Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume, a verse of Homer, so much ad- Όττι τοι εν μεγάροισι κακον τ' αγαθοντε TETURTAS. Bentley. 194. Is the prime wisdom; what is more, is fume, &c.] An excellent piece of satire this, and a fine reproof of those men who have all sense but common sense, and whose folly is truly represented in the story of the philosopher, who while he was gazing at the stars fell into the ditch. Our author in these lines, as Mr. Thyer imagines, might probably have in his eye the character of Socrates, who first attempted to divert his countrymen from their airy and chimerical notions about the origin of things, and turn their attention to that prime wisdom, the consideration of moral duties, and their conduct in social life. 204.-now hear me relate My story,] Adam, to detain the angel, enters upon his own history, and 195 200 relates to him the circumstances in which he found himself upon his creation; as also his conversation with his Maker, and his first meeting with Eve. There is no part of the poem more apt to raise the attention of the reader, than this discourse of our great ancestor; as nothing can be more surprising and delightful to us, than to hear the sentiments that arose in the first man while he was yet new and fresh from the hands of his Creator. The poet has interwoven every thing which is delivered upon this subject in holy writ with so many beautiful imaginations of his own, that nothing can be conceived more just and natural than this whole episode. As our author knew this subject could not but be agreeable to his reader, he would not throw it into the relation of the six days' works, but reserved it for a distinct episode, that he might have an opportunity of expatiating upon it more at large. Before I enter on this part of the poem, I cannot but take notice of two My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard ; 205 210 Inviting thee to hear while I relate, 211. And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear &c.] The poet had here probably in mind that sage in Virgil, Ecl. v. 45. pas p. 37. 212. fruits of palm-tree] The palm-tree bears a fruit called a date, full of sweet juice, a great restorative to dry and exhausted bodies by augmenting Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine the radical moisture. There is poeta, one kind of it called Palma Quale sopor fessis in gramine: quale Egyptiaca, which from its vir per æstum Dulcis aquæ saliente sitim restin. guere rivo. tue against drought was named Ados, sitim sedans. Hume, To whom thus Raphael answer'd heav'nly meek. 218. Nor are thy lips ungraceful,] Alluding to Ps. xlv. 3. Full of grace are thy lips. 221. Inward and outward both, his image fair:] One would think by this word outward that Milton was of the sect of Anthropomorphites, as well as Materialists. Warburton. 225. Than of our fellow-servant,] So the angel says unto St. John, Rev. xxii. 9. I am thy fellow-servant. 229. For I that day was absent,] The sixth day of creation. Of all the rest, of which he has given an account, he might have been an eye-witness, and speak from his own knowledge: what he has said of this day's work, 220 225 230 of Adam's original, to be sure, he must have had by hear-say or inspiration. Milton had very good reason to make the angel absent now, not only to vary his speaker, but because Adam could best, or only, tell some particulars not to be omitted. Richardson. 231. the gates of hell;] Homer, Iliad. xxiii. 71. wvλas «ïdao. 233. To see that none thence issued forth &c.] As man was to be the principal work of God in this lower world, and (according to Milton's hypothesis) a creature to supply the loss of the fallen angels, so particular care is taken at his creation. The angels on that day keep watch Or enemy, while God was in his work, Lest he incens'd at such eruption bold, Destruction with creation might have mix'd. 235 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut 240 Pleas'd with thy words no less than thou with mine. and guard at the gates of hell, that none may issue forth to interrupt the sacred work. At the same time that this was a very good reason for the angel's absence, it is likewise doing honour to the Man with whom he was conversing. 240. Fast we found, fast shut &c.] There is no question but our poet drew the image in what follows from that in Virgil's sixth book, where Eneas and the Sibyl stand before the adamantine gates, which are there described as shut upon the place of torments, and listen to the groans, the clank of chains, and the noise of iron whips, that were heard in those regions of pain and sorrow. Addison. The reader will not be displeased to see the passage, Æn. vi. 557. 245 Hinc exaudiri gemitus, et sæva so nare Verbera; tum stridor ferri, tractæ que catena: Constitit Æneas, strepitumque exter. ritus hausit. From hence are heard the groans of ghosts, the pains Of sounding lashes and of dragging chains: The Trojan stood astonished at their cries. Dryden. And in like manner Astolfo in Orlando Furioso is represented listening at the mouth of hell, cant. xxxiv. st. 4. L'orecchie attente à lo spiraglio E l'aria ne senti percossa, e rotta cterno, Segno evidente, quivi esser l'inferno. To hearken at the same he waxed bold, And heard most woeful mourning, plaints and cries, Such as from hell were likely to arise. Harrington So spake the godlike pow'r, and thus our sire. Is hard; for who himself beginning knew? In balmy sweat, which with his beams the sun 253. As new wak'd from soundest sleep &c.] Adam then proceeds to give an account of his condition and sentiments immediately after his creation. How agreeably does he represent the posture in which he found himself, the beautiful landscape that surrounded him, and the gladness of heart which grew up in him on that occasion! Adam is afterwards described as surprised at his own existence, and taking a survey of himself, and of all the works of nature. He likewise is represented as discovering by the light of reason, that he and every thing about him must have been the effect of some being infinitely good and powerful, and that this being had a right to his worship and adoration. His first address to the sun and to those parts of the creation which made the most distinguished figure, is very natural and amusing to the imagination. His next sentiment, when upon his first going to sleep he fancies himself losing his existence, and 250 255 falling away into nothing, can never be sufficiently admired. His dream, in which he still preserves the consciousness of his existence, together with his removal into the garden which was prepared for his reception, are also circumstances finely imagined, and grounded upon what is delivered in sacred story. These and the like wonderful incidents in this part of the work have in them all the beauties of novelty, at the same time that they have all the graces of nature. They are such as none but a great genius could have thought of, though, upon the perusal of them, they seem to rise of themselves from the subject of which he treats. In a word, though they are natural, they are not obvious, which is the true character of all fine writing. Addison. 256.reaking] Or reeking is the same as steaming or smoking, from the Saxon Rec smoke. This idea is not the most delicate. |