Boreas and Cæcias and Argestes loud Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first Death introduc'd through fierce antipathy: 700 705 Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl, 710 And fish with fish; to graze the herb all leaving, 699. Boreas] The north wind, Cacias the north-west. Argestes the north-east. Thrascias blowing from Thrace northward of Greece. Notus the south wind. Afer or Africus, the south-west from Africa, Notusque ruunt creberque procellis Africus. Virg. Æn. i. 85. From Serraliona or Lion Mountains; a range of mountains so called because of the perpetual storms there roaring like a lion. These are to the south-west of Africa, within a few leagues of Cape Verd, the western point. Eurus and Zephyr the east and west, called also Levant and Ponent winds, (rising and setting,) the one blowing from whence the sun rises, the other whence it sets. Sirocco ventus Syrus, the south-east; and Libecchio ventus Lybicus, the south-west: Italian terms used by seamen of the Mediterranean. Hume and Richardson. In this account of the winds is a needless ostentation of learning, and a strange mixture of ancient and modern Latin and Italian names together. These are the foibles and weak parts of our author, and of these it may too truly be said, Such labour'd nothings, in so strange 711. to graze the herb all leaving, &c.] The word all here makes strange sense of this passage, since according to common construction it implies that beasts, fowl, and fish, all grazed before the fall, and immediately after it began all to prey upon each other, neither of which could possibly be Milton's meaning. How to restore the true reading I Devour'd each other; nor stood much in awe Of Man, but fled him, or with count'nance grim do not pretend to determine, but the following lines seem to confine the devouring to the beasts, and might not therefore the word those be substituted in the place of all? Thyer. Whether Milton's notion was right or not is another question, but certainly it was his notion that beast, fowl, and fish grazed the herb before the fall. Of the beasts there can be no doubt; and the fowl have the green herb given them for meat as well as the beasts. Gen. i. 30. And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, I have given every green herb for meat. And the goose particularly is by the poet who has best imitated Milton called close-grazer. Philips's Cyder, b. i. -On the barren heath turf Sufficient; after them the cackling goose, Close-grazer, finds wherewith to ease her want. The greatest difficulty is with regard to the fish, but of these Milton says expressly, vii. 404. that they Graze the sea weed their pasture 715 And therefore according to this notion it may be said of fowl and fish as well as beasts, -to graze the herb all leaving, Devour'd each otherBut all here is not all and every one in particular, but only all in general. Fowl prey upon fowl, and fish upon fish, as much as beast upon beast. Beast, fowl, and fish, all the three kinds, though not all of the three kinds, devour each other. 713. or with count'nance grim Glar'd on him passing.] Palpably taken from Shakespeare, Julius Cæsar, act i. s. 4. Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint. O miserable of happy! is this the end A metaphor taken from a ship in a tempest, unlading, disburdening to preserve itself from sinking by its weight. Richardson. The wicked are like the troubled sea, Isa. lvii. 20. Greenwood. 720. O miserable of happy! &c.] The parts of Adam and Eve, or the human persons, come next under our consideration. Milton's art is no where more shown than in his conducting the parts of these our first parents. The representation he gives of them, without falsifying the story, is wonderfully contrived to influence the reader with pity and compassion towards them. Though Adam involves the whole species in misery, his crime proceeds from a weakness which every man is inclined to pardon and commiserate, as it seems rather the frailty of human nature, than of the who offended. Every person one is apt to excuse a fault which he himself might have fallen into. It was the excess of love for Eve that ruined Adam and his posterity. I need not add, that the author is justified in this particular by many of the fathers, and the most orthodox writers. Milton has by this means filled a great part of his poem with that kind of writing which the French critics call the tender, and which is in a particular manner engaging to all sorts of readers. Adam and Eve, in the book we are now considering, are likewise drawn 720 with such sentiments, as do not only interest the reader in their afflictions, but raise in him the most melting passions of humanity and commiseration. When Adam sees the several changes in nature produced about him, he appears in a disorder of mind suitable to one who had forfeited both his innocence and his happiness; he is filled with horror, remorse, despair; in the anguish of his heart he expostulates with his Creator for having given him an unasked existence. Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me Man? &c. He immediately after recovers doom to be just, and begs that from his presumption, owns his the death which is threatened him be inflicted on him, may -why delays His hand to execute what his decree This whole speech is full of the like emotion, and varied with all those sentiments which we may suppose natural to a mind so broken and disturbed. I must not omit that generous concern which our first father shews in it for his posterity, and which is so proper to affect the reader. Who can afterwards behold the father of mankind extended upon the earth, uttering his midnight complaints, bewailing his existence, and wishing for death, without sympathizing with him in his distress? Addison. Of this new glorious world, and me so late Is propagated curse. O voice once heard Now death to hear! for what can I increase Who of all ages to succeed, but feeling On me as on their natural centre light 725 730 735 740 728. All that I eat or drink, and catching at trifles, quirks, jingles, and other such prettinesses. He censures him, as Mr. Addison had done before, for using such low phrases, as, For this we may thank Adam; and then for soaring so high inter nubes et inania; refluxes and natural centres; heavy, though in their place. Adam, it seems, was already a Peripatetic in his notions; he supposes here, that elementary bodies do not gravitate in their natural places; not air in air, not water in water: from which he fetches Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 745 750 755 of the poem, and especially into so fine a speech as this before us, and all that we can say for them is, Aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus. a pretty lamentation. That con- 758. Thou didst &c.] The change of persons, sometimes speaking of himself in the first and sometimes to himself in the second, is very remarkable in this speech, as well as the change of passions. And in like manner he speaks sometimes of God and sometimes to |