mass of readers, give it a repulsive aspect, and cause them, though unwisely, to prefer other productions in which these elements are not found. To the causes now enumerated, rather than to those assigned by Dr. Johnson may be referred the result which he thus describes: "Para- dise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires and lays down, and forgets to take up again. None ever wished it longer than it is. Its perusal i a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for in- struction, retire harassed and overburdened, and look elsewhere for recreation : we desert our master, and seek for companions." But if there no remedy for this neglectful treatment of the finest poeti- cal composition in our language ? May not something be done to pre- pare American readers generally to appreciate it, and, in the perusal, to gratify their intellects and regale their fancy, among its grandeurs and beauties, and also among its learned allusions, and scientific infor- mations 1 The attainment of this important end is the design of the present edition : it is therefore furnished with a large body of notes ; with notes sufficiently numerous and full, it is presumed, to clear up the ob- scurities to which we have referred ; to place the unlearned reader, so far as the possession of the information requisite to understand the poem is concerned, on the same level with the learned; and to direct attention to the parts most deserving of admiration, and to the grounds upon which they should be admired. The editions hitherto published in this country, it is believed, are either destitute of notes, or the notes are altogether too few and too brief to afford the aid which is generally required. About half a cen'ury after the publication of the Paradise Lost, its reputation was much advanced by a series of papers which came REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. 7 out weekly in the celebrated Spectator, from the graceful pen ot Addison. "These," as Hallam justly remarks, "were perhaps superior to any criticisms that had been written in our language, and we must always acknowledge their good sense, their judiciousness, and the vast service they did to our literature, in setting the Paradise Lost on its proper level." But modern periodicals, and modern essays are fast crowding out the once familiar volumes of that excel- lent British classic ; and those once famous criticisms are now seldom met with, so that modern readers, with rare exceptions, derive from them no benefit in the reading of the Paradise Lost. The Editor has evinced his own high sense of their value, and has, moreover, rendered them far more available to the illustration of the poem, than they are, as found in the Spectator, by selecting such criti- cisms as appeared to him to possess the highest merit, and distributing them in the form of notes, to the several parts of the poem which they serve to illustrate and adorn. After this labor had been performed, however, and a principal part of the other notes had been prepared, it was ascertained with some surprise, on procuring a London copy of Bp. Newton's edition of Milton, now quite scarce, that the same course had a century ago been pursued by him ; though the same pains had not been taken by Newton to distribute in detail to every part of the poem the criticisms of Addison. Besides this, he introduced them entire, and thus occupied his pages with much matter quite inferior to that which has been provided, in this edition, from recent sources. The notes of the present edition will be found to embrace, besides much other matter, all that is excellent and worth preservation in those of Newton, Todd, Brydges, and Stebbing; comprehending also some of the richest treasures of learned and ingenious criticism which the Paradise Lost has called into existence, and which have hithertc been scattered through the pages of many volumes of Reviews and miscellaneous literature : and these have been so arranged as to illus- trate the several parts of the poem to which tbey relate. It was not deemed important to occupy space in the discussion of certain questions, more curious than useful or generally interesting, relating to some earlier authors, to whom it has been alleged that Mil- 6 REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. ton was greatly indebted for the plan and some prominent features of the Paradise Lost. Yet it has been a pleasant, and more profitable task, to discover by personal research, and by aid of the research of others, those parts of classical authors a familiar acquaintance with which has enabled the learned poet so wonderfully to enrich and adorn bis beautiful production. These classic gems of thought and expres- sion hare been introduced in the notes, only for the gratification of those persons who are able to appreciate the language of the Roman and Grecian poets ; and who may have a taste for observing the coin- cidences between their language and that of the great master of Eng- lish verse. Not long before the composition of Paradise Lost, Milton thus epeaks of the qualifications which he regarded as requisite and which he hoped to employ in preparing it: "A work not to be raised from the heat of youth or the vapors of wine ; nor to be obtained of dame Memory and her siren daughters, but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit, whocan enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases. To this must be added industrious and select reading, steady observation, insight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs/' This, I am convinced,' says Sir E. B. already quoted, ' is the true origin of Paradise Lost. Shakspeare's originality might be still more impugned, if an anticipation of hints and similar stories were to be taken as proof of plagiarism. In many of the dramatist's most beauti- ful plays the whole tale is borrowed ; but Shakspeare and Milton turn brass into gold. This sort of passage hunting has been carried a great deal too far, and has disgusted and repelled the reader of feeling and taste. The novelty is in the raciness, the life, the force, the just association, the probability, the truth ; that which is striking because it is extravagant is a false novelty. He who borrows to make patches is a plagiarist ; but what patch is there in Milton ? All is inter- woven and forms part of one web. No doubt the holy bard was al- ways intent upon sacred poetry, and drew his principal inspirations from Scripture. This distinguishes his style and spirit from all other REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. 9 poets ; and gives him a solemnity which has not been surpassed, save > in the book whence welled that inspiration.' The Editor is fully aware of the boldness of the attempt to furnish a full commentary on such a poem as this : he is also painfully sensi- ble that much higher qualifications than he possesses could profitably and honorably be laid out in the undertaking. He has long wondered, and regretted, that such an edition of Paradise Lost, as the American public needs, has not been furnished ; and in the absence of a better, he offers this edition, as adapted, in his humble opinion, to render a most desirable and profitable service to the reading community, while it may contribute, as he hopes, to bring this poem from the state of unmerited neglect into which it has fallen, and cause it to be more generally read and studied, for the cultivation of a literary taste and for the expansion of the intellectual and moral powers. Ours is an age in which the best writings of the seventeenth century have been generally republished, and thus have been put upon a new career of fame and usefulness. Shakspeare has had, for more than half a century, his learned annotators, without whose aid large por- tions of his plays would be nearly unintelligible. He has been hon- ored with public lectures also, to illustrate his genius, and to bring to view his masterly sketches of the human heart and manners. There have recently started up public readers also, by whose popular exertions he has been brought into more general admiration. It seems to be full time that a higher appreciation of the great epic of Milton than has hitherto prevailed among us, and that a more extended use- fulness also, should be secured to it, by the publication of critical and explanatory notes, such a^the circumstances of the reading class ob- viously require. Ever valuable will it be, for its varied learning, for its exquisit beauties of poetic diction and measure ; for its classical, scientific and scriptural allusions; for its graphic delineations of the domestic state and its duties; for its adaptation, when duly explained and understood, to enlarge the intellect, to entertain the imagination, to improve lite- rary taste, and cultivate the social and the devout affections ; for its grand account of creation, providence, and redemption, embracing a 10 REASONS FOR PREPARING THIS EDITION. most beautiful narrative and explanation of some of the most interest ing events connected with the history of our race. Nor should men- tion be omitted, of those excellent counsels, and maxims of conduct which it so frequently suggests, conveyed in language too appropriate and beautiful to be easily erased from the memory, or carelessly disre- garded. Tn conclusion, we may confidently adopt the words of Brydges, who has said, that to study Milton's poetry is not merely the delight of every accomplished mind, but it is a duty. He who is not conversant with it, cannot conceive how far the genius of the Muse can go. The bard, whatever might have been his inborn genius, could never have at- tained this height of argument and execution but by a life of laborious and holy preparation ; a constant conversance with the ideas sug- gested by the sacred writings; the habitual resolve to lift his mind and heart above earthly thoughts ; the incessant exercise of all the strongest faculties of the intellect ; retirement, temperance, courage, hope, faith. He had all the aids of learning; all the fruit of all the wisdom of ages ; all the effect of all that poetic genius, and all that philosophy had achieved. His poetry is pure majesty; the sober strength, the wisdom from above, that instructs and awes. It speaks as an oracle ; not with a mortal voice. And indeed, it will not be too much to say, that of all uninspired writings, Milton's are the most worthy of profound study by all minds which would know the crea- tiveness, the splendor, the learning, the eloquence, the wisdom, to which the human intellect can attain. NOT*. The names of the authors most frequently quoted will be indi- cted simply by the initial letters : those authors are Addison, Newton, E. Brydges, Todd, Hume, Kitto, Richardson, Thyer, Stebbing and Pearce. The Introductory Remarks upon the several Books are, generally, those found in Sir Egerton Brydges' edition, with the omission of such remarks as were leemed either incorrect, or of little interest and importance. BOOK I. THE ARGUMENT. THIS I irst Book proposes, first, in brief, the whole subject, Man's disobe- dience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he was placed : then touches the prime cause of his fall, the Serpent, or rather Satan in the ser- pent ; who revolting from God, and drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was, by the command of God, driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great deep. Which action passed over, the poem hastens into the midst of things, presenting Satan with his Angels now fallen into Hell, described here, not in the centre (for Heaven and Earth may be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed) but in a place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos : here Satan with his Angels lying on the burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers, as from confu- sion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him ; they confer of their miserable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same manner confounded : they rise ; their numbers, array of battle, their chief leaders named, according to the idols known afterward in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining Heaven, but tells them lastly of a new world and new kind of creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy or report in Heaven ; for that Angels were long before this visible creation, was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To fipd out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What his associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace of Satan, rises, sud- denly built out of the deep : the infernal peers there sit in council. BOOK I. