Milton has fo very much enriched, and in fome places darkened, the language of his Poem, was the more proper for his ufe, because his Poem is written in blank verfe. Rhyme, without any other affiftance, throws the language off from profe, and very often makes an indifferent phrase pass unregarded; but where the verse is not built upon rhymes, there pomp of found, and energy of expreffion, are indispensably necessary to support the style, and keep it from falling into the flatnefs of prose.

Those who have not a tafte for this elevation of Style, and are apt to ridicule a poet when he goes out of the common forms of expreffion, would do well to fee how Aristotle has treated an ancient author, called Euclid, for his infipid mirth upon this occafion. Mr. Dryden used to call this fort of men his profe critics.

I should, under this head of the Language, confider Milton's Numbers, in which he has made ufe of several elifions that are not customary among other English poets, as may be particularly observed in his cutting off the letter r, when it precedes a vowel. This, and fome other innovations in the measure of his verfe, has varied his Numbers in fuch a manner as makes them incapable of fatiating the ear and cloying the reader, which the fame uniform measure would certainly have done, and which the perpetual returns of rhyme never fail to do in long narrative poems. I fhall close these reflections upon the Language of Pa

E j

radife Loft, with obferving that Milton has copied after Homer, rather than Virgil, in the length of his periods, the copioufnefs of his phrases, and the running of his verses into one another,

I have now confidered Milton's Paradise Loft under these four great heads of the Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments, and the Language, and have shown that he excels, in general, under each of these heads. I hope that I have made several difcoveries which may appear new, even to those who are verfed in critical learning. Weré I, indeed, to chuse my readers, by whofe judgment I would stand or fall, they should not be fuch as are acquainted only with the French and Italian critics, but also with the Ancient and Modern who have written in either of the learned languages. Above all, I would have them well verfed in the Greek and Latin poets; without which a man very often fancies that he understands a critic, when in reality he does not comprehend his meaning.

It is in criticism as in all other sciences and speculations; one who brings with him any implicit notions and obfervations which he has made in his reading of the poets, will find his own reflections methodized and explained, and, perhaps, several little hints that had paffed in his mind perfected and improved in the works of a good critic; whereas one who has not these previous lights is very often an utter ftranger to what he reads, and apt to put a wrong interpretation upon it. Nor is it fufficient that a man who fets up for a

judge in criticism should have perused the authors above mentioned, unless he has also a clear and logical head. Without this talent he is perpetually puzzled and perplexed amidst his own blunders, mistakes the fenfe of those he would confute, or, if he chances to think right, does not know how to convey his thoughts to another with clearness and perfpicuity. Aristotle, who was the best critic, was also one of the best logicians that ever appeared in the world.

Mr. Locke's Efay on Human Understanding would be thought a very odd book for a man to make himfelf mafter of who would get a reputation by critical writings; though, at the fame time, it is very certain that an author who has not learned the art of distinguishing between words and things, and of ranging his thoughts, and fetting them in proper lights, whatever notions he may have, will lofe himself in confufion and obfcurity, I might further obferve, that there is not a Greek or Latin critic who has not shown, even in the style of his criticisms, that he was a master of the elegance and delicacy of his native tongue.

The truth of it is, there is nothing more abfurd than for a man to fet up for a critic without a good insight into all the parts of learning; whereas many of those who have endeavoured to signalize themselves by works of this nature among our English writers, are not only defective in the above-mentioned particulars, but plainly discover, by the phrafes which they make use of, and by their confused way of thinking,

that they are not acquainted with the most common and ordinary systems of arts and sciences. A few general rules extracted out of the French authors, with a certain cant of words, has sometimes set up an illiterate heavy writer for a most judicious and formidable critic.

One great mark by which you may discover a critic who has neither taste nor learning is this, that he feldom ventures to praise any paffage in an author which has not been before received and applauded by the public, and that his criticism turns wholly upon little faults and errors. This part of a critic is so very eafy to fucceed in, that we find every ordinary reader, upon the publishing of a new poem, has wit and illnature enough to turn feveral paffages of it into ridieule, and very often in the right place. This Mr. Dryden has very agreeably remarked in those two celebrated lines,

Errors, like ftraws, upon the furface flow;

He who would search for pearls must dive below.

A true critic ought to dwell rather upon excellencies than imperfections to discover the concealed beauties of a writer, and communicate to the world fuch things as are worth their obfervation. The most exquisite words and fineft ftrokes of an author are those which very often appear the most doubtful and exceptionable to a man who wants a relish for polite learning; and they are these which a four undiftinguishing critic generally attacks with the greatest violence, Tully

obferves, that it is very easy to brand or fix a mark upon what he calls verbum ardens, or, as it may be rendered into English, a glowing, bold expreffion, and to turn it into ridicule by a cold, ill-natured criticism. A little wit is equally capable of exposing a beauty and of aggravating a fault; and though such a treatment of an author naturally produces indignation in the mind of an understanding reader, it has, however, its effect among the generality of those whofe hands it falls into, the rabble of mankind being very apt to think that every thing which is laughed at with any mixture of wit is ridiculous in itself.

Such a mirth as this is always unseasonable in a critic, as it rather prejudices the reader than convinces him, and is capable of making a beauty as well as a blemish the fubject of derifion. A man who cannot write with wit on a proper fubject is dull and ftupid; but one who shows it in an improper place is as impertinent and abfurd. Besides, a man who has the gift of ridicule is apt to find fault with any thing that gives him an opportunity of exerting his beloved talent, and very often cenfures a paffage, not becaufe there is any fault in it, but because he can be merry upon it. Such kinds of pleasantry are very unfair and difingenuous in works of criticism, in which the greateft mafters, both ancient and modern, have always appeared with a serious and inftructive air.

As I intend, in my next paper, to fhow the defects in Milton's Paradife Loft, I thought fit to premise