Back to the gates of heaven: the sulphurous hail Of heaven received us falling; and the thunder, Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, What reinforcement we may gain from hope; "Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the waves; and eyes That sparkling blaz'd, his other parts besides This passage is throughout sublime. The grandeur and correspondent harmony of the numbers are wonderful. No comment is necessary to point out its particular excellence. We see in it all the fallen greatness of "the Arch-angel,” and the inventive rebellion of his heart. t Though Paradise Regained is eclipsed by the superior lustre of Paradise Lost; yet it contains many eminent beauties. Had it been written by any other pen than Milton's, it would perhaps be been more read, and been more celebrated the voice of criticism, having ranked it far beneath the other great work of its author, it is now doomed, with Homer's Odyssey, to a partial oblivion. deserves not this fate; for it is still the strain of Milton, which, like Apollo's lyre, has descended from the heavens. The following passage will shew if these remarks be just. It presents a picture of our Saviour, amid the terrors of the wilder It ness, still pursued by the temptation and malice of Satan. Though the whole of the passage is highly admirable, yet there are two lines, marked in italics, in which centres its principal grandeur. .........................................“ Darkness now rose, As day-light sunk, and brought in low'ring night Our Saviour meek and with untroubled mind Whose branching arms thick intertwin'd might • shield, From dews and damps of night, his shelter'd head, But shelter'd slept in vain; for at his head The tempter watch'd and soon with ugly dreams Disturb'd his sleep; and either tropic now Gan thunder, and both ends of heaven the clouds From many a horrid rift abortive pour'd Fierce rain with lightning mixt, water with fire In ruin reconcil'd: Nor slept the winds Unshaken; nor yet staid the terror there, Infernal ghosts, and hellish furies, round Environ'd thee, some howl'd some yell'd, some shriek'd. Some bent at thee their fiery darts; while the Thus pass'd the night so foul, till morning fair PARADISE REGAINED, B. IV. Homer in age and sublimity in action, approaches nearer than any other poet to the inspired writers. Early criticism has frowned upon him in vain. Time has increased the veneration bestowed upon his name. Since he sang to his harp, ages have rolled on; heard his song and admired. His faults have been called blots in the sun, which can scarcely be discovered amid the continued glory of his beams. From his Iliad it is difficult to select a passage to which preference should be given. The battle of the gods, the interview of Priam and Achilles, the night-scene, the combat of Hector and Ajax, and the apparition of Patroclus, have generally obtained the highest ed of praise. I offer the following passage, ch has been less frequently noticed than those which have been mentioned, but which is undoubtedly equal to either of them, in most characteristics of Genius. It is the description of Achilles, after his reconciliation with Agamemnon, preparing for battle. Full in the midst, high-tow'ring o'er the rest, His limbs in arms divine Achilles drest; Forg'd on the eternal anvils of the God. |