In mentioning the imperfect rudiments of Paradise Lost, Johnson says very justly, "It is pleasant to see great works in their seminal state, pregnant with latent possibilities of excellence; nor could there be any more delightful entertainment than to trace their gradual growth and expansion and to observe how they are sometimes suddenly advanced by accidental hints, and sometimes slowly improved by steady meditation." Such entertainment would indeed be peculiarly delightful in respect to Milton. It is in some measure beyond our reach, because, if we except his sketches of plans for an allegorical drama, no real evidence is left concerning the origin and progress of his magnificent conception: but supposition is often a pleasant substitute for absolute knowledge; and in the hope that it may prove so in the present case, let me advance in this shadowy research, and after accounting for the first flashes of Milton's subject on his fancy, pursue the vein of conjecture, in considering various ideas D d

VOL I.

that might influence him in the prosecution of his work.

When Adam engaged the fancy of Milton, however that personage might first be impressed upon it as a subject of verse, many circumstances might conspire to-confirm his ascendency. The work of different arts, which the poet surveyed in his travels had, perhaps, a considerable influence in attaching his imagination to our first parents. He had most probably contemplated them not only in the colors of Michael Angelo, who decorated Rome with his picture of the creation, but in the marble of Bandinelli, who had executed two large statues of Adam and Eve, which, though they were far from satisfying the taste of connoisseurs, might stimulate even by their imperfections the genius of a poet. In 'recollecting how painting and sculpture had both exercised their respective powers on these hallowed and interesting characters, the muse of Milton might be tempted to contend with the sister arts. I must confess, however,

that Richardson, a fond idolater of these arts and of Milton, is rather inclined to be. lieve that they did not much occupy the attention of the poet, even during his residence in Italy: yet I am persuaded he must have been greatly struck by the works of Michael Angelo, a genius whom he resembled so much in his grand characteristic, mental magnificence! and to whom he was infinitely superior in the attractive excellencies of delicacy and grace. In touching on a point of resemblance between the poet and this pre-eminent artist, we cannot fail to observe the abundance and variety of charms in the poetry of Milton. All the different perfections, which are assigned as characteristics to the most celebrated painters, are united in this marvellous poet. He has the sublime grandeur of Michael Angelo, the chaste simplicity of Raphael, the sweetness of Correggio, and the richness of Rubens. In his Samson we may admire the force of Rembrandt, and in his Comus the grace and gaiety of Albano and Poussin in short, there is no charm exhibited by painting,

which his poetry has failed to equal, as far as analogy between the different arts can extend. If Milton did not pay much attention in his travels to those works of the great painter, that he had opportunities of surveying (which I cannot think probable) it is certain that his own works afford a most excellent field to exercise and animate the powers of the pencil.* The article in which I apprehend a painter must find it

* The learned, ingenious, enthusiastic Winckelman has advanced, in his most celebrated work, a very different opinion; but the ardour with which this extraordinary man, had studied and idolized the antients, rendered him deplorably presumptuous and precipitate in several of his ideas relating to modern genius, and particularly in what he has asserted of Milton. Some passionate admirers of antiquity seem to lament the fall of paganism, as fatal to poetry, to painting, and to sculpture; but a more liberal and enlightened spirit of criticism may rather believe, what it is very possible, I apprehend, to demonstrate, that Christianity can hardly be more favorable to the purity of morals, than it might be rendered to the perfection of these delightful arts. Milton himself may be regarded as an obvious and complete proof that the position is true as far as poetry is concerned. In what degrees the

most difficult to equal the felicity of the poet is, the delineation of his apostate angels. Here, perhaps, poetry has some important advantage over her sister art; and even poetry herself is considered by austerer critics as unequal to the task. Johnson regarded the book of Paradise Lost, which describes the war of Heaven, as fit to be "the favorite of children."-Imagination itself may be depreciated, by the austerity of logic, as a childish faculty, but those who love even its excesses may be allowed to exult in its delights. No reader truly poetical ever perused the sixth book of Milton, without enjoying a kind of transport, which a stern logician might indeed condemn, but which he might also think it more desirable to share. I doubt not, but while Milton was revolving his subject in his mind, he often heard from critical acquaint

influence of the Christian religion can affect the other two, it may be pleasing, and perhaps useful, to consider in some future composition devoted to their advance

ment.