parts of that poem, particularly in those that include the speeches of some of the persone dramatis. The intellect of satan-a stupendous idea-accomplishing his plans in the face of despair, and so artfully justifying his base conduct, that the reader almost takes part with him against the cause of rectitude, is, be it remembered, only the intellect of Milton conceiving such a character, revolving the deepest and most terrific thoughts, and displaying unequalled logical acumen though sometimes to the detriment of his poetry.

Our general observations respecting Milton, will receive confirmation from what we are more particularly to offer, on the contents of the volumes named at the head of this article. These publications together contain all the prose works of Milton, at least all that possess much importance. The American edition of his works is a selection, and contains those treatises only that were written in his mother tongue. The English edition embodies, besides these, such as were written in Latin. In that language, which was the medium of communication often used by the learned men of his age, and in the composition of which he surpassed all the scholars of Europe, appeared the larger portion of his works and some of the most celebrated, particularly his two Defences of the people of England. All the peices originally in Latin are translations merely, as published in the English edition. They constitute the entire second volume, and also a very small part of the first. The design of the American volumes was to embody only Milton's English prose. In reference to this object, Mr. Jenks the editor, remarks in his preface as follows. "As his Defence of the people of England is his most celebrated prose composition, it may by some be regretted that I have made this

selection from his English prose works alone. But my object has been to make the English reader better acquainted than he now is, with Milton's own prose, not the prose of Mr. Washington, Mr. Burnett, or of any other translator." That object is doubtless deserving. It is a gratification, however, to the admirers of Milton, that compositions so able as these Defences, are presented to their perusal, as is done in the London edition, even under the very great disadvantages of a translation. For reasons which they thought justifiable, both the English and American editors have abridged or omitted some parts of the poet's English pieces. In the London edition the abridgments and omissions are frequent and extensive. Mr. Jenks has left out far less, and the more interesting productions he has given entire. With this procedure we are much better pleased; for who prefers not the whole of a good thing to a garbled part of it? Some omissions doubtless were judicious, if not for the sake of decency, at least to avoid repetition or prolixity-a fault of the writers of that time, and in some degree even of Milton. The introductions to these respective volumes are drawn up in an interesting manner, and give us valuable information respecting the nature and origin of the poet's works both English and Latin. From the introduction to the English volumes we extract the concluding remarks respecting the style and manner of Milton's prose. "The style of Milton was formed too much upon the model of the ancient writers. Hence those inversions, and often that Roman cast of phrase, which so ill accords with the genius of the English language.--His sentences, too, are frequently too long, and likewise involved, arising chiefly from a faulty use of parenthesis. Sometimes also the end of his sentenco

forgets the beginning; that is, the sentence is deficient in unity; a fault which may easily be avoided, and it undoubtedly ought to be avoided, as it tends so much to prevent perspicuity. In respect of length of sentence, however, we must not be over hasty in condemning as faulty, what in many cases may be proof of the highest genius. Every sentence may be considered as a distinct vision of the mind, containing more or less of ideas, and that brain will possess the most capacity, which can see most at Once without confusion. It seems natural then to a capacious mind to accustom itself to sentences of some length, particularly in strains of eloquence and in generalizing observations. A sentence is not necessarily obscure from its length, but from its structure. In the argumentative parts of his writings, as his reasoning is close, Milton's sentences are sufficiently short, as might be expected: for every vigorous mind naturally brings its subjects of comparison as close together as possible, for the greater facility of comparing them. Yet even here, his sentences, though remarkable for strength, have never the pert, hitting effect, which distinguishes the French style.--As to the general manner of Milton, apart from these few particularities, it is such as is distinctive of a mind of the higher order. Elevation of thought must necessarily produce elevation of style; and never was there a man perhaps of a more lofty genius. No trick, no affectation of What such a man writes, admitting him to be sufficiently interested in his subject, is dictated only by nature; he records as the stream of his thoughts flow on. The defects of these celebrated writings, whether arising from language or from the party spirit and prejudices of the age, are easily separable from their excellencies, to which they bear but a small pro

any sort.

portion; and it will then be found that they are not unworthy of the author of Paradise Lost."

