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"Paradise Regained," Satan appears before us in council again, but his form and the discourses of his co-mates have lost all their original brightness. Belial sinks into the mere sensualist, very different from the lofty but egotistic intellectualism to which we listened upon another great occasion. But if this production of Milton is inferior to "Paradise Lost," it is not wanting in poetry and fancy abundantly sufficient to immortalise an humbler bard. It has more nakedness of character—a rugged indifference: the condensed phraseology of its companion we do not often find, but the scholar shines here as of old; the fancies of the old poetic mythologies sport about; Grecian and Roman story are still more frequently called upon for appropriate hints or more extended pictures; while the great contest between the Saviour and Satan goes on,—the glorious eremite, in many an affecting position, appealing to our admiration, our affection, and our love; and Satan as frequently kindling our hatred or our scorn. Innumerable passages of extraordinary beauty might be quoted. The various methods of Satanic enchantment are placed with great art and skill. The table spread before our Saviour, when hungered in the wilderness—the pouring of the hosts of light-armed troops through the brilliant cities, —the cities of the earth themselves—Athens, the seat of intellectual glory—all are vividly described; while the replies of the Saviour to the panegyrics of the fiend are remarkable for the plainness and the force of their reasoning. One thing must be especially noticed throughout—the language of Satan is never simple, but always rich, highly-coloured, pictorial, and scholarly: the Saviour's in reply, is ever Hebraistic and plain. Let the following be taken as a specimen of the conduct of the various dialogues. "Behold," says Satan,—

"Where on the .<Egean shore a city stands,
Built nobly, pure the air and light the soil,
Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts
And eloquence, native to famous wits,
And hospitable, in her sweet recess,
City or suburban, studious walks and shades;
See there the olive grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird
Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long;
There flow'ry hill Hymettus, with the sound
Of bees' industrious murmur, oft invites
To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls J
His whisp'ring stream: within the walls then view
The schools of ancient sages; his who bred
Great Alexander, to subdue the world,
Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:
There shalt thou hear and learn the socrot power
Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit,

By voice or hand, and various-measured verse,
iEolian charms, and Dorian lyric odes."

"Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid
As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest,
Thin sown with aught of profit or delight,
Will far be found unworthy to compare
With Sion's songs, to all true taste excelling,
Where God is praised aright, and godlike men,
The holiest of holies, and his saints;
Such are from God inspired, not such from thee.
Unless where moral virtue is express'd
By the light of Nature, not in all quite lost.
Their orators thou then extoll'st, as those
The top of eloquence, statists indeed,
And lovers of their country, as may seem;
But herein to our prophets far beneath
As men divinely taught, and better teaching
The solid rules of civil government,
In their majestic, unaffected style,
Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome.
In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt,
What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so,—
What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat;
These only with our law best form a king."

The Saviour's night in the wilderness, after the departure of Satan, is a powerful piece of life painting. The winds rushing from their stony caves from the four hinges of the world; the rain mingled with fire, falling on the vexed wilderness; while infernal ghosts, let loose from their dens, yelling and howling around, hurl their fiery darts.

"111 wast thou shrouded then,
0 patient Son of God, yet only stoodst
Unshaken— ....

Sats't unappalled, in calm and sinless peace,
.... till Morning fair

Came forth with pilgrim steps, in amice grey,
Who with her radiant finger still'd the rear
Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid thejwinda
And grisly spectres."

The " Paradise Regained" is like some wonderful allegory, which man must read by his life experience. The temptations of the Saviour, it is easy to see, were regarded as the temptations common to us all—those of depraving sensualism, of glory, and of literary and intelLctual vanity.

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CHAPTER XVII.

Milton's Ecclesiastical Polity.

Milton did not love bishops; he did not regard episcopacy, as an institution, with love and approbation; he had no friendly feelings toward established religions. Our English Reformation stopped far too short for him; he could not tolerate a sensual religion; and all that he beheld in the episcopacy of his times, tended only to bury the spiritual beneath the superincumbent weight of observances and forms, "attributing purity or impurity to things indifferent, that they might bring the inward acts of the spirit to the outward and customary eyeservice of the body, as if they could make God earthly and fleshly, because they could not make themselves heavenly and spiritual. They began to draw down all the divine intercourse betwixt God and the soul; yea, the very shape of God himself, into an exterior and bodily form,

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