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. THIS Book on the whole is so perfect from beginning to end, that it would be difficult to find a single superfluous passage. The matter, the illustra- tions and the allusions, are historically, naturally, and philosophically true. The learning is of every extent and diversity ; recondite, classical, scientific, antiquarian. But the most surprising thing is, the manner in which he vivi- fies every topic he touches : he gives life and picturesqueness to the driest catalogue of buried names, personal or geographical. They who bring no learning, yet feel themselves charmed by sounds and epithets which give a vague pleasure, and stir up the imagination into an indistinct emotion. Poetical imagination is the power, not only of conceiving, but of creating embodied illustrations of abstract truths, which are sublime, or pathetic, or beautiful ; but those ideas, which Milton has embodied, no imagination but his own would have dared to attempt ; none else would have risen ' to the height of this great argument.' Every one else would have fallen short of it, and degraded it. Among the miraculous acquirements of Milton, was his deep and familial intimacy with all classical and all chivalrous literature ; the amalgamation in his mind of all the philosophy and all the sublime and ornamental literature of the ancients, and all the abstruse, the laborious, the immature learning of those who again drew off* the mantle of time from the ancient treasures ol genius, and mingled with thorn their own crude conceptions and fantastic theories. He extracted from this mine all that would aid the imagination without shocking the reason. He never rejected philosophy ; but where it was fabulous, only offered it as ornament. In Milton's language though there is internal force and splendor, there is outward plainness. Common readers think thai it sounds and looks like prow?. This is one of its attractions; while all that is stilted, and decorated, and affected, soon fatigues and satiates. Johnson says that " an inconvenience of Milton's design is, that it requires th description of what cannot be described, the agency of spirits. He saw BOOK I. 13 that immateriality suppHed no images, and that he could not show angels acting but by instruments of action : he therefore invested them with form and matter. This, being necessary, was therefore defensible, and he should have secured the consistency of his system by keeping immateriality out of sight, and enticing his reader to drop it from his thoughts." Surely this was quite impossible, for the reason which Johnson himself has given. The im- agination, by its natural tendencies, always embodies spirit. Poetry deals in pictures, though not exclusively in pictures. - E. B. Upon the interesting topic here thus summarily though satisfactorily dis- posed of, Macaulay has furnished the following, among other admirable remarks : * The most fatal error which a poet can possibly commit in the manage- ment of his machinery, is that of attempting to philosophise too much. Milton has been often censured for ascribing to spirits many functions of which spirits must be incapable. But these objections, though sanctioned by eminent names, originate, we venture to say, in profound ignorance of the art of poetry. What is spirit ? What are our own minds, the portion of spirit with which we are best acquainted ? We observe certain phenomena. We can- not explain them into material causes. We therefore infer that there exists something which is not material, but of this something we have no idea. We can define it only by negatives. We can reason about it only by sym- bols. We use the word but we have no image of the thing ; and the busi- ness of poetry is with images, and not with words. The poet uses words indeed, but they are merely the instruments of his art, not its objects. They are the materials which he is to dispose in such a manner as to present a picture to the mental eye. And, if they are not so disposed, they are no more entitled to be called poetry than a bale of canvas and a box of colors are to be called a painting. Logicians may reason about abstractions, but the great mass of mankind can never feel an interest in them. They must have images. The strong tendency of the multitude in all ages and nations to idolatry can be explained on no other principles. The first inhabitants of Greece, there is every rea- son to believe, worshipped one invisible Deity ; but the necessity of having something more definite to adore produced, in a few centuries, the innumera- ble crowd of gods and goddesses. In like manner the ancient Persians tho ight it impious to exhibit the Creator under a human form. Yet even they transferred to the sun the worship which, speculatively, they consid- ered due only to the supreme mind. The history of the Jews is the record of a continual struggle between pure Theism, supported by the most terrible sanctions, and the strangely fascinating desire of having some visible and tangible object of adoration. Perhaps none of the secondary causes which Giblx>n has assigned for the rapidity with which Christianity spread over the world, while Judaism scarcely ever acquired a proselyte, operated more powerfully than this feeling. Got!, the uncreated, the incomprehensible, the 14 PARADISE LOST. invisible, attracted but few worshippers. A philosopher might admire so noble a conception ; but the crowd turned away in disgust from words which presented no image to their minds. It was before Deity embodied in a hu- man form, walking among men, partaking of their infirmities, leaning on their bosoms, weeping over their graves, slumbering in the manger, bleeding on the cross, that the prejudices of the synagogue, and the doubts of the Academy, and the pride of the Portico, and the forces of the lictor, and the swords of thirty legions, were humbled in the dust. Soon after Christianity had achieved its triumph, the principle which had fated it began to corrupt it. It became a new Paganism. Patron saints assumed the offices of household gods. St. George took the place of Mars. St. Elmo consoled the mariner for the loss of Castor and Pollux. The vir- gin Mary and Cecilia succeed to Venus and the Muses. The fascination of sex and loveliness was again joined to that of celestial dignity ; and the homage of chivalry was blended with that of religion. Reformers have often made a stand against these feelings ; but never with more than appa- rent and partial success. The men who demolished the images in cathedrals have not always been able to demolish those which were enshrined in their minds. It would not be difficult to show that in politics the same rule holds good. Doctrines, we are afraid, must generally be embodied before they can excite strong public feeling. The multitude is more easily interested for the most unmeaning badge, or the most insignificant name, than for the most important principle. From these considerations, we infer that no poet who should affect that metaphysical accuracy for the want of which Milton has been blamed, would escape a disgraceful failure, still, however, there was another extreme, which, though one less dangerous, was also to be avoided. The imagina- tions of men are in a great measure under the control of their opinions. The most exquisite art of a poetical coloring can produce no illusion when it is employed to represent that which is at once perceived to be incongruous and absurd. Milton wrote in an age of philosophers and theologians. It was necessary therefore for him to abstain from giving such a shock to their un- derstandings, as might break the charm which it was his object to throw over their imaginations. This is the real explanation of the indistinctness and inconsistency with which he has often been reproached. Dr. Johnson acknowledges that it was absolutely necessary for him to clothe his spirits with material forms. u But," says he, u he should have secured the consis- tency of his system, by keeping immateriality out of sight, and seducing the reader to drop it from his thoughts." This is easily said : but what if he could not seduce the reader to drop it from hit thoughts ? What if the con- trary opinion had taken so full a possession of the minds of men, as to leave no room even for the quati-belief which poetry requires ? Such we suspect to have been the case. It was impossible for the poet to adopt altogether the material or the immaterial system. He therefore took his stand on the debateable ground. He left the whole in ambiguity. He has doubtless, by BOOK I. 15 so doing, laid himself open to the charge of inconsistency. But, though phi- losophically in the wrong, we cannot but believe that he was poetically in the right. This task, which almost any other writer would have found im- practicable, was easy to him. The peculiar art which he possessed of com- municating his meaning circuitously, through a long succession of associated ideas, and of intimating nore than he expressed, enabled him to disguise those incongruities which AC could not avoid. The spirits of Milton are unlike those of almost all other writers. His fiends, in particular, are wonderful creations. They are not metaphysical abstractions. They are not wicked men. They are not ugly beasts. They have no horns, no tails. They have just enough in common with human nature to be intelligible to human beings. Their characters are, like their forms, marked by a certain dim resemblance to those of men, but exagger- ated to gigant ; c dimensions and veiled in mysterious gloom. PARADISE LOST. 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, a Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top 1. As in the commencement of the Iliad, of the Odyssey, and of tne JEneid, so here the subject of the poem is the first announcement that is made, and precedes the verb with which it stands connected, thus giving it due prominence. Besides the plainness and simplicity of the exordium, there is (as Newton has observed) a further beauty in the variety of the numbers, which of themselves charm every reader without any sublimity of thought or pomp of expression ; and this variety of the numbers consists chiefly in the pause being so artfully varied that it falls upon a different syllable in almost every line. Thus, in the successive lines it occurs after the words ditobtdimct. trrt, world, Eden, ttf, Mute. In Milton's verse the pause is con- tinually varied according to the sense through all the ten syllables of which it is composed ; and to this peculiarity is to be ascribed the surpassing har- mony of his numbers. 