But it is time that our readers hear Milton himself in a few detached paragraphs, and form, so far as can be done, in so imperfect a manner, their own judgments respecting both his sentiments and style. His tracts on "Reformation in England" will furnish our first selections. In this work he was the leader of the attack against the prelatical party, and "the mitred hierarchy itself," the object at that time with the lovers of liberty in Britain, of much, though hitherto stifled indignation. Milton was of the opinion that the reformation in religion was very imperfect, and that the prelates, "though they had renounced the Pope yet hugged the popedom." In the language of the biographer before quoted, he here "gives a minute history of the church of England from its birth; and explaining the causes of what he deemed to be its imperfect separation from that of Rome, and its halting at a distance behind the other reformed church

es,

he pays no great respect to the venerable names of our early reformers, who attested the purity of their motives with their blood."

We discover in the following extract the originality and boldness of his language, as well as the severity of his invectives, and the warmth of his indignation.

and enormous prelatism, as we do, thus But why do we suffer mishapen to blanch and varnish her deformities with the fair colors, as before of martyrdom, so now of episcopacy? They are not bishops, God and all good men know they are not, that have filled this land with late confusion and violence, but a tyrannical crew and corporation of impostors that have blinded and abused the world so long under that name. He that, enabled with gifts from God, and the lawful primitive choice of the church assembled in convenient number, faithfully from that

time forward feeds his parochial flock, has his cocqual and compresbyterial power to ordain ministers and deacons by public prayer, and vote of Christ's congregation in like sort as he himself was ordained, and is a true apostolic bishop. But when he steps up into the chair of pontifical pride, and changes a moderate and exemplary house for a misgoverned and haughty palace, spiritual dignity for carnal precedence, and secular high office and employment for the high negociations of his heavenly embassage; then he degrades, then he unbishops himself; he that makes him bishop makes him no bishop. No marvel therefore if St. Martin complained to Sulpitius Severus, that since he was bishop he felt inwardly a sensible decay of those virtues and graces that God had given him in great measure before; although the same Sulpitius writes that he was nothing tainted or altered in habit, diet, or personal demeanor from that simple plainness to which he first betook himself. It was not therefore that thing alone which God took displeasure at in the bishops of those times, but rather universal rottenness and gangrene in the whole function. Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. 10, 11.

His opinion respecting the perspicuity of the Scriptures will commend itself to all the lovers of truth.

But it will be replied the Scriptures are difficult to be understood, and therefore require the explanation of the Fathers. It is true there be some books, and especially some places in those books, that remain clouded; yet even that which is most necessary to be known, is most easy; and that which is most difficult, so far expounds itself ever, as to tell us how little it imports our saving knowledge. Hence to infer a general obscurity over all the text, is a mere suggestion of the devil to disuade men from reading it, and casts an aspersion of dishonor both upon the mercy, truth, and wisdom of God. We count it no gentleness, or fair dealing in a man of power amongst us, to require strict and punctual obedience, and yet give out all his commands ambiguous and obscure; we should think he had a

plot upon us; certainly such commands were no commands, but snares. The very essence of truth is plainness and brightness; the darkness and crookThe wisdom of edness is our own. God created understanding fit and proportionable to truth, the object and end of it, as the eye to the thing visible. If our understanding have a film of ignorance over it, or be blear with gazing on other false glisterings, what is that to truth? If we will but purge with sovereign eye-salve that intellectual ray which God hath planted in us, then we would believe the Scriptures protesting their own plainness, and perspicuity, calling to them to be instructed, not only the wise and learned, but the simple, the poor, the babes, foretelling an extraordinary effusion of God's spirit upon every age and sex, attributing to all men and requiring from them the ability of searching, trying, and examining all things, and by the Spirit discerning that which is good; and as the Scriptures themselves pronounce their own plainness, so do the Fathers testify Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. of them. 29, 30.

