Milton was indeed no plagiary, and his nephew of course had no thefts to conceal, it is very remarkable that Philips, giving an account of poets in all languages, omits such of their works as were built on subjects resembling those of his uncle. This omission is not only striking in the brief account he gives of the Latin poets collected by Lauder; it extends to some Italian writers, of whom I shall presently have occasion to speak more at large. Let me first observe, in apology for the omissions of Philips, which are too frequent to be considered as accidental, that he probably chose not to enumerate various poems relating to angels, to Adam, and to Paradise, lest ignorance and malice should absurdly consider the mere existence of such poetry as a derogation from the glory of Milton. That Philips had himself no inconsiderable share of

poetical taste, and that he was laudably zealous for the honor of his uncle, appears, I think from the following remarks, which I transcribe with pleasure, from his preface to the little book I am speaking of, as they seem

to contain an oblique and graceful com ment to his renowned relation:" A p ical fancy is much seen in a choice of v proper to a chosen subject.

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Wit, ingenuity, and learning in ve even elegance itself, though that co nearest, are one thing, true native poet another, in which there is a certain air spirit, which, perhaps, the most learned judicious in other arts do not perfectly prehend, much less is it attainable by study or industry."

This certain air and spirit are assu most conspicuous in Milton: he was a of nature's creation, but one who adde all her endowments every advantage study could acquire.

By the force and opulence of his fancy he was exempted from the inclin and the necessity of borrowing and reta the ideas of other poets; but, rich as he in his own proper fund, he chose to be fectly acquainted, not only with the we but even with the poverty of others. seems to have read, in different langu

authors of every class; and I doubt not, but he had perused every poem collected by Lauder, though some of them hardly afford ground enough for a conjecture, that he remembered any passage they contain, in the course of his nobler composition. Johnson in his preface to Lauder's pamphlet, represents the Adamus Exul of Grotius as "the first draught, the prima stamina of the Paradise Lost." The same critic observes, in touching on this subject, in his Life of Milton" Whence he drew the original design has been variously conjectured by men, who cannot bear to think themselves ignorant of that, which, at last, neither diligence nor sagacity can discover. Some find the hint in an Italian tragedy. Voltaire tells a wild, unauthorized story of a farce seen by Milton in Italy, which opened thus: Let the rainbow be the fiddle-stick of the fiddle of heaven.'

The critic was perfectly right in relinquishing his former idea concerning Adamus Exul of Grotius; but, in his remark on Voltaire, he shews how dan

gerous it is to censure any writer for what he says concerning books, which the censurer has no opportunity of examining. Voltaire, indeed, from his predominant passion for ridicule, and from the rash vivacity, that often led him to speak too confidently of various works from a very slight inspection of their contents, is no more to be followed implicitly in points of criticism, than he is on the more important article of religion; but his opinions in literature are generally worth examination, as he possessed no common degree of taste, a perpetual thirst for universal knowledge, and, though not the most intimate, yet, perhaps, the most extensive acquaintance with literary works and literary men that was ever acquired by any individual.

When Voltaire visited England in the early part of his life, and was engaged in soliciting a subscription for his Henriade, which first appeared under the title of "The League," he published, in our language, an Essay on Epic Poetry, a work which, though written under such a disadvantage,

possesses the peculiar vivacity of this extraordinary writer, and is indeed so curious a specimen of his versatile talents, that although it has been superseded by a French composition of great extent, under the same title, it ought, I think, to have found a place in that signal monument to the name of Voltaire, the edition of his works in ninety-. two volumes.

As my

reader may be gratified in seeing the English style of this celebrated foreigner, I will transcribe, without abridgment, what he says of Andreini;

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Milton, as he was travelling through Italy in his youth, saw at Florence a comedy called Adamo, writ by one Andreini, a player, and dedicated to Mary de Medicis, Queen of France. The subject of the play, was the Fall of Man; the actors, God, the devils, the angels, Adam, Eve, the Serpent, Death, and the seven mortal sins; that topic, so improper for a drama, but so suitable to the absurd genius of the Italian stage (as it was at that time) was handled in a manner entirely conformable to the ex