4. Eden : Here the whole is put for a part. It was the loss of Paradite only, the garden, the most beautiful part of Eden ; for after the expulnon of our first parents from Paradise we read of their pursuing their solitary way in Eden, which was an extensive region. 5. Regain, Src. : Compare XII. 463, whence it appears that in the opinion of Milton, aAer the general conflagration, the whole earth would be formed into another, and more beautiful, Paradise than the one that was lost. 6. Mute: One of those nine imaginary heathen divinities, that were BOOK I. 17 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed In the beginuing, how the heav'ns and earth Rose out of Chaos. ^ Or tf Sion hill 10 Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian Mount, while it pursues If* Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. And chiefly Thou, Spirit, that dost prefer thought to preside over certain arts and sciences, is here, in conformity to classical custom, addressed. Secret top : set apart, interdicted. The Israel- ites, during the delivery of the law, were not allowed to ascend that moun- tain. 7. Horeb and Sinai were the names of two contiguous eminences of the same chain of mountains. Compare Exod. iii. 1, with Acts vii. 30. 8 S/iepherd: Moses. Exod. iii. 1. 12. Oracle : God's temple ; so called from the divine communications which were there granted to men. 15. The jlonian Mount; or Mount Helicon, the fabled residence of the Muses, in Bceotia, the earlier name of which was Aonia. Virgil's Eclog. vi. 65. Georg. iii. 11. 16. Things unattended: There were but few circumstances upon which Milton could raise his poem, and in everything which he added out of his own invention he was obliged, from the nature of the subject, to proceed with the greatest caution ; yet he has filled his story with a surprising num- ber of incidents, which bear so close an analogy with what is delivered in holy writ that it is capable of pleasing the most delicate reader without giving offence to the most scrupulous. A. 17. Chiefly Thou, O Spirit : Invoking the Muse is commonly a matter of mere form, wherein the (modern) poets neither mean, nor desire to be thought to mean, anything seriously. But the Holy Spirit, here invoked, is too solemn a name to be used insignificantly : and besides, our author, in the beginning of his next work, ' Paradise Regained,' scruples not to say to the same Divine Person ' Inspire A Thou art wont, my proropte 1 song, else mute." This address therefore _is no mere formality. HEYLIN. It is thought by Bp. Newton that the poet is liable to the charge of enthu tiasm ; having expected from the Divine Spirit a kind and degree of inspira- tion similar to that which the writers of the sacred scriptures enjoyed. The 2 18 PARADISE LOST. Before all temples the upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou know'st ; Thou from the first Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 20 Dovelike sat'st brooding on the vast abyss, And madest it pregnant : What in me is dark, Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; That to the height of this great argument I may assert eternal Providence, 25 And justify the ways of God to Men. Say tirst, for Heav'n hides nothing from thy view, Nor the deep tract of Hell ; say first what cause Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, Favor'd of Heav'n so highly, to fall off 30 widow of Milton was accustomed to affirm that he considered himself as in- spired ; and this report is confirmed by a passage in his Second Book on Church Government, already quoted in our preliminary observations. 24. The hri^hl of the argument is precisely what distinguishes this poem of Milton from all others. In other works of imagination the difficulty lies in giving sufficient elevation to the subject ; here it lies in raising the imagi- nation up to the grandeur of the subject, in adequate conception of its mighti- ness, and in finding language of such majesty as will not degrade it A genius less gigantic and less holy than Milton's would have shrunk from the attempt. Milton not only does not lower ; but he illumines the bright, and enlarges the great : he expands his wings, and " sails with supreme domin- ion" up to the heavens, parts the clouds, and communes with angels and un- embodied spirits. E. B. 27. The poets attribute a kind of omniscience to the Muse, as it enables them to speak of things which could not otherwise be supposed to cotne to their knowledge. Thus Homer, Iliad ii. 485, and Virgil, JEn. vii. 643. Milton's Muse, being the Holy Spirit, must of course be omniscient. N. 30. Greatness, is an important requisite in the action or subject of an epic poem ; and Milton here surpasses both Homer and Virgil. The anger of Achilles embroiled the kings of Greece, destroyed the heroes of Troy, and engaged all the gods in factions. ^Eneas' settlement in Italy produced the Ciesars and gave birth to the Roman empire. Milton's subject does not de- termine the fate merely of single persons, or of a nation, but of an entire species. The united powers of Hell are joined together lor the destruction of mankind, which they effected in part and wouM have completed, had not Omnipotence itself interposed. The principal acton are man in his greatest perfection, and woman in her highest beauty. Th . .ire the fallen ; th Messiah thir friend, and the Almighty their Protect or. IP BOOK I. 19 From their Creator, and trangress his will For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? Who first seduced them to that foul revolt ? Th' infernal Serpent : he it was whose guile, Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived 35 The mother of mankind, what time his pride Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his host Of rebel Angels ; by whose aid aspiring To set himself in glory 'bove his peers, He trusted to have equall'd the Most High, 40 If he opposed ; and with ambitious aim Against the throne and monarchy of God, Raised impious war in Heav'n, and battle proud With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power Hurl'd headlong naming from th' ethereal sky, 45 With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, short, everything that is great in the whole circle of being, whether within the range of nature or beyond it, finds a place in this admirable poem. A. u The sublimest of all subjects (says Cowper) was reserved for Milton ; and, bringing to the contemplation of that subject, not only a genius equal to the best of the ancients, but a heart also deeply impregnated with the divine truths which lay before him, it is no wonder that he has produced a compo- sition, on the whole, superior, to any that we have received from former ages But he who addresses himself to the perusal of this work with a mind en- tirely unaccustomed to serious and spiritual contemplation, unacquainted with the word of God, or prejudiced against it, is ill qualified to appreciate the value of a poem built upon it, or to taste its beauties. 32. One restraint : one subject" of restraint the tree of knowledge o/ good and evil. 34. Serpent. Compare Gen. iii. 1 Tim. ii. 14. John viii. 44. 38. Jltpiring: 1 Tim. iii. 6. 39. In glory : a divine glory, such as God himself possessed. This charge is brought against him, V. 725 ; it is also asserted in line 40 ; again iu VI. 88, VII. 140. 46. Ruin is derived from ruo, and includes the idea of falling with vio- lence and precipitation : combustion is more than flaming in the foregoing line ; it is burning in a dreadful manner. N. . 48. Chain* Compare with Epistle of Judt v. 8. Also, /Eschylus Prometh. 6. 20 PARADISE LOST. Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arras. * Nine times the space that measures day and night 50 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew Lay vanquish 'd, rolling in the fiery gulf, Confounded though immortal : But his doom Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 55 Torments him ; round he throws his baleful eyes, That witness'd huge affliction and dismay, Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate : At once, as far as angels' ken, he views The dismal situation waste and wild : 60 A dungeon horrible on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames No light ; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 65 And rest can never dwell .hope never comes, That comes to all : but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed : Such place eternal justice had prepared 70 50. Nine hmet the spare, Ift. Propriety sometimes requires the use of circumlocution, as in this case. To have said win* dayt and night* would not have been proper when talking of a period before the creation of the sun, and consequently before time was portioned out to any being in that man- ner. CAMPBELL, Phil. Rhet. 52 3. The nine days' astonishment, in which the angels lay entranced after their dreadful overthrow and fall from heaven, before they could recover the use either of thought or speech, is a noble circumstance and very finely imagined. The division of hell into seas of fire, and into firm ground (227-8) impregnated with the same furious element, with that particular circumstance of the exclusion of hope from those infernal regions, are in- stances of the same great and fruitful invention. A. 63. Darknett visible : gloom. Absolute darkness is, strictly s]>eakir.g, in- visible; but where there is a gloom only, there is so much light remaining as serves to show that there are objects, and yet those objects cannot be di-j- anctly seen. Compare with the Penseroso, 79, 80 : \\ lieie glowing ember* through Uie room TYach light to counterfeit e gloom.'* II BOOK I. ^ 21 For those rebellious ; here their pris'n ordained In utter darkness, and their portion set As far removed from God and light of heaven, As from the centre thrice to th' utmost pole. how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 75 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, He soon discerns, and welt'ring by his side One next himself in power, and next in crime, Long after known in Palestine, and named 80 Beelzebub. To whom th' Arch-Enemy, And thence in Heav'n call'd Satan, with bold words 72. Utter, has the same meaning as the word outer, which is applied to darkness in the Scriptures. Spenser uses utter in this sense. 74. Thrice as far as it is from the centre of the earth (which is the centre of the world, (universe,) according to Milton's system, IX. 103, and X. 671,) to the pole of the world ; for it is the pole of the universe, far beyond the pole of the earth, which is here called the utmost pole. It is observable that Homer makes the seat of hell as far beneath the deepest pit of earth as the heaven is above the earth, Iliad viii. 16 ; Virgil makes it twice as far, /Eneid vi. 577 ; and Milton thrice as far : as if these three great poets had stretched their utmost genius, and vied with each other, in extending bis idea of Hell farthest. N. 75. The language of the inspired writings (says Dugald Stewart) is on this as on other occasions, beautifully accommodated to the irresistible im- pressions of nature ; availing itself of such popular and familiar words as up- wards and downwards, above and below, in condescension to the frailty of the human mind, governed so much by sense and imagination, and so little by the abstractions of philosophy. Hence the expression of fallen angels, which, by recalling to us the eminence from which they fell, communicates, in a single word, a character of sublimity to the bottomless abyss. WORKS vol. iv. 288. 