The eloquence of the coming extract will, we think, be felt without any comments of our own.

Among many secondary and accessary causes that support monarchy, these are not of least reckoning, though common to all other states; the love of the subjects, the multitude and valor of the people, and store of treasure. In all these things hath the kingdom been of late sore weakened and chiefly by the prelates. First, let any man consider that if any prince will suffer under him any commission of authority to be exercised, till all the land groan and cry out, as against a whip of scorpions, whether this be not likely to lessen, and keel the affections of the subject. Next what numbers of faithful and free born Englishmen and good Christians have been constrained to forsake their dearest home, their friends and kindred, whom nothing but the wide ocean, and the savage deserts of America could hide and shelter from the fury of the bishops? O, sir, if we could but see the shape of our dear mother England, as poets are wont to

give a personal form to what they please, how would she appear, think ye, but in a mourning weed, with ashes upon her head, and tears abundantly flowing from her eyes to behold so many of her children exposed at once, and thrust from things of dearest necessity, because their conscience could not assent to things which the bishops thought indifferent? What more binding than conscience? What more free than indifferency? Cruel then must that indifferency needs be, that shall violate the strict necessity of conscience; merciless and inhuman that free choice and liberty, that shall break assunder the bonds of religion! Let the astrologer be dismayed at the portentous blaze of comets, and impressions in the air, as foretelling troubles and changes to states; I shall believe there cannot be a more illboding sign to a nation! God turn the omen from us! then when the inhabitants, to avoid insufferable grievances at home, are enforced by heaps to forsake their native country. Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. 44, 45.

The following paragraphs are both sweet and magnificent. What magicial words and harmonious sentences! Who but can recognize in them the author of those entrancing numbers and powerful thoughts that distinguish the Paradise Lost!

When I recall to mind at last, after so many dark ages, wherein the overshadowing train of error had almost swept all the stars out of the firmament of the church, how the bright and blissful reformation, by divine power, strook through the black and settled night of ignorance and anti-christian tyranny, methinks a sovreign and reviving joy must needs rush into the bosom of him that reads or hears; and the sweet odour of the returning gospel imbathe his soul with the fragrancy of heaven. Then was the sacred Bible sought out of the dusty corners where profane falsehood and neglect had thrown it, the schools opened, divine and human learning raked out of the embers of forgotten tongues, the princes and cities trooping apace to the new erected banner of salvation; the martyrs with the unre

sistible might of weakness shaking the powers of darkness, and scorning the fiery rage of the old red dragon. Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. 4, 5.

But ever blessed be He, and ever glorified, that from his high watch-tow er in the heavens, discerning the crooked ways of perverse and cruel men, hath hitherto maimed and infatuated all their damnable inventions, and deluded their great wizards with a delusion fit for fools and children. Had God been so minded, he could have sent a spirit of mutiny amongst us, as he did between Abimelech and the Sechemites, to have made our funerals and slain heaps more in number than the miserable surviving remnant; but He, when we least deserved, sent out a gentle gale and message of peace from the wings of those his cherubims that fan his mercy seat. Nor shall the wisdom, the moderation, the Christian piety, the constancy of our nobility and commons of England, be ever forgotten, whose calm and temperate connivance could sit still and smile out the stormy bluster of men more audacious and precipitant than of solid and deep reach, till their own fury had run itself out of breath, assailing by rash and heady approaches the impregnable situation of our liberty and safety, that laughed such weak enginery to scorn, such poor drifts to make a national war of a surplice brabble, a tippet scuffle, and engage the untainted honor of English knighthood to unfurl the streaming red cross, or to rear the horrid standard of those fatal guly dragons for so unworthy a purpose, as to force upon their fellow subjects that which themselves are weary of, the skeleton of a mass book. Nor must the patience, the fortitude, the firm obedience of the nobles and people of Scotland, striving against manifold provocations; nor must their sincere and moderate proceedings hitherto be unremembered, to the shameful_conviction of all their detractors. Go on both hand in hand, O Nations, never to be disunited; be the praise and the heroic song of all posterity; merit this, but seek only virtue, not to extend your limits, (for what needs to win a fading triumphant laurel out of the tears of wretched men?) but to settle the pure worship of God in his church, and justice in the state. Then shall

