out of the general trance, with his posture | whom he had involved in the same guilt on the burning lake, his rising from it, and and ruin with himself: the description of his shield and spear: Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate, Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale. His pond'rous shield Ethereal temper, massy, large and round, To which we may add his call to the fallen angels that lay plunged and stupified in the sea of fire: He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep But there is no single passage in the whole poem worked up to a greater sublimity, than that wherein his person is described in those celebrated lines: We shall be free! th' Almighty hath not built Here for his envy; will not drive us hence: Here we may reign secure; and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heav'n. Amidst those impieties which this enraged spirit utters in other places of the poem, the author has taken care to introduce none that is not big with absurdity, and incapable of shocking a religious reader; his 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 frequently confesses his omnipotence, that being the perfection he was forced to allow him, and the only consideration which could support his pride under the shame of his defeat. Nor must I here omit that beautiful circumstance of his bursting out into tears, upon his survey of those innumerable spirits He now prepar'd To speak; whereat their doubled ranks they bend, From wing to wing, and half enclose 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 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 Homer's catalogue of ships, and Virgil's list of warriors, in his view. The characters of Moloch and Belial prepare the reader's mind for their respective speeches and behaviour in the second and sixth book. The account of Thammuz is finely romantic, and suitable to what we read among the ancients of the worship which was paid to that idol: -Thammuz came next behind, The reader will pardon me if I insert as a note on this beautiful passage, the account given us by the late ingenious Mr. Maundrell of this ancient piece of worship, and probably the first occasion of such a superstition. 'We came to a fair large riverdoubtless the ancient river Adonis, so famous for the idolatrous rites performed here in lamentation of Adonis. We had the fortune to see what may be supposed to be the occasion of that opinion which Lucian relates concerning this river, viz. That this stream, at certain seasons of the year, especially about the feast of Adonis, is of a bloody colour; which the heathens looked upon as proceeding from a kind of sympathy in the river for the death of Adonis, who was killed by a wild boar in the mountains, out of which this stream rises. Something like this we saw actually come to pass; for the water was stained to a surprising redness; and, as we observed in travelling, had discoloured the sea a great way into a reddish hue, occasioned doubtless by a sort of minium, or red earth, washed into the river by the violence of the rain, and not by any stain from Adonis's blood.' The passage in the catalogue, explaining the manner how spirits transform themselves by contraction or enlargement of their dimensions, is introduced with great judgment, to make way for several surprising accidents in the sequel of the poem. There follows one at the very end of the first book, which is what the French critics call marvellous, but at the same time pro There are also several noble similes and allusions in the first book of Paradise Lost. And here I must observe, that when Milton alludes either to things or persons, he never quits his simile until it rises to some very bable by reason of the passage last mentioned. As soon as the infernal palace is finished, we are told the multitude and rabble of spirits immediately shrunk themselves into a small compass, that there might be room for such a numberless as-great idea, which is often foreign to the sembly in this capacious hall. But it is the poet's refinement upon this thought which I most admire, and which is indeed very noble in itself. For he tells us, that notwithstanding the vulgar among the fallen spirits contracted their forms, those of the first rank and dignity still preserved their natural dimensions: Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms The character of Mammon, and the description of the Pandemonium are full of beauties. There are several other strokes in the first book wonderfully poetical, and instances of that sublime genius so peculiar to the author. Such is the description of Azazel's stature, and the infernal standard which he unfurls; as also of that ghastly light by which the fiends appear to one another in their place of torments: The seat of desolation, void of light, occasion that gave birth to it. The resemblance does not, perhaps, last above a line or two, but the poet runs on with the hint until he has raised out of it some glorious image or sentiment, proper 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. Those who are acquainted with Homer's and Virgil's way of writing, cannot but be pleased with this kind of structure in Milton's similitudes. I am the more particular on this head, because ignorant readers, who have formed their taste upon the quaint similes and little turns of wit, which are so much in vogue among modern poets, cannot relish these beauties which are of a much higher nature, and are therefore apt to censure Milton's comparisons, in which they do not see any surprising points of likeness. Monsieur Perrault was a man of this vitiated relish, and for that very reason has endeavoured to turn into ridicule several of Homer's similitudes, which he calls 'comparaisons à longue queue,' 'long-tailed comparisons.' I shall conclude this paper on the first book of Milton with the answer which Monsieur Boileau makes to Perrault on this occasion: Comparisons,' says he, in odes and epic poems, are not introduced The shout of the whole host of fallen an- only to illustrate and embellish the dis Save what the glimm'ring of those livid flames gels when drawn up in battle array, -The universal host up sent A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 6 course, but to amuse and relax the mind of the reader, by frequently disengaging him from too painful an attention to the principal subject, and by leading him into The review, which the leader makes of other agreeable images. Homer, says he, his infernal army: He through the armed files Darts his experienc'd eye, and soon traverse Their number last he sums; and now his heart The flash of light which appeared upon the drawing of their swords: He spake and to confirm his words out flew excelled in this particular, whose comparisons abound with such images of nature as are proper to relieve and diversify his subjects. He continually instructs the reader, and makes him take notice even in objects which are every day before his eyes, of such circumstances as he should not other wise have observed.' To this he adds, as a maxim universally acknowledged, 'that it is not necessary in poetry for the points of the comparison to correspond with one another exactly, but that a general resemblance is sufficient, and that too much The sudden production of the Pandamo- nicety in this particular savours of the nium: Anon out of the earth a fabric huge -From the arch'd roof Pendent by subtle magic, many a row As from a sky. rhetorician and epigrammatist.' In short, if we look into the conduct of Homer, Virgil, and Milton, as the great fable is the soul of each poem, so, to give their works an agreeable variety, their episodes are so many short fables, and their similes so many short episodes; to which you may add, if you please, that their metaphors are so many short similes. If the reader considers the comparisons in the *Cresset, i. e. a blazing light set on a beacon; in first book of Milton, of the sun in an eclipse, French, croissete, because beacons formerly had crosses on their tops, Johnson, of the sleeping leviathan, of the bees swarming about their hive, of the fairy dance, in A latent fire preys on his fev'rish veins. THE circumstances of my correpondent, whose letter I now insert, are so frequent, that I cannot want compassion so much as to forbear laying it before the town. There is something so mean and inhuman in a direct Smithfield bargain for children, that if this lover carries his point, and observes the rules he pretends to follow, I do not only wish him success, but also that it may animate others to follow his example. I know not one motive relating to this life which could produce so many honourable and worthy actions, as the hopes of obtaining a woman of merit. There would ten thousand ways of industry and honest ambition be pursued by young men, who believed that the persons admired had value enough for their passion, to attend the event of their good fortune in all their applications, in order to make their circumstances fall in with the duties they owe to themselves, their families, and their country. All these relations a man should think of who intends to go into the state of marriage, and expects to make it a state of pleasure and satisfaction. MR. SPECTATOR,-I have for some years indulged a passion for a young lady of age and quality suitable to my own, but very much superior in fortune. It is the fashion with parents (how justly, I leave you to judge,) to make all regards give way to the article of wealth. From this one consideration it is that I have concealed the ardent love I have for her; but I am beholden to the force of my love for many advantages which I reaped from it towards the better conduct of my life. A certain complacency to all the world, a strong desire to oblige wherever it lay in my power, and a circumspect behaviour in all my words and actions, have rendered me more particularly acceptable to all my friends and acquaintance. Love has had the same good effect upon my fortune, as I have increased in riches in proportion to my advancement in those arts which make a man agreeable and amiable. There is a certain sympathy which will tell my mistress from these circumstances, that it is I who writ this for her reading, if you will please to insert it. There is not a downright enmity, but a great coldness between our parents; so that if either of us declared any kind sentiments for each other, her friends would be very backward to lay an obligation upon our family, and mine to receive it from hers. Under these delicate circumstances it is no easy matter to act with safety. I have no reason to fancy my mistress has any regard for me, but from a very disinterested value which I have for her. If from any hint in any future paper of yours she gives me the least encouragement, I doubt not but I shall surmount all other difficulties; and inspired by so noble a motive for the care of my fortune, as the belief she is to be concerned in it, I will not despair of receiving her one sir, your most obedient humble servant, day from her father's own hand. I am, 'CLYTANDER.' To his Worship the Spectator. 'The humble petition of Anthony Titlepage, staticner, in the centre of Lincoln's-Inn Fields; 'Showeth, "That your petitioner, and his forefathers, have been sellers of books for time immemorial: that your petitioner's ancestor, Crouchback Title-page, was the first of that vocation in Britain; who, keeping his station (in fair weather,) at the corner of Lothbury, was, by way of eminency, called "The Stationer," a name which, from him all succeeding booksellers have affected to bear: that the station of your petitioner and his father has been in the place of his present settlement ever since that square has been built: that your petitioner has formerly had the honour of your worship's custom, and hopes you never had reason to complain of your penny-worths: that particularly he sold you your first Lilly's Grammar, and at the same time a Wit's Commonwealth, almost as good as new: moreover, that your first rudimental essays in spectatorship, were made in your petitioner's shop, where you often practised for hours together; sometimes on his books upon the rails, sometimes on the little hieroglyphics, either gilt, silvered, or plain, which the Egyptian woman on the other side of the shop had wrought in gingerbread, and sometimes on the English youths, who in sundry places there, were exercising themselves in the traditional sports of the field. 