• also I chearfully granted, for fear of being Father to an

Indian Pagod. Hitherto I found her Demands rose upon · ' every Concession; and had the gone on, I had been ruin. • ed : But by good Fortune, with her third, which was • Peggy, the Height of her Imagination came down to the • Corner of a Venison Pasty, and brought her once even • upon her Knees to gnaw off the Ears of a Pig from the • Spit. The Gratifications of her Palate were easily pre« ferred to those of her Vanity ; and sometimes a Partridge • or a Quail, a Wheat-Ear, or the Pestle of a Lark, were . chearfully purchased ; nay, I could be contented tho’I

were to feed her with green Pease in April, or Cherries in May. But with the Babe she now goes, she is turned Girl again, and fallen to eating of Chalk, pretending " 'twill make the Child's Skin white ; and nothing will • serve her but I must bear her Company, to prevent its. « having a Shade of my Brawn: In this however I have • ventur'd to deny her. No longer ago than yesterday, as • we were coming to Town, ihe saw a parcel of Crows • fo heartily at Breakfast upon a piece of Horse-flesh, that • she had an invincible Desire to partake with them, and • (to my infinite Surprise) begged the Coachman to cut • her off a Slice as if it were for himself, which the Fellow • did ; and as soon as she came home she fell to it with such • an Appetite, that she seemed rather to devour than eat • it. What her next Sally will be, I cannot guess : but in • the mean time my Request to you is, that if there be any « way to come at these wild unaccountable Rovings of • Imagination by Reason and Argument, you'd speedily • afford us your Assistance. This exceeds the Grievance of • Pin-money, and I think in every Settlement there • ought to be a Clause inserted, that the Father should be

antwerable for the Longings of his Daughter. But I • shall impatiently expect your Thoughts in this Matter; 6 and am, SIR,

Your most obliged, and
most faithful humble Servant,

T. B.

• LET me know whether you thirik the next Child o will love Horses as much as Molly does China-Ware,

Saturday,

N° 327. Saturday, March 15.

Major rerum mihi nascitur ordo.

Virg.

TITE were told in the foregoing Book how the evil

W Spirit practised upon Ēve as the lay asleep, in

'' order to inspiré her with Thoughts of Vanity, Pride, and Ambition. The Author, who shews a wonderful Art throughout his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader for the several Occurrences that arise in it, founds, upon the above-mention'd Circumstance, the first Part of the fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking finds E ve still asleep, with an unusual Discomposure in her Looks. The Posture in which he regards her, is de. fcrib'd with a Tenderness not to be express'd, as the Whisper with which he awakens her, is the softest that ever was convey'd to a Lover's Ear.

His wonder was, to find unwaken'd Eve
With Treses discompos’d, and glowing Check,
_4s through unquiet Ref: he on his side
Leaning balf-rais’d, with Looks of cordial Love
Hang over her enamour'd, and beheld
Beauty, which whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar Graces: then, with Voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her Hand soft touching, whisper'd thus: Awake
Mly Fairest, my Espous’d, my latest found,
Heaven's last ben Gift, my ever-new Delight!
Awake: the Morning shines, and the fresh Field
Calls us, we lose the Prime, to mark how spring
Our tended Plants, how blows the Citron Grove,
Il'hat drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy Reed,
How Nature paints her Colours, how the Bee
Siis on the Bloom, extraEting liquid Sweet.

Such whispring rak'd her, but with startled Eye,
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she pake :
VOL. V.

O Sole, in whom my Thoughts find all Repose,
My Glory, my Perfektion! glad I see
Thy Face, and Morn return'd

I cannot but take notice, that Milton, in the Conferences between Adam and Eve, had his Eye very frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in which there is a noble Spirit of Eastern Poetry; and very often not unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is generally placed near the Age of Solomon. I think there is no question but the Poet in the preceding Speech remember'd those two Passages which are spoken on the like Occasion, and fill'd with the same pleasing Images of Nature.

My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my Love, my Fair one, and come away; for lo the Winter is paf, the Rain is over and gone, the Flowers appear on the Earth, the Time of the singing of Birds is come, and the Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree putteth forth her green Figs, and the Vines with the tender Grape give a good Smell. Arise my Love, my Fair one, and come away.

Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field; let us get up early to the Vineyards, let us fee if the Vine flourish, whether the tender Grape appear, and the Pomegranates bud forth. HIS preferring the Garden of Eden to that

Where the Sapient King Held Dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spouse, fhews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his Mind.

EVE's Dream is full of those high Conceits engendring Pride, which, we are told, the Devil endeavoured to instil into her. Of this kind is that Part of it where she fanfies herself awaken'd by Adam in the following beautiful Lines,

Why peep'A thou Eve? now is the pleasant Time,
The cool, the filent, save where Silence yields
To the night warbling Bird, that now a wake
Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd Song ; now reigns
Full orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing Light

Shadowy

Shadowy sets off the Face of things : In vain,
If none regard. Heav'n wakes with all his Eyes,'
Whom to behold but thee, Nature's Desire,
In whose fight all things joy, with Ravishment,
Attracted by thy Beauty fill to gaze !

AN injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk thro' the whole work in such Sentiments as these: But Flattery and Falshood are not the Courtship of Milton's Adam, and could not be heard by Eve in her State of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream produc'd on purpose to taint her Imagination. Other vain Sentiments of the same kind in this Relation of her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho' the Catastrophe of the Poem is finely presaged on this Occasion, the Particulars of it are so artfully shadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which fol, lows in the ninth Book. I shall only add, that tho' the Vision itself is founded upon Truth, the Circumstances of it are full of that Wildness and Inconsistency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, conformable to his superior Character for Wisdom, instructs and comforts Eve upon this occafion.

So chear'd be his fair Spouse, and she was chear'd,
But filently a gentle Tear let fall
From either Eye, and wiped them with her hair ;
Two other precious Drops, that ready food
Each in their crystal Sluice, he ere they fell
Kiss'd, as the gracious Signs of sweet Remorse
And pious Awe, that fear'd to have offended.

THE Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of ono of those Psalms, where, in the overflowings of Gratitude and Praise, the Psalmist calls not only upon the Angels, but upon the most conspicuous Parts of the inanimate Creation, to join with him in extolling their common Maker. Invocations of this nature fill the Mind with glorious Ideas of God's Works, and awaken that Divine Enthusiasm, which is so natural to Devotion. But if this calling upon the dead Parts of Nature, is at all times a proper kind of Worship, it was in a particular manner suitable to our first Parents, who had the Creation fresh upon their Minds, and had not seen the various Dispen

B 2

fations

sations of Providence, nor consequently could be acquainted with those inany Topicks of Praise which might afford Matter to the Devotions of their Posterity. I need not remark the beautiful Spirit of Poetry, which runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holiness of that Re. solution with which it concludes.

HAVING already mentioned those Speeches which are assigned to the Persons in this Poem, I proceed to the Description which the Poet gives of Raphael. His Departure from before the Throne, and his Flight thro' the Choirs of Angels, is finely imaged. As Milton every where fills his Poem with Circumstances that are mare vellous and astonishing, he describes the Gate of Heaven as framed after such a manner, that it open'd of it self upon the Approach of the Angel who was to pass through it.

- 'Till at the Gate
Of Heav'n arriv'd, the Gate felf-open'd wide,
On golden Hinges turning, as by Work
Divine, the Sovereign Archite&i had framed.

THE Poet here seems to have regarded two or three Passages in the 18th Iliad, as that in particular, where speaking of Vulcan, Homer says, that he had made twenty Tripodes running on Golden Wheels; which, upon occation, might go of themselves to the Assembly of the Gods, and, when there was no more Use for them, return again after the same manner. Scaliger has rallied Homer very deyerely upon this point, as M. Dacier has endeavoured to defend it. I will not pretend to determine, whether in this particular of Homer, the Marvellous does not lose light of the Probable. As the miraculous Workmanship of Milton's Gates is not so extraordinary as this of the Tripodes, so I am persuaded he would not have mentioned it, had not he been supported in it by a Passage in the Scripture, which speaks of Wheels in Heaven that had Life in them, and moved of themselves, or stood still, in conformity with the Cherubims, whom they accompanied.

THERE is no question but Milton had this Circumitance in his Thoughts, because in the following Book he describes the Chariot of the Messiah with living Wheels, according to the plan in Ezekiel's Vision.

Forth