the hardest difficulties smooth out themselves before ye; envy shall sink to hell, craft and malice be confounded, whether it be homebred mischief, or outlandish cunning; yea other nations will then covet to serve ye, for lordship and victory are but the pages of justice and virtue. Commit securely to true wisdom the vanquishing and uncasing of craft and subtilty which are but two runagates. Join your invincible might to do worthy and godlike deeds; and then he that seeks to break your union, a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all generations. Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. 53-55.

O sir, I do now feel myself inwrapt on the sudden into those mazes and labyrinths of dreadful and hideous thoughts, that which way to get out, or which way to end, I know not, unless I turn mine eyes, and with your help lift up my hands to that eternal and propitious throne, where nothing is readier than grace and refuge to the distresses of mortal suppliants; and it were a shame to leave these serious thoughts less piously than the heathen were wont to conclude their graver discourses. Thou, therefore, that sittest in light and glory unapproachable, Parent of angels and men! next thee I implore, omnipotent King, Redeemer of that lost remnant whose nature thou didst assume, ineffable and everlasting Love! and thou the third subsistence of divine infinitude, illumining Spirit, the joy and solace of created things! one tripersonal Godhead ! look upon this thy poor and almost spent and expiring church; leave her not thus a prey to these importunate wolves, that wait and think long till they devour thy tender flock; these wild boars that have broke into thy vineyard and left the print of their polluting hoofs on the souls of thy servants. Oh! let them not bring about their damned designs, that stand now at the entrance of the bottomless pit, expecting the watchword to open and

let out those dreadful locusts and scorpions, to reinvolve us in that pitchy cloud of infernal darkness, where we shall never more see the sun of thy truth again, never hope for the cheerful dawn, never more hear the bird of morning sing. Be moved with pity at the afflicted state of this our shaken monarchy, that now lies laboring un

der her throes, and struggling against the grudges of more dreaded calamities. Then amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, some one may perhaps be heard offering at high strains in new and lofty measures, to sing and celebrate thy divine mercies, and marvellous judgments in this land throughout all ages, whereby this great and warlike nation, instructed and inured to the fervent and continual practice of truth and righteousness, and casting far from her the rags of her old vices, may press on hard to that high and happy emulation to be found the soberest, wisest, and most Christian people at that day, when Thou, the eternal, and shortly expected King, shalt open the clouds to judge the several kingdoms of the world, and distributing national honors and rewards to religious and just commonwealths, shalt put an end to all earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and mild monarchy through heaven and earth; when they undoubtedly that by their labors, counsels, and prayers, have been earnest for the common good of religion and their country, shall receive above the inferior orders of the blessed, the regal addition of principalities, legions, and thrones, into their glorious titles, and, in supereminence of beatific vision, progressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity, shall clasp inseparable hands with joy and bliss, in overmeasure forever.-Amer. Edit. Vol. I. pp. 67—70.

Our next extracts we shall derive from his two works, "Prelatica! "Reason of Episcopacy" and

Church Government urged against Prelaty." The learning, acumen, and force of Milton very advantageously appear in these productions. As specimens we give the following from the first of these pieces.

And this may be a sufficient reason to us why we need no longer muse at the spreading of many idle traditions so soon after the apostles, whilst such as this Papias had the throwing them about, and the inconsiderate zeal of the next age, that heeded more the person, than the doctrine, had the gathering