this foot Mr. Milton, to grace his Poem, and give room for his Towring Fancy, has gone a length beyond all that ever went before him, since Ovid in his Metamorphosis. He has indeed complimented God Almighty with a flux of lofty words, and great sounds; and has made a very fine Story of the Devil, but he has made a meer je ne scay Quoi of Jesus Christ. In one line he has him riding on a Cherub, and in another sitting on a Throne, both in the very same moment of action. In another place he has brought him in making a Speech to his Saints, when ’tis evident he had none there; for we all know Man was not created till a long while after; and no body can be so dull as to say the Angels may be called Saints, without the greatest absurdity in nature. Besides, he makes Christ himself distinguish them, as in two several Bands, and of differing Persons and Species, as to be sure they are.
Stand still in bright array, ye Saints—
– Here stand,
Ye Angels. —
So that Christ here is brought in drawing up his Army before the last Battle, and making a Speech to them, to tell them they shall only stand by in warlike order, but that they shall have no occasion to fight, for he alone will engage the Rebels. Then in embattling his Legions, he places the Saints here, and the Angels there, as if one were the main Battle of Infantry, and the other the Wings of Cavalry. But who are those Saints? they are indeed all of Milton’s own making; ’tis certain there were no Saints at all in Heaven or Earth at that time; God and his Angels fill’d up the place; and till some of the Angels fell, and Men were created, had liv’d, and were dead, there could have been no Saints there. Saint Abel was certainly the Proto-Saint of all that ever were seen in Heaven, as well as the Proto-martyr of all that have been upon Earth.
Just such another Mistake, not to call it a Blunder, he makes about Hell; which he not only makes local, but gives it a being before the Fall of the Angels; and brings it in opening its mouth to receive them. This is so contrary to the nature of the thing, and so great an absurdity, that no Poetic License can account for it; for tho’ Poesie may form Stories, as Idea and Fancy may furnish Materials, yet Poesy must not break in upon Chronology, and make things which in time were to exist, act before they existed.
Thus a Painter may make a fine piece of Work, the fancy may be good, the strokes masterly, and the beauty of the Workmanship inimitably curious and fine, and yet have some unpardonable improprieties which marr the whole Work. So the famous Painter of Toledo painted the story of the three Wisemen of the East coming to worship, and bring their presents to our Lord upon his birth at Bethlehem, where he represents them as three Arabian or Indian Kings; two of them are white, and one black; But unhappily when he drew the latter part of them kneeling, which to be sure was done after their faces; their legs being necessarily a little intermix’d, he made three black feet for the Negroe King, and but three white feet for the two white Kings, and yet never discover’d the mistake till the piece was presented to the King, and hung up in the great Church. As this is an unpardonable error in Sculpture or Limning, it must be much more so in Poetry, where the Images must have no improprieties, much less inconsistencies.
In a word, Mr. Milton has indeed made a fine Poem, but it is the Devil of a History. I can easily allow Mr. Milton to make Hills and Dales, flowry Meadows and Plains (and the like) in Heaven; and places of Retreat and Contemplation in Hell; tho’ I must add, that it can be allowed to no Poet on Earth but Mr. Milton. Nay, I will allow Mr. Milton, if you please, to set the Angels a dancing in Heaven, lib. v. fo. 138. and the Devils a singing in Hell, lib. i. fo. 44. tho’ they are in short, especially the last, most horrid Absurdities. But I cannot allow him to make their Musick in Hell to be harmonious and charming as he does; such Images being incongruous, and indeed shocking to Nature. Neither can I think we should allow things to be plac’d out of time in Poetry, any more than in History; ’tis a confusion of Images which is allow’d to be disallow’d by all the Criticks of what tribe or species soever in the world, and is indeed unpardonable. But we shall find so many more of these things in Mr. Milton, that really taking notice of them all, would carry me quite out of my way, I being at this time not writing the History of Mr. Milton, but of the Devil: besides, Mr. Milton is such a celebrated Man, that who but he that can write the History of the Devil dare meddle with him?
But to come back to the business. As I had caution’d you against running to Scripture for shelter in cases of difficulty, Scripture weighing very little among the people I am directing my Speech to; so indeed Scripture gives but very little light into any thing of the Devil’s Story before his Fall, and but to very little of it for some time after.
Nor has Mr. Milton said one word to solve the main difficulty (viz.) How the Devil came to fall, and how Sin came into Heaven; how the spotless Seraphic Nature could receive infection, whence the contagion proceeded, what noxious matter could emit corruption there, how and whence any vapour to poison the Angelick Frame could rise up, or how it increas’d and grew up to crime. But all this he passes over, and hurrying up that part in two or three words, only tells us,
– his Pride,
Had cast him out of Heaven with all his Host
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring
He trusted to have equal’d the most High.
His pride! but how came Satan while an Arch-angel to be proud? How did it consist, that Pride and perfect Holiness should meet in the same Person? Here we must bid Mr. Milton good night; for, in plain terms, he is in the dark about it, and so we are all; and the most that can be said, is, that we know the fact is so, but nothing of the nature or reason of it.
But to come to the History: The Angels fell, they sinn’d (wonderful!) in Heaven, and God cast them out; what their sin was is not explicit, but in general ’tis call’d a Rebellion against God; all sin must be so.
Mr. Milton here takes upon him to give the History of it, as particularly as if he had been born there, and came down hither on purpose to give us an account of it; (I hope he is better inform’d by this time;) but this he does in such a manner, as jostles with Religion, and shocks our Faith in so many points necessary to be believ’d, that we must forbear to give up to Mr. Milton, or must set aside part of the sacred Text, in such a manner, as will assist some people to set it all aside.
I mean by this, his invented Scheme of the Son’s being declared in Heaven to be begotten then, and then to be declar’d Generalissimo of all the Armies of Heaven; and of the Father’s Summoning all the Angels of the heavenly Host to submit to him, and pay him homage. The words are quoted already, page 32.
I must own the Invention, indeed, is very fine; the Images exceeding magnificent, the Thought rich and bright, and, in some respect, truly sublime: But the Authorities fail most wretchedly, and the miss-timing of it, is unsufferably gross, as is noted in the Introduction to this Work; for Christ is not declar’d the Son of God but on Earth; ’tis true, ’tis spoken from Heaven, but then ’tis spoken as perfected on Earth; if it was at all to be assign’d to Heaven, it was from Eternity, and there, indeed, his eternal Generation is allow’d; but to take upon us to say, that On a day, a certain day, for so our Poet assumes, lib. v. fol. 137.
– ‘When on a day,
– ‘On such a day
‘As Heaven’s great Year brings forth, the empyreal Host
‘Of Angels by imperial Summons call’d,
‘Forthwith from all the ends of Heaven appear’d.
This is, indeed, too gross; at this meeting he