77. Fire. Compare with Mark ix. 45, 46. 81. Beelzebub. Compare with Mat. xii. 24. 2 Kings i. 2. The word means god of flies. Here he is made second to Satan. 82. Satan. Many other names are assigned, to this arch enemy of God and man, in the sacred scriptures. He is called the Devil, the Dragon, the Evil One, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, the Prince of this World, the Prince of the power of the air, the God of this World, Apollyon. Abaddon, Belial, Beel- zebub. Milton, it will be seen, applies some of these terms to other evil angels. 22 PARADISE LOST. Breaking the horrid silence thus began : If thou beest he ; but how fallen ! how changed From him who, in the happy realms of light 85 Cloth'd with transcendent brightness didst outshine Myriads though bright ! If he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, Join'd with me once, now misery hath join'd 90 In equal ruin : into what pit thou seest From what height fall'n, so much the stronger proved He with his thunder d&nd till then who knew The force of those dire arms ? yet not for those Nor what the potent victor in his rage 95 The term Satan denotes adversary : the term Devil denotes an accuser, See Kitlo's Bib. Cycl. Upon the character of Satan as described by Milton, Hazlitt has penned an admirable criticism, which will be found at the end of Book I. 84. The confusion of mind felt by Satan is happily shown by the abrupt and halting manner in which he commences this speech. Fallen ; see Isaiah xiv. 12. Changed : see Virg. JEn, ii. 274 : ' Hei mihi quails erat ! Quantum muUtus ab illo !' ' 93. He with hit thunder. There is an uncommon beauty in this expres- sion. Satan disdains to utter the name of God, though he cannot but ac- knowledge his superiority. So again, line 257. N. . 94. Thou: compare JE&ch. Prometh. 991. 95116. Amidst those impieties which this enraged spirit utters in vari- ous parts of the poem, the author has taken care to introduce none that is Dot big with absurdity, and incapable of shocking a religious reader ; hit 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 fre- quently confesses his omnipotence, that being the perfection he was forced to allow, and the only consideration which could support his pride under the shame of his defeat. A. Upon this important point Dr. Channing has made the following observa- tions : " Some have doubted whether the moral effect of such delineations (as Milton has given) of the stormy and terrible workings of the soul is good ; whether the interest felt in a spirit so transcendently evil as Satan favors our sympathies with virtue. But our interest fastens, in this and like CAMS, on what is not evil. We gaze on Satan with an awe not unmixed BOOK I. 23 Can else inflict, do I repent or change, Though changed in outward lustre, that fix'd mind And high disdain from sense of injured merit, That with the Mightiest raised me to contend, And to the fierce contention brought along 100 Innumerable force of Spirits arm'd, That durst dislike his reign, and me preferring, His utmost pow'r with adverse pow'r opposed In dubious battle on the plains of Heav'n, And shook his throne. What though the field be lost ? 105 All is not lost ; th' unconquerable will And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield : And what is else not to be overcome ; That glory never shall his wrath or might 1 10 Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify his pow'r, Who from the terror of this arm so late Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed ! That were an ignominy and shame beneath 115 This downfall ? since by fate the strength of Gods And this empyreal substance cannot fail; with mysterious pleasure, as on a miraculous manifestation of the power ofiir.nd. What chains us, as with a resistless spell, in such a character, is spiritual might (might of soul) , made visible by the racking pains which it over- powers. There is something kindling and ennobling in the consciousness however awakened, of the energy which resides in mind ; and many a vir- tuous man has borrowed new strength from the force, constancy, and daunt- less courage of evil agents." 109. And what, And such appear'd in hue, as when the force 230 Of subterranean wind transports a hill Torn from Pelorus, or the sbattcr'd side Of thund'ring ^Etna, whose combustible And fuel'd entrails thence conceiving fire, And with strong flight did forcibly divide The yielding air, which nigh toofeehle found Her flitting parts, and clement unsound, To bear so greqffiiceight." 229. Liquid fire. Virg. EC. vi. 33. " Et liquid! simul ignis. N. 230. There are several noble similies and allusions in the first book of Paradise Lost. And here it must be observed that when Milton alludes either to things or persons he never quits his simile until it rises to some very great idea, which is often foreign to the occasion that gave birth to it. The simile does not perhaps occupy above a line or two, but the poet runs on with the hint until he has raised out of it some brilliant image or senti- ment adapted to inflame the mind of the reader and to give it that sublime kind of entertainment which is suitable to the nature of an heroic poem. In short, if we look into the poems of Homer, Virgil, and Milton, we must observe, that as the great fable is the soul of each poem, so, to give their works the greater variety, the episodes employed by these authors may be regarded as so many short fables, their similies as so many short episodes, and their metaphors as so many short similies. If 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, be regarded in this light the great beauties existing in each of these passages will readily be dis- covered. A. 231. Wind : this should be altered to winds, to agree with the reading in line 235 ; or that should be altered to agree with this. 232. Pelorus : the eastern promontory of Sicily. 234. Thence conceiving fire : the combustible and fuelled entrails, or interior contents, of the mountain, are here represented as taking fire, as the result of the action of the subterranean wind, in removing the side of the mountain. The fire thus kindled was sublimed with mineral fury, that is. was heightened by the rapid combustion of mineral substances of a bituminous nature. The poet seems to have in his mind the description of ^.tna by Vhgil (book iii 572, 578.) Sed horrificis juxta tonat ^Ktna minis, Interdiimqnc atrttm prorumpit 15. This magnificent call of Satan to his prostrate host could have been .tlen by nobody but Milton. E. B. ">25. Anon: Soon. 329. An allusion seems here to be made to the JEneid, book i. 44-5. Ilium, ex(|'irmntcm tranifixo prctore flammas, Tuilunc corripuit. Kr|iiiliH|iie infixit acuto. 338. dmramt ion : Moses. See Exod. x. 341. Warping: Moving like waves; or, working themselves forward. H. BOOK I. 35 Hov'ring on wing under the cope of Hell 345 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; Till, as a signal giv'n, th' uplifted spear Of their great Sultan waving to direct Their course, in even balance down they light On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain ; 350 A multitude, like which the populous north Pour'd never from her frozen loins, to pass Rhcne or the Danaw, when her barb'rous sons Came like a deluge on the south, and spread Beneath Gibraltar to the Lybian sands. 355 Forthwith from ev'ry squadron and each band The heads and leaders thither haste where stood Their great commander ; Godlike shapes and forms Excelling human, princely dignities, And Pow'rs that erst in Heaven sat on thrones ; 360 Though of their names in heav'nly records now Be no memorial, blotted out and rased By their rebellion from the books of life. Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve Got them new names, till wand'ring o'er the earth, 365 345. Cope: Roof. 352. Frozen loins : In Scripture children are said to come out of tlie loins, Gen. xxxv. 1 1 . The term frozen is here used only on account of the cold- ness of the climate. Rhcne and Danaw, the one from the Latin, the other from the German, are chosen because uncommon. Barbarous : The Goths, Huns, and Vandals, wherever their conquests extended, destroyed the monu- ments of ancient learning and taste. Beneath Gibraltar : That is, southward of it, the northern portion of the globe being regarded as uppermost. N. The three comparisons relate to the three different states in which these fallen angels are represented. When abject and lying supine on the lake, they are fitly compared to vast heaps of leaves which in autumn the poet himself had observed to bestrew the water-courses and bottoms of Vallom- brosa. When roused by their great leader's objurgatory summons, they are compared, in number, with the countless locusts of Egypt. The object of the third comparison is to illustrate their number when assembled as sol- diers on the firm brimstone, and here they are compared with the most nu- merous body of troops wliich history had made mention of. DUNSTER. 360. Ertt: Formerly. 364-375. The subject of Paradise Lost is the origin of evil an event, in 36 PARADISE LOST. Thro' God's high fluff 'ranee for the trial of man, By falsities and lies the greatest part Of mankind they corrupted, to forsake God their Creator, and th' invisible Glory of him that made them to transform 370 Oft to the image of a brute, adorn'd With gay religions full of pomp and gold, And Devils to adore for Deities : Then were thoy known to men by various names, And various idols through the Heathen world. 375 Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who last Roused from the slumber, on that fiery couch, At their great emp'ror's call, as next in worth Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 The chief were those who from the pit of Hell Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix Their seats long after next the seat of God, Their altars by his altar, Gods adored Among the nations round, and durst abide 385 ito nature connected with everything important in the circumstances of hu- man existence ; and, amid these circumstances, Milton saw that the Fnbltt of Paganism were too important and poetical to be omitted. As a Chri.-tian he was entitled wholly to neglect them, but as a poet he chose to treat them not as the dreams of the human mind, but as the delusions of infernal exist- ences. Thus anticipating a beautiful propriety for all classical allusions ; thus connecting and reconciling the co-existence of fable and of truth ; and thus identifying the fallen angels with the deities of " gay religions full of pomp and gold," he yoked the heathen mythology in triumph to his subject, and clothed himself in the spoils of super.-tition. KDI.NB. ENCYC. This subject ia again presented in the last note on Book I. 369. Rom. i. 18-25. 372. Religion* : That is, religions rites. 375. Holt: Heathen idols' are here described as the ii-pn f there demons. Addison remarks that 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 Homers catalogue of ships, and Vir^il'.