'From these considerations it is, that your petitioner is encouraged to apply himself to you, and to proceed humbly to acquaint your worship, that he has certain intelligence that you receive great numbers of defamatory letters designed by their authors to be published, which you throw aside and totally neglect: Your petitioner therefore prays, that you will please to bestow on him those refuse letters, and he hopes by printing them to get a more plentiful provision for his family; or, at the worst, he may be allowed to sell them by the pound weight to his good customers the pastry-cooks of London and Westminster. 'And your petitioner shall ever pray, &c." To the Spectator. parish of St. Martin's in the Fields, in academy for politics, of which the Marquis behalf of himself and neighbours; Showeth, de Torcy, minister and secretary of state, is to be protector. Six academicians are to for beginning to form this academy, into be chosen, endowed with proper talents, which no person is to be admitted under wise have each of them an estate of two twenty-five years of age: they must like That your petitioners have, with great industry and application, arrived at the most exact art of invitation or intreaty: that by a beseeching air and persuasive address, they have for many years last past peace-thousand livres a year, either in possession, ably drawn in every tenth passenger, whether they intended or not to call at their shops, to come in and buy; and from that softness of behaviour have arrived, among tradesmen, at the gentle appellation of "The Fawners." That there have of late set up amongst us.certain persons from Monmouth-street and Long-lane, who by the strength of their arms, and loudness of their throats, draw off the regard of all passengers from your said petitioners; from which violence they are distinguished by the name of "The Worriers." or to come to them by inheritance. The king will allow to each a pension of a thouable masters to teach them the necessary sand livres. They are likewise to have sciences, and to instruct them in all the which have been made in several ages treaties of peace, alliance, and others, past. These members are to meet twice a week at the Louvre. From this seminary who by degrees may advance to higher are to be chosen secretaries to embassies, employments. Cardinal Richelieu's politics made France have appeared in that nation of late years the terror of Europe. The statesmen who That while your petitioners stand ready to receive passengers with a submissive bow, and repeat with a gentle voice, "La-have, on the contrary, rendered it either dies, what do you want? pray look in here;" The cardinal erected that famous academy the pity or contempt of its neighbours. the worriers reach out their hands at pistol-shot, and seize the customers at arms' which has carried all the parts of polite length. learning to the greatest height. His chief design in that institution was to divert the men of genius from meddling with politics, a province in which he did not care to have any one else interfere with him. On the contrary, the Marquis de Torcy seems France as wise as himself, and is therefore resolved to make several young men in taken up at present in establishing a nursery of statesmen. That while the fawners strain and relax the muscles of their faces, in making distinction between a spinster in a coloured scarf and a handmaid in a straw hat, the worriers use the same roughness to both, and prevail upon the easiness of the passengers, to the impoverishment of your petitioners. "Your petitioners therefore most humbly pray, that the worriers may not be permitted to inhabit the politer parts of the town; and that Round-court may remain a receptacle for buyers of a more soft edu cation. also be erected a seminary of petticoat poliSome private letters add, that there will ticians, who are to be brought up at the feet of Madame de Maintenon, and to be despatched into foreign courts upon any emergencies of state; but as the news of this last project has not been yet confirmed, I shall take no further notice of it. Several of my readers may doubtless remember that upon the conclusion of the last war, which had been carried on so successfully by the enemy, their generals were many of them transformed into ambassa No. 305.] Tuesday, February 19, 1711-12. dors; but the conduct of those who have com Non tali auxilio, nec defensoribus istis OUR late newspapers being full of the project now on foot in the court of France, for establishing a political academy, and I myself having received letters from several virtuosos among my foreign correspondents, which give some light into that affair, I intend to make it the subject of this day's speculation. A general account of this project may be met with in the Daily Courant of last Friday, in the following words, translated from the Gazette of Amsterdam. Paris, February 12. It is confirmed that the king is resolved to establish a new manded in the present war, has, it seems, brought so little honour and advantage to their great monarch, that he is resolved to trust his affairs no longer in the hands of those military gentlemen. The regulations of this new academy very much deserve our attention. The students are to have in possession, or reversion, an estate of two thousand French livres, per