Jius Cæfar and the Moor; which infolence his muse, like the other affaffins of Cæfar, feverely revenged on herself *, and not long after her triumph, became her own executioner. Nor is it unworthy our obfervation, that though perhaps no one of our English poets hath excited fo many admirers to imitate his manner, yet I think never any was known to afpire to emulation : even the late ingenious Mr. Philips, who, in the colours of ftyle, came the nearest of all the copiers to resemble the great original, made his diftant advances with a filial reverence; and restrained his ambition within the fame bounds which Lucretius prescribed to his own imitation.

Non ita certandi cupidus, quam propter amorem

Quod TE imitari aveo: quid enim contendat hirundo
Cycnis?

And now, perhaps it may pafs for fiction, what with great veracity 1 affirm to be fact, that MILTON, after having, with much difficulty, prevailed to have this divine poem licensed for the prefs, could fell the copy for no more than fifteen pounds; the payment of which valuable confideration, depended on the fale of three numerous impreffions. So unreafonably may personal prejudice affect the most excellent performances.

About two years after, † together An. atat. 63. with Samfon Agonistes, (a tragedy not unworthy the Grecian ftage, when Athens was in her glory), he published Paradife Regain'd. But, Oh! what a falling off was there!Of which I will fay no more, than that there is fcarcely a more remarkable inftance of the frailty of human reason, than our author gave, in preferring this poem to Paradife Loft; nor a more inftructive caution to the beft writers, to be very diffident in deciding the merit of their own productions.

And thus having attended him to the fixty-fixth year of his age, as clofely as fuch imperfect lights as men of letters and retirement ufually leave to guide our en

Vide Edgar.

+ They were licenfed July 2. 1670; but not printed before the year enfuing.

An. atat. 66

quiry would allow, it now only remains to be recorded, that in the year 1674, the gout put a period to his life, at Bunhill near London; from whence his body was conveyed to St. Giles's church by Cripplegate, where it lies interred in the Chancel; but neither has nor wants a monument to perpetuate his memory.

*

In his youth he is faid to have been extremely handfome: The colour of his hair was a light brown; the fymmetry of his features exact, enlivened with an agreeable air, and a beautiful mixture of fair and ruddy; which occafioned the Marquis of Villa to give his epigram the fame turn of thought, which Gregory, archdeacon of Rome, had employed above a thousand years before, in praifing the amiable complexions of fome English youths, before their convertion to Chriftianity. His ftaturet (as we find it measured by himself) did not exceed the middle fize; neither too lean, nor corpulent His limbs well proportioned, nervous, and active; ferviceable in all refpects to his exercifing the fword, in which he much delighted; and wanting neither skill nor courage to refent an affront from men of the most athletick conftitutions. In his diet he was abftemious; not delicate in the choice of his dishes; and ftrong liquors of all kinds were his averfion. Being too fadly convinced how much his health had suffered by night-ftudies in his younger years, he used to go early (feldom later than nine) to reft, and rofe commonly before five in the morning. It is reported, (and there is a paffage in one of his Latin elegies to countenance the tradition), that his fancy made the happiest flights in the fpring But one of his nephews ufed to deliver it as MILTON's own observation, that his invention was in its highest perfection from September to the vernal equinox. However it was, the great inequalities to be found in his compofures, are incontestable proofs, that, in some seasons, he was but one of the people. When

* Ut mens, forma, decor, facies, mos, fi pietas fic,

Non Anglus, verum hercie angelus ipfe fores.

+ Defenfio fecunda, p. 87. fol.

blindness restrained him from other exercifes, he had a machine to fwing in for the prefervation of his health ; and diverted himself in his chamber with playing on an organ. His deportment was erect, open, affable; his converfation eafy, cheerful, inftruétive; his wit on all occafions at command, facetious, grave, or fatirical, as the fubject required. His judgment, when difengaged from religious and political fpeculations, was juft and penetrating; his apprehenfion quick; his memory tenacious of what he read; his reading only not fo extenfive as his genius, for that was univerfal. And having treafured up fuch immenfe ftore of fcience, perhaps the faculties of his foul grew more vigorous after he was deprived of fight; and his imagination, (naturally fublime, and enlarged by reading romances, of which he was much enamoured in his youth), when it was wholly abftracted from material objects, was more at liberty to make fuch amazing excurfions into the ideal world, when, in compofing his divine work, he was tempted to range

Beyond the visible diurnal sphere.

With fo many accomplishments, not to have had fome faults and misfortunes to be laid in the balance with the fame and felicity of writing Paradise Loft, would have been too great a portion for humanity.

ELIJAH FENTON.

* His Apology for Smeltymnuus, p. 177. fol.

T

HE measure is English heroick verfe without rhyme, as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin; rhyme being no neceffary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verfe, in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous age, to set off wretched matter, and lame metre; graced indeed fince by the ufe of fome famous modern poets, carried away by cuftom; but much to their own vexation, hindrance, and conftraint, to exprefs many things o therwife, and, for the most part, worse than elfe they would have expreffed them. Not without caufe, therefore, fome, both Italian and Spanish poets, of prime note, have rejected rhyme, both in longer and fhorter works, as have alfo long fince our best English tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious ears, trivial, and of no true musical delight; which confifts only in apt numbers, fit quantity of fyllables, and the fenfe variously drawn out from one verfe into another, not in the jingling found of like endings, a fault avoided by the learned ancients both in poetry and all good oratory. This negle&t then of rhyme fo little is to be taken for a defect, though it may feem fo perhaps to vulgar readers, that it rather is to be efteemed an example fet, the firft in English, of ancient liberty recovered to heroick poem, from the troublesome and modern bondage of rhyming.

The ARGUMENT of Book I.

THIS first book proposes, first, in brief, the whole fubject, man's difobedience, and the lofs thereupon of Paradife wherein he was placed: Then touches the prime caufe of his fall, the ferpent, or rather Satan in the Serpent; who, revolting from God, and drawing to his fide many legions of angels, was, by the command of God, driven out of heaven with all his crew, into the great deep. Which action paffed over, the poem haftes into the midst of things, prefenting Satan, with his angels, now fallen into hell, defcribed here not in the centre, (for heaven and earth may be fuppofed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a place of utter darkness, fitlieft called Chaos. Here Satan, with his angels, lying on the burning lake, thunderftruck and aftonished, after a certain space recovers, as from confufion, calls up him who, next in order and dignity, lay by him; they confer of their miferable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the fame manner confounded: they rife; their numbers, array of battie; their chief leaders named, according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan, and the countries adjoining. To thefe Satan directs his speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining heaven; but tells them, laftly, 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 vifible creation, was the opinion of many ancient fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What his affociates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace of Satan, rifes, fuddenly built out of the deep: The infernal peers there fit in council.