-s list of warriors in his view. 376. When they apostatised, they acquired new and dishonorable name*. BOOK I. 37 Jehovah thund'ring out of Sion, throned Between the Cherubim ; yea, often placed Within his sanctuary itself their shrines, . Abominations ; and with cursed things His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 390 And with their darkness durst affront his light. First Moloch, horrid king, besmear'd with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears, Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud Their children's cries unheard, that pass'd thro' fire 395 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite Worshipp'd in Rabba and ner wat'ry plain, In Argob and in Basan, to the stream Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such Audacious neighborhood, the wisest heart 400 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build . His temple right against the temple of God, On that opprobrious hill ; and made his grove The pleasant valo of Hinnom, Tophet thence 387. Cherubim : The golden figures placed over the ark in the Hebrew sanc- tuary, Exod. xxv. See also 2 Kings xix. 15 " O Lord God of Israel, which dwellest between the Cherubim." 392. Moloch : The national God of the Ammonites ; properly denomi- nated horrid, since to him children were offered in sacrifice. Consult 2 Kings xxiii. 10-13. The characters ascribed to Moloch anil Belial prepare us for their respective speeches and behaviour in the second and sixth books. 397-8. Rabba, or Kabbah, was the principal city of the Ammonites, twenty miles northeast of Jericho, and on the east side of the Jordan. Jlr- gob is not far distant. Bashan is a large district of country lying east of the Sea of Tiberias, celebrated for its cattle, and its oaks. At the time of the conquest of Canaan by the Hebrews, the Ammonites occupied the country east of Jordan, from the river Jlriwn, which empties into the Dead Sea to :he river Jabbok. The vale of Hinnom was near Jerusalem. 403. Solomon built a temple to Moloch on the Mount of Olives (1 Kings xi. 7) : it is hence called that opprobrious (or infamous) hill. 404. Tophet: In the Hebrew, drum; this and other noisy instruments being used to drown the cries of the miserable children who were offered to this idol ; and (iclminu. or the valley of Hiiuioni, is in several places of the New Testament, and by our Saviour himself, made the name and type of hell. N. 38 PARADISE LOST. And black Gehenna call'd, the type of Hell. 405 Next Cheiuos, the obscene dread of Moab's sons, From Aroar to Nebo, and the wild Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon And Horonaiiu, Scon's realm, beyond The flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines, 410 And Eleale to th' Asphaltic pool. Peor his other name, when he enticed Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 415 E'en to that bill of scandal, by the grove Of Moloch homicide ; lust hard by hate ; Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. 406. Chtmo* : The god of the Moabites. Consult 1 Kings xi. 6, 7. 2 Kings xxiii. 13. It is supposed to be same as Baal-Peor, and as Priapus. Numb, xxv. 1-9. 408. Hescbon (Heshbon) : Twenty-one miles east of the mouth of the Jordan. Its situation is still marked by a few broken pillars, several large ( cisterns and wells, together with extensive ruins which overspread a high hill, commanding a wild and desolate scenery on every side. Jlbarim is a chain of mountains running north and south, east of the Dead Sea ; Piigah is some eminence in this chain at the northern part, and Airio is supposed to be the summit of Pisgah, nearly opposite Jericho. It was here that the great leader of the Israelites was favored with a view of the land of promise, and yielded up his life at the command of the Lord, n. c. 1451. Aroar (Aroer) was a place situated on the river Arnon. which formed the northern bound- ary of the kingdom of Moab. Scon (Sihon) was king of the Amorites. Sibma was half a mile from Heshbon ; Ele.iK, two and a half miles south of it. The Atphnltic pool is the Dead Sea. Sittim is written Shittim in the Bible. 415. Orgia: Wild, frantic rites. The term is generally applied to the feasts of Bacchus, but is equally applicable to the obscene practices connected with the worship of Chemos, or Peor. 417. Lutt hard by hate: The figure contained in this verse conveys a strong moral truth. Had it not been, however, that the music of the verse would have been injured, the idea would have been more correct by the transposition of the words lust and hate. S. Our author might perhaps have in view Spenser's Mack of Cupid, where Anger, Strife, &c., are represented as immediately following Cupid in the procession. T BOOK I. 39 With these came they, who from the bord'ring flood Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 420 Eygpt from Syrian ground, had general names Of Baalim and Ashtaroth ; those male, These feminine ; for spirits, when they please, Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft And uncorn pounded is their essence pure 425 Not tied nor manacled with joint or limb ; Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, Can execute their aery purposes, 430 And works of love or enmity fulfil. For those tbr mce of Israel oft forsook 419. Bordering /M/e-a . The Euphrates formed the eastern border of the pro- mised land, Gen. x 6 . It may be called old from the very early historic mention of it in Gti. >:'S Cvc. BOOK I. 41 Of alienated Judah. Next came one Who mourn'd in earnest, when the captive ark Maim'd his brute image, head and hands lopp'd off In his own temple, on the grunsel edge, 460 Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers : Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man And downward fish : yet had his temple high Rear'd in Azotus, dreaded through the coast Of Palestine, in Gath and AscaJon, 465 And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. Him follow'd Rimmon, whose delightful seat Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. He also 'gainst the house of God was bold : 470 A leper once he lost, and gain'd a king ; Ahaz his sottish conqu'ror, whom he drew God's altar to disparage and displace For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn His odious offerings, and adore the gods 475 Whom he had vanquish'd. After these appear'd A crew, who, under names of old renown, 460. Grunsel edge: Groundsill edge the threshold of the gate of the temple. 462- Dagon : A god of the Philistines. Consult Judges xvi. 23. 1 Sam. v. 4 ; vi. 17. 467. Rimmon : A god of the Syrians. Consult 2 Kings v. 18. 467-9. The power of Milton's mind is stamped on every line. The fer- vour of his imagination melts down and renders malleable, as in a furnace, the most contradictory materials. Milton's learning has all the effect of in- tuition. He describes objects, of which he could only have read in books, with the vividness of actual observation. His imagination has the force of nature. He makes words tell as pictures, as in these lines. The word /tirirf, here used, gives us all the sparkling effect of the most perfect landscape There is great depth of impression in his descriptions of the objects of all the different senses, whether colours, or sounds, or smells ; the same absorption of mind in whatever engaged his attention at the time. He forms the most in- tense conceptions of things, and then embodies them by a single stroke of his pen. HAZLITC. 471. 2 Kings viii. xvi. 10. 2 Chron. xxviii. 23. 42 PARADISE LOST Osiris, Iris, Orus, and their train, With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 480 Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape Th' infection, when their borrow'd gold composed The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 4S5 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox ; Jehovah, who in one night when he pass'd From Kgypt marching, equall'd with one stroke Both her first-born, and all her bleating gods. Belial came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 490 Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love Vice for itself : to whom no temple stood, Nor altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he In temples and at altars, when the priest Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who fill'd 495 478. Oriris, one of the principal Egyptian gods, was brother to Isis, and the father of Orus (Horus) . Osiris was worshipped under the form of the sacred bulls. Apis and Mnevis; and as it is usual in the Egyptian symboli- cal language to represent their deities with human forms, and with the heads of the animals which were their representatives, we find statues of Osiris with the horns of a bull. ANTHON. The reason alleged for worshipping their gods under the monstrous forms of bulls, cats, &c., is the fabulous tradition that when the Giants invaded hea- ven, the gods were so affrighted that they fled into Egypt, and there concealed themselves in the shapes of various animals. See Ovid Met. v. 319. N. 483. Infection : The Israelites, by dwelling so long in Egypt, were infected with the superstitions of the Egyptians. E. B. 48-1. Oreb : Horeb. Rebel king : Jeroboam. Consult 1 Kings xii. 26-33. 485. Doubled that rin, by making two golden calves, probably in imitation of the Egyptians among whom he had been, who worshipped two oxen ; one called Apis, at Memphis, the metropolis of Upper Egypt; the other called Mnevis, at Hieropolis, the chief city of Lower Egypt. Bethel and Dan were at the southern and northern extremities of Palestine. See Psalm cvi. 20. N. 480. Bleating god* : Sheep ; and hence shepherds who raised sheep to kill for food were " an abomination" to the Egyptians. 495. Elf i ton* : Consult 1 Sam. ii. BOOK I. 43 With lust and violence the house of God ? In courts and palaces he also reigns, And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury and outrage : and when night 500 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night In Gibeah, when the hospitable door Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. 505 These were the prime in order and in might : The rest were long to tell, though far renown'd, Th' Ionian gods, of J avail's issue held Gods, yet confess'd later than Heaven and Earth, Their boasted parents : Titan, Heav'n's first-born, 510 With his enormous brood, and birthright seized By younger Saturn : he from mightier Jove, His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; So Jove usurping reign'd : these first in Crete And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 515 Of cold Olympus, ruled the middle air, Their highest heav'n ; or on the Delphian cliff, Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old Fled over Adria to th' Hesperian fields, 520 . And o'er tlie Celtic roam'd the utmost isles. 502. Flown: A better reading is blown, inflated. Virg. EC. vi. 15. 504. Gibeah : Consult Judges xix. 14-30. 506. Prime: Being mentioned in the oldest records, the Hebrew. 508. Javan : The fourth son of Japhet, from whom the lonians and the Greeks are supposed to have descended. 509. Heaven and Earth : The god Uranus, and the goddess Gaia. 510-521. Titan was their eldest son: he was the father of the Giants and his empire was seized by his younger brother Saturn, as Saturn's was by Jupiter, the son of Saturn and Rhea. These first were known in the island of Crete, now Candia, in which is Mount Ida, where Jupiter is said to have been born ; thence passed over into Greece, and resided on Mount Olymput in Thessaly : the itnowy top of raid Olympus, as Homer calls it, Iliad i. 420. xviii. 615, which mountain afterwards became the name of Heaven among their 44 PARADISE LOST. All these and more came flocking ; but with looks Downcast and dump ; yet such wherein appear'd Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their chief Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 525 In loss itself: which on his count'nance cast Like doubtful hue : but he, his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. 