annum, which, as the present exchange runs, will amount to at least one hundred and twenty-six pounds English. This, with the royal allowance of a thou sand livres, will enable them to find themselves in coffee and snuff; not to mention newspapers, pens and ink, wax and wafers, with the like necessaries for politicians, A man must be at least five-and-twenty | that which it lays upon his most christian before he can be initiated into the mysteries majesty. He is likewise to teach them the of this academy, though there is no question but many grave persons of a much more advanced age, who have been constant readers of the Paris Gazette, will be glad to begin the world anew, and enter themselves upon this list of politicians. The society of these hopeful young gentlemen is to be under the direction of six professors, who, it seems, are to be speculative statesmen, and drawn out of the body of the royal academy. These six wise masters, according to my private letters, are to have the following parts allotted to them. The first is to instruct the students in state legerdemain; as how to take off the impression of a seal, to split a wafer, to open a letter, to fold it up again, with other the like ingenious feats of dexterity and art. When the students have accomplished themselves in this part of their profession, they are to be delivered into the hands of their second instructor, who is a kind of posture-master. This artist is to teach them how to nod judiciously, and shrug up their shoulders in a dubious case, to connive with either eye, and, in a word, the whole practice of political grimace. art of finding flaws, loop-holes, and evasions, in the most solemn compacts, and particularly a great rabbinical secret, revived of late years by the fraternity of Jesuits, namely, that contradictory interpretations of the same article may both of them be true and valid. When our statesmen are sufficiently improved by these several instructors, they are to receive their last polishing from one who is to act among them as master of the ceremonies. This gentleman is to give them lectures upon the important points of the elbow-chair and the stair-head, to instruct them in the different situations of the right hand, and to furnish them with bows and inclinations of all sizes, measures, and proportions. In short, this professor is to give the society their stiffening, and infuse into their manners that beautiful political starch, which may qualify them for levees, conferences, visits, and make them shine in what vulgar minds are apt to look upon as trifles. I have not yet heard any further particulars which are to be observed in this society of unfledged statesmen; but I must confess, had I a son of five-and-twenty, that should take it into his head at that age to set up for a politician, I think I should go near to disinherit him for a blockhead. Besides, I should be apprehensive lest the same arts which are to enable him to negociate between potentates, might a little infect his ordinary behaviour between man and man. There is no question but these young Machiavels will in a little time turn their college upside down with plots and stratagems, and lay as many schemes to circumvent one another in a frog or a salad, as they may hereafter put in practice to overreach a neighbouring prince or state. The third is a sort of language-master, who is to instruct them in the style proper for a minister in his ordinary discourse. And to the end that this college of statesmen may be thoroughly practised in the political style, they are to make use of it in their common conversations, before they are employed either in foreign or domestic affairs. If one of them asks another what o'clock it is, the other is to answer him indirectly, and, if possible, to turn off the question. If he is desired to change a louis d'or, he must beg time to consider of it. If it be inquired of him, whether the king is at Versailles or Marly, he must answer in a whisper. If he be asked the news of the We are told that the Spartans, though last Gazette, or the subject of a proclama- they punished theft in the young men when tion, he is to reply that he has not yet read it was discovered, looked upon it as honourt; or if he does not care for explaining able if it succeeded. Provided the conveyhimself so far, he needs only draw his brow ance was clean and unsuspected, a youth up in wrinkles, or elevate the left shoulder. might afterwards boast of it. This, say the The fourth professor is to teach the whole historians, was to keep them sharp, and to art of political characters and hierogly-hinder them from being imposed upon, phics; and to the end that they may be perfect also in this practice, they are not to send a note to one another (though it be but to borrow a Tacitus or a Machiavel) which is not written in cypher. Their fifth professor, it is thought, will be chosen out of the society of Jesuits, and is to be well read in the controversies of probable doctrines, mental reservation, and the rights of princes. This learned man is to instruct them in the grammar, syntax, and construing part of Treaty Latin: how to distinguish between the spirit and the letter, and likewise demonstrate how the same form of words may lay an obligation upon any prince in Europe, different from either in their public or private negotiations. Whether any such relaxations of morality, such little jeux d'esprit, ought not to be allowed in this intended seminary of politicians, I shall leave to the wisdom of their founder. In the mean-time we have fair warning given us by this doughty body of statesmen: and as Scylla saw many Marius's in Cæsar, so I think we may discover many Torcy's in this college of academicians. Whatever we think of ourselves, I am afraid neither our Smyrna nor St. James's will be a match for it. Our coffee-houses are, indeed, very good institutions; but whether or no these our British schools of politics may furnish |