530 Then straight commands, that at the warlike sound Of trumpets loud and clarions be uprear'd His mighty standard ; that proud honor claim 'd Azazel as his right, a cherub tall ; Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd 535 Th' imperial ensign ; which, full high advanced, Shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind, With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : 540 At which the universal host up-sent A shout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air, 545 With orient colors waving : with them rose A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array worshippers ; or on the Delphian cliff, Parnassus, on which was seated the city of Delphi, famous for the temple and oracle of Apollo ; or in IXx/ona, a city and wood adjoining, sacred to Jupiter ; and through all the bound $ of Doric (and, that is. of Greece, Doris being a part of Greece ; or fitd over Hadria, the Adriatic sea, to the Hesperian fieldt, to Italy ; and o'er the Celtic, France and the other countries overrun by the Celts ; roamed the utmost itlei, Great Britain, Ireland, the Orkneys, Thulc, or Iceland, Ultima Thule, as it is called, the utmost boundary of the world. N. 534. Jlzazel : The name signifies brave in retreating. 543. Reign, in the sense of regnttm, kingdom. 546. Orient: Brilliant BOOK r. 45 Of depth immeasurable : anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 Of flutes and soft recorders ; such as raised To height of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle ; and instead of rage Deliberate valor breath'd, firm and unmoved With dread of death to flight or foul retreat 555 Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage, With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, Breathing united force, with fixed thought, 560 Moved on iu silence, to soft pipes, that charm 'd Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil : and now Advanced in view they stand ; a horrid front Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise Of warriors old with order'd spear and shield, 565 Awaiting what command their mighty chief Had to impose : he through the armed files Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse The whole battalion views, their order due, Their visages and stature as of gods : 570 Their number last he sums. And now his heart Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength Glories ; for never since created man Met such embodied force, as, named with these, Could merit more than that small infantry 575 548. Serried shields : Locked one within another, linked and clasped to- gether, from the French serrer, to lock, to shut close. HUME. 550. There were three kinds of music among the ancients ; the Lydian, the most melancholy ; the Phrygian, the most lively ; and the Dorian, the most majestic, (exciting to cool and deliberate courage. N.) Milton has been very exact in employing music fit for each particular purpose. S. 551. Recorders: Flageolets. 060. Homer's Iliad, iii. 8. 568. Traoerte : across. 575. All the heroes and armies that ever were assembled were no more than pigmies in comparison with these angels. N. See note on !' >ok L 780. 46 PARADISE LOST. Warr'd on by cranes : though all the giant brood Of Phlcgra with th' heroic race werejoin'd That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side Mix'd with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds In fable or romance of Uther's son 680 Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; And all who since, baptized or infidel, Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 585 When Charlemagne with all his peerage fell By Fontarabia. Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed Their dread commander : he, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent," 590 Stood like a tower ; his form had uot yet lost . 577. Phlegm : The earlier name of the peninsula Pallene in Macedonia and the fabled scene of a conflict between the gods and the earth-born Titans. 580. Uther was the father of king Arthur. This and the following allu ions are derived from the old romances on the subject. Charlemagne is said not to have died at Fontarabia, but some years after, and in peace. S. 581. Armoric: Celtic those on the sea-coast of Brittany in the north- west part of France. 583. Jousted: Engaged in mock fights on horseback. Jlspramont and Montulban : Fictitious names of places mentioned in Orlando Furioso. 585. Biterta : Formerly called Utica. The Saracens are referred to as being sent thence to Spain. Fontarabia: Afortined town in Biscay, in Spain, near France. 590-99. Here, says Burke, is a very noble picture ; and in what does this poetical picture consist ? in images of a town, an archangel, the sun rising through mists, or in an eclipse, the ruin of monarchs, and the revolutions of kingdoms. The mind is hurried out of itself by a crowd of great and con- fased images, which affect because they are crowded and confused: for separate them, and you lose much of the greatness ; join them, and you in- fallibly lose the clearness. There are reasons in nature why the obscure idea, when properly conveyed, should be more affecting than the clear. It is our (comparative) ignorance of things that causes all our admiration, and chiefly excite* our passions. Knowledge and acquaintance make the most striking causes affect but little. It is thus with th* vulgar, and all men art at th vulgar in what they do not understand. BOOK r. 47 All her original brightness, nor appeared Less than archangel ruin'd, and the excess Of glory obscured ; as when the sun, ne*v riflen. Looks through the horizontal misty air 595 Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Darken'd so, yet shone Above them all the Arch-angel : but his face 600 Deep scars of thunder had intrench M, and care Sat on his faded cheek ; but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride Waiting revenge ; cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 605 The fellows of his crime, the followers rather 595-6. When Milton sought license to publish his poem, the licenser was strongly inclined to withhold it, on the ground that he discovered treason in this noble simile of the sun eclipsed ! a striking example of the acute remark of Lord Lyttleton, that "the politics of Milton at that time brought his poetry into disgrace ; for it is a rule with the English to see no good in a man whose politics they dislike." T. 597. Eclipse : Derived from a Greek word which signifies to fail, to faint or swoon away ; since the moon, at the period of her greatest brightness, falling into the shadow of the earth, was imagined by the ancients to sicken and swoon, as if she were^ going to die. By some very ancient nations she was supposed, at such times, to be in pain ; and, in order to relieve her fan- cied distress, they lifted torches high in the atmosphere, blew horns and tmmpets, beat upon brazen vessels, and even, after the eclipse was over, they offered sacrifices to the moon. The opinion also extensively prevailed, that it was in the power of witches, by their spells and charms, not only to darken the moon, but tp bring her down from her orbit, and to compel her to shed her baleful influences upon the earth. In solar eclipses, also, especially when total, the sun was supposed to turn away his face in abhorrence of some atrocious crime, that had cither been pei petrated, or was about to be perpetrated, and to threaten mankind with everlasting night, and the destruc- tion of the world. To such superstitions Milton, in this passage, alludes. OLMSTED'S LETTERS ON ASTROX. No where is the person of Satan described with more sublimity than in this part of the poem. 600. Intrenched : Cut into, made trenches there. N. 60. Fdlowt. The nice moral discrimination displayed in this line, is worthy of notice. 48 PARADISE G'JST. (Far other once beheld in bliss), condemned For ever now to have their lot in pam : Millions of Spirits for his fault amerced Of heaven, and from eternal splendours flung 610 For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood, Their glory wither'd: as when Heav'n's fire Hath scath'd the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With singed top their stately growth tho' bare Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared 615 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 essay'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth. At last 620 Words interwove with sighs found out their way. myriads of immortal Spirits, Powers Matchless, but with th' Almighty, and that strife Was not inglorious, though the event was dire, As this place testifies, and this dire change, 625 Hateful to utter ; but what power of mind, Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth Of knowledge past or present, could have fear'd How such united force of Gods, how such As stood like these, could ever know repulse; 630 For who can yet believe, though after loss, That all these puissant legions, whose exile 609. Amerced: Judicially deprived. See Horn. Odys. viii. 64. 611. Yet faithful: We must refer to line 605, and thence supply here "to behold." 619. Allusion to Ovid. Met. xi. 41.0 : Ter conata loqui, ter fletibui ora rigavit, 620. Tear*, turh at angel* twp . Like Homer's ichor of the gals, which was different from the blood of mortals. This weeping of Satan on sun-ey- ing his numerous host, and the thoughts of their wretched state, put one it mind of the story of Xerxes, weeping at the sight of his immense army, ami reflecting that they were mortal, at the time that he was hastening them t< their fate, and to the intended destruction of the most polished people in th< world, to gratify his own vain glory. N. BOOK I. 49 Hath emptied Heav'n, shall fail to re-ascend Self-raised, and repossess their native seat ? For me, be witness all the host of Heav'n, 635 If counsels different, or danger shunn'd By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns Monarch in Heav'n, till then as one secure Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute, Consent, or custom, and his regal state 640 Put forth at full, but still his strength conceal'd, Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. Henceforth his might we know, and know our own, So as not either to provoke or dread New war, provoked ; our better part remains 645 To work in close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not ; that he no less At length from us may find, who overcomes By force, hath overcome but half his foe. Space may produce new worlds ; whereof so rife 650 There went a fame in Heav'n that he ere long Intended to create, and therein plant A generation, whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the sons of Heav'n : Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 656 Our first eruption, thither or elsewhere : For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor th' abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature : Peace is despair'd, 660 For who can think submission ? War then, War, Open or understood, must be resolved. He spake : and, to confirm his words, out flew 633. Emptied: An instance of arrogant boasting and falsehood. 642. Tempted our attempt : Words which, though well-chosen and signifi- cant enough, yet of jingling and unpleasant sound, and, like marriages be- tween persons too near of kin, to be avoided. 650. Rife : Prevalent. This /om, or report, serves to exalt the dignity and importance of our race. 662. Underload : Not declared. 4 60 PARADISE LOST. Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim : the sudden blase 665 Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance tow'rd the vault of Heaven. There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 Belch 'd fire and rolling smoke ; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf, undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metallic ore, The work of sulphur. Thither wing'd with speed A num'rous brigade hasten 'd : as when bands 675 Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm'd, Forerun the royal camp to trench a field, Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on ; Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From Heav'n : for e'en in Heav'n his looks and thoughts 680 Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of HeavVs pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoy'd In vision beatific. By him first Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 685 064. Drawn from the thigh* : A Homeric expression, Iliad, i. 190, more dig- nified than ' drawn from the sides." 668. Clothed : Alluding to a custom among Roman soldiers of striking their shields with their swords, when they applauded the speeches of their commanders. 671. Belched: An idea borrowed, perhaps, from an expression of Virgil (JEn. iii. 576) , eructant, in describing ^Etna. 674. Tht tcork of tulphur : Metals were in the the time of Milton supposed to consist of two component parts, mercury, as the basis, or metallic matter ; and sulphur as the binder or cement, which fixes the fluid mercury into a co- herent, malleable mass. So Jonson in the Alchemist, Act 2, Scene 3 : ' It turn* to sulphur, or to quicksilver. Who are the parent* of all other metals." 678. Mammon : The god of riches ; the same as the Pluto of the Greeks and Romans. Tne delineation of his character and agency by Milton, abounds in literary beauties. 683. Sugge$tion: Milton here alludes to a superstitious opinion formerly BOOK I. 51 Kansack'd the centre, and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Open'd into the hill a spacious wound, And digg'd out ribs of gold. Let none admire 690 That riches grow in Hell ; that soil may best Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wond'ring tell Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, 695 And strength, and art, are easily outdone By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they with incessant toil And hands innumerable scarce perform. Nigh on the plain in many cells prepared, 700 That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude With wond'rous art founded the massy ore, Severing each kind, and scumm'd the bullion dross ; A third as soon had form'd within the ground 705 A various mould, and from the boiling cells current with the miners, that there is a sort of demons who have much to do with minerals, being frequently seen occupying themselves with the va- rious processes of the workmen. So tltat Milton (as Warburton remarks) poetically supposes Mammon and his clan to have taught the sons of earth by example and practical instruction, as well as precept and mental suggestion. 687. Compare Ovid Met. i. 138, &c. HUME. 688. Better hid. Compare Hor. Od. III. iii. 49: " Aurum irrepertum, et sic melius litum." 694. Workt : The pyramids. 696. Strength and art : These words are in the nominative case, connected with monuments. 699. Diodorus Siculus says, that 360,000 men were employed about twenty years on one of the pyramids. 7034. The sense of the passage is this: They founded, or melted, the ore that was in the mast, by separating, or fevering, each kind, that is, the sul- phur, earth, &c., from the metal ; and, after that, they scummed the drou that floated on the top of the boiling ore, or bullion. The word bullion dot* not here signify purified ore, but ore boiling. PEAROR. 62 PARADISE LOST. By strange conveyance fill'd each hollow nook, As in an organ, from one blast of wind, To many a row of pipes, the sound-board breathes. Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 710 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid With golden architrave ; nor did there want 71ft Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures grav'n : The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, Nor great Alcairo such magnificence Equalled in all their glories, to inshrine Belus or Serapis their Gods, or seat 720 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. Th' ascending pile Stood fix'd her stately height ; and straight the doors, Op'ning their brazen folds, discover wide Within her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 725 And level pavement. From the arched roof, Pendant by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730 708. Organ : A very complete simile is here used. Milton, being fond of music, often draws fine illustrations from it. 710. Jlnon: At once. 715. Architrave : The part of a pillar above the capital. Above this, is the frieze, which is surmounted by the cornict. 718. JHcairo: Cairo, a famous city in Egypt, built from the splendid ruins of Memphis, which was partially destroyed by Arabian invaders, in the seventh century. The god Serapis, is by some supposed to be the same as Osiris, or Apis. The Belus of Assyria is thought to be the same as the great Bali of Hindoo mythology, and Baal mentioned in the Scriptures. 723. Her ttately height : At her stately height. 725. Within : Is an adverb and not a preposition. So Virg. JEn. ii. 483. Apparet domu intut, et atria long* patescunt N. 738. Crrttett: Torch**. BOOK I. 53 Admiring enter'd ; and the work some praise, And some the architect : his hand was known In heaven by many a tower'd structure high, Where sceptred angels held their residence, And sat as princes ; whom the supreme King 735 Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unadored In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land Men call'd him Mulciber ; and how he fell 740 From Heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day ; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star, 745 On Lemnos, th' JEgean isle : thus they relate, Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout Fell long before ; nor ought avail'd him now T' have built in heav'n high tow'rs ; nor did he 'scape By all his engines, but was headlong sent 750 With his industrious crew to build in hell. Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command Of sovereign power, with awful ceremony 740. Mulciber : Or Vulcan, to which god was ascribed the invention of arts connected with the melting and working of metals by fire. The term Vulcan is, hence, sometimes used as synonymous with fire. How he fell, tfc See Homer's Iliad, i. 590. " Once in your cause I felt hi* (Jove's) matchless might, Hurl'd headlong downward from the ethereal height ; Tost all the day in rapid circles round ; Nor till the sun descended, touched the ground : Breathless I fell, in giddy motion lost ; The Sinthians raised me on the Lemnian coast." It is worth observing how Milton lengthens out the time of Vulcan's fall. He not only says with Homer, that it was all day long, but we are led through the parts of the day from morn to noon, from noon to evening, and this a summer's day. N. 742. Sheer : Quite, or at once. 750. Engine* : It is said that iu the old English, this word was often used for devices, wit, contrivance > 1 PARADISE LOST. And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim A solemn council, forthwith to be held 755 At Pandemonium, the high capital Of Satan and his peers': their summons call'd From every band and squared regiment By place or choice the worthiest : they anon, With hundreds and with thousands, trooping came 760 Attended : all access was throng'd : the gates And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall (Though like a cover M field, where champions bold Wont ride in ann'd, and at the soldan's chair Defied the best of Panim chivalry 765 To mortal combat, or career with lance), Thick swarm 'd, both on the ground and in the air, Brush M with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees In spring time, when the sun with Taurus rides, Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 770 In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubb'd with balm, expatiate and confer Their state affairs ; so thick the afery crowd 775 Swarm'd and were straiten'd ; till, the signal given, Behold a wonder ! They but now who seemM In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons, Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 763. Covered: Enclosed. 764. Wont ride in : Were accustomed to ride in. Soldan't : Sultan's. 765. Panim : Pagan, infidel. 768. Jit beet, $c. : Iliad, ii. 87. ' A* from iome rocky cleft the shepherd leei Cluttering in heap* on heaps the driving beet, Boiling and blackening, swarms succeeding swarm* With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms ; Dnikjr they spread, a close embodi'd crowd, And o'er the vale descends the living cloud. So." tc. 769. Taunt* : One of the signs of the Zodiac, Book X. 63. 777. Jt wonder : Consult the note on line 423. BOOK I. 55 Throng numberless, like that pygmean race 780 Beyond the Indian mount ; or fairy elves, Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 785 Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large, 790 Though without number still, amidst the hall Of that infernal court. But far within, And in then* own dimensions like themselves, The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim, In close recess and secret conclave sat, 795 A thousand Demi-gods on golden seats, Frequent and full. After short silence then, And summons read, the great consult began. 780. Pygmean, $c. : A fabulous nation of dwarfs that contended annually with cranes. They advanced against these birds mounted on the backs of rams and goats, and armed with bows and arrows. Iliad, iii. 3. 785. Nearer to the earth, fyc. : Referring to the superstitious notion that witches and fairies exert great power over the moon. 789. Spirits, tfc. : For some further account of the nature and properties of spirits consult Book VI. 344-353. 795. Secret conclave : An evident allusion to the conclaves of the cardinals on the death of a Pope. E. B. 797. Frequent : Crowded, as in the Latin phrase, frequent senatut 798. Consult: Consultation. Milton, in imitation of Homer and Virgil, opens his Paradise Lost with an irJernal council, plotting the fall of man, which is the action he proposed to celebrate ; and as for those great actions, the battle of the angels and the creation of the world, which preceded, in point of time, and which would have entirely destroyed the unity of the principal action, had he related them in the same order in which they happened, he cast them into the fifth, sixth, and seventh books, by way of episode to this noble poem. It may be remarked of all the episodes introduced by Milton, that they arise naturally from the subject. In relating the fall of man, he has (by way of episode) 56 PARADISE LOST. related the fall of those angels who were his professed enemies ; and the two narratives are so conducted as not to destroy unity of action, having a close affinity for each other. _ In respect to the rule of epic poetry, which requires the action to be en- tire, or complete, in all its parts, having a beginning, a middle, and an end the action in the Paradise Lost, was contrived in Hell, executed upon Earth, and punished by Heaven. The parts are distinct, yet grow out of one ano- ther in the most natural method. A. THE CHARACTERS IN PARADISE LOST. Addison, in his Spectator, has some learned and interesting remarks upon this topic, of which the substance is now to be presented. Homer has ex- celled all the heroic poets in the multitude and variety of his characters. Every god that is admitted into the Iliad, acts a part which would have been suitable to no other deity. His princes are as much distinguished by their manners as by their dominions ; and even those among them, whose charac- ters seem wholly made up of courage, differ from one another as to the par- ticular kinds of courage in which they excel. Homer excels, moreover, in the novelty of his characters. Some of them, also, possess a dignity which adapts them, in a peculiar manner, to the nature of an heroic poem. If we look into the characters of Milton, we shall find that he has intro- duced all the variety his narrative was capable of receiving. The whole species of mankind was in two persons, at the time to which the subject of his poem is confined. We have, however, four distinct characters in these two persons. We see man and woman in the highest innocence and per- fection, and in the most abject state of guilt and infirmity. The last two characters are now, indeed, very common and obvious ; but the first two are not only more magnificent, but more new than any characters either in Vir- gil or Homer, or, indeed, in the whole circle of nature. To supply the lack of characters, Milton has brought into his poem two actors of a shadowy and fictitious nature, in the persons of Sin and Death, by which means he has wrought into the body of his fable a very beautiful and well-invented allegory. (See Note. Book II. 649.) Another principal actor in this poem, is the great Adversary of mankind. The part of Ulysses, in Homer's Odyssey, is very much admired by Aris- totle, as perplexing that fable with very agreeable plots and intricacies, not only by the many adventures in his voyage, and the subtlety of his be- haviour, but by the various concealments and discoveries of his person in several parts of that poem. But the crafty being, mentioned above, makes a much longer voyage than Ulysses, puts in practice many more wiles and stratagems, and hides himself under a greater variety of shapes and appear- ances, all of which are severally detected, to the great delight and surprise of the reader. It may, likewise, be observed, with how much art the poet has Tirirf BOOK I 57 Mveral characters of the persons that speak in his infernal assembly. On the contrary, he has represented the whole Godhead exerting itself towaids man, in its full benevolence, under the threefold distinction of a Creator, Redeemer, and Comforter. The angels are as much diversified in Milton, and distinguished by their proper parts, as the gods are in Homer or Virgil. The reader will find nothing ascribed to Uriel, Gabriel. Michael, or Raphael, which is not in a particular manner suitable to their respective characters. The heroes of the Iliad and ^Eneid, were nearly related to the people for whom Virgil and Homer wrote: their adventures would be read, conse- quently, with the deeper interest by their respective countrymen. But Milton's poem has an advantage, in this respect, above both the others, since it is impossible for any of its readers, whatever nation or country he may belong to, not to be related to the persons who are the principal actors in it ; but, what is still infinitely more to its advantage, the principal actors in this poem, are not only our progenitors, but our representatives. We havo an actual interest in everything they do, and no less than our utmost happi- ness is concerned, and lies at stake in all their behaviour. OBJECTION TO MYTHOLOGICAL ALLUSIONS CONSIDERED. The charge is brought against Milton of blending the Pagan and Chris- tian forms. The great realities of angels and archangels, are continually combined into the same groups with the fabulous impersonations of the Greek Mythology. In other poets, this combination might be objected to, but not in Milton. for the following reason : Milton has himself laid an early foundation for his introduction of the pagan pantheism into Christian groups ; the false gods of the heathen were, according to Milton, the fallen angels. They are not false, therefore, in the sense of being unreal, baseless, and having a merely fantastical existence, like the European fairies, but as having drawn aside mankind from a pure worship. As ruined angels, under other names, they are no less real than the faithful and loyal angels of the Christian Heaven. And in that one difference of the Miltonic creed, which the poet has brought pointedly and elaborately under his readers' notice by his matchless cata- logue of the rebellious angels, and of their pagan transformations, in the very first book of the Paradise Lost, is laid beforehand the amplest foundation for his subsequent practice ; and, at the same time, therefore, the amplest an- swer to the charge preferred against him by Dr. Johnson, and by so many other critics, who had not sufficiently penetrated the latent theory on which he acted. BLACKWOOD'S MAO. THE CHARACTER OF MILTON'S SATAN. " Satan is the most heroic subject that ever was chosen for a poem : and the execution is as perfect as the design is lofty. He was the first of created 58 PARADISE LOST. beings, who, for endeavouring to be equal with the Highest, and to divide the empire of Heaven with the Almighty, was hurled down to Hell. His aim was no less than the throne of the universe ; his means, myriads of angelic armies bright, who dun>t defy the Omnipotent in arms. His strength of mind was matchless, as his strength of body : the vastness of his designs did not surpass the firm, inflexible determination with which he submitted to his irreversible doom, and final loss of all good. His power of action and of suffering was equal. He was the greatest power that was ever over- thrown, with the strongest will left to resist or to endure. He wait baffled, not confounded. The fierceness of tormenting flames is qualified and made innoxious by the greater fierceness of his pride : the loss of infinite happi- ness to himself, is compensated in thought by the power of inflicting infinite misery on others. Yet, Satan is not the principle of malignity, or of the ab- stract love of evil, but of the abstract love of power, of pride, of self-will personified, to which last principle all other good and evil, and even his own, are subordinate. He expresses the sum and substance. of ambition in one line, u Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable, doing or suffering." He founds a new empire in Hell, and from it conquers this new world, whithei he bends his undaunted flight, forcing his way through nether and surround- ing fires. The Achilles of Homer is not more distinct ; the Titans were not more vast ; Prometheus, chained to his rock, was not a more terrific example of suffering and of crime. Wherever the figure of Satan is introduced, whether he walks or flies, " rising aloft incumbent on the dusky air," it is illustrated with the most striking and appropriate images: so that we see it always before us, gigantic, irregular, portentous, uneasy, and disturbed, but dazzling in its faded splendor, the clouded ruins of a god. The deformity of Satan if only in the depravity of his will ; he has no bodily deformity, to excite our loathing or disgust. ' Not only the figure of Satan, but his speeches in council, his soliloquies, his address to Eve, his share in the war in heaven, show the same decided superiority of character." HAZX.ITT. Another sketch of Satan may be found at the close of Book III., from the dashing pen of Gilfillan. Hazlitt, in the above sketch of Milton's Satan, had no authority for saying that he was not a personification of malice, but, simply, of pride and self- will: this will appear on referring to Book I. 215-17; Book V. 666; Book VI 151, 270 ; Book IX. 126, 134. BOOK II. THE ARGUMENT. THE consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven ; some advise it, others dissuade ; a third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in Heaven concerning another world, and another kind of creature, equal or not much inferior to themselves, about this time to be created : their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search : Satan, their chief, undertakes alone the voyage, is honoured and applauded. The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their inclinations lead them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell-gates, finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them, by whom at length they are opened, and discover to him the great gulf between Hell and Heaven ; with what difficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos, the power of that place, to the sight of this uew world which he sought. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. In tracing the progress of this poem by deliberate and minute steps, oui wonder and admiration increase. The inexhaustible invention-continues to grow ujon us ; each page, each line, is pregnant with something new, pic- turesque, and great ; the coiulensity of the n alter is without any parallel; the imagination often contained in a single passage, is more than equal to all that secondary poets have produced. The foble of the voyage through Chaos is alone a sublime poem. Milton's descriptions of materiality have always touches of the spiritual, the lofty and the empyreal. Milton has too much condensation to be fluent : a line or two often con- tains a world of images and ideas. He expatiates over all time, all space, all possibilities ; he unites Earth with Heaven, with Hell, with all intermediate existences, animate and inanimate; and his illustrations are drawn from all learning, historical, natural, and speculative. In him, almost always, " more is meant than meets the eye." An image, an epithet, conveys a rich picture What is the subject of observation, may be told without genius; but the wonder and the greatness lie in invention, if the invention be noble, and ac- cording to the principles of possibility. Who could have conceived, or. if conceived, who could have described the voyage of Satan through Chaos, but Milton? Who could have invented so many distinct ami grand obstacles in his way, and all picturesqu . all poetical, and all the topics of intellectual meditati n and reflection, or of spiritual sentiment. All the faculties of the mind are exercised, stretched and elevated at once by every page of Paradise Lost. That Milton could bring so much learning, as well as so much imaginative invention, to bear on every part of his infi- nitely-extended, yet thick-compacted story, is truly miraculous. Were the learning superficial and loosely applied, the wonder would not be great, or not nearly >o great; but it is always profound, solid, conscientious ; and in iU combinations original. . B. BOOK II. HIGH on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Sbow'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 5 To that bad eminence ; and from despair Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue Vain war with Heaven : and, by success untaught. His proud imaginations thus display'd : Pow'rs and Dominions, Deities of Heaven, 1. Throne, $c. : "The all-enduring, all-defying pride of Satan, assuming so majestically Hell's burning throne, and coveting the diadem which scorches his thunder-blasted brow, is a creation requiring in its author almost