1. Hence, all you vain delights, Wherein you spend your folly; 2. Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes; 3. Fountain-heads, and pathless groves; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley : "I would be, doubtless, in the opinion of all readers, going too far to say, that this song deserves as much notice as the 'Penseroso' itself: but it so happens, that very little of the former can remain unnoticed, whenever the latter is praised. Of this song, the construction is, in the first place, to be admired: it divides into three parts: the first part displays the moral of melancholy; the second, the person or figure; the third, the circumstance, that is, such things as increase or flatter the disposition: nor is it surprising that Milton should be struck with the images and sentiments it affords, most of which are somewhere inserted in the 'Il Penseroso.' It will not, however, be found to have contributed much to the construction of Milton's poem: the subjects they severally exhibit are very differ VOL. VI. D ent: they are alike only, as shown under the same disposition of melancholy. Beaumont's is the melancholy of the swain; of the mind, that contemplates nature and man but in the grove and the cottage: Milton's is that of a scholar and philosopher; of the intellect, that has ranged the mazes of science, and that decides upon vanity and happiness, from large intercourse with man, and upon extensive knowledge and experience. To say, therefore, that Milton was indebted to Beaumont's song for his 'Penseroso' would be absurd that it supplied some images to his poem will be readily allowed; and that it would be difficult to find, throughout the 'Penseroso,' amidst all its variety, any more striking than what Beaumont's second stanza affords, may also be granted. Milton's poem is among those happy works of genius, which leave a reader no choice how his mind shall be affected."- Cursory Remarks on some of the ancient English poets, particularly Milton.' Lond. printed, but not published, 1789, p. 114. The date of these poems has not been ascertained; but Mr. Hayley has observed,—“ It seems probable, that these two enchanting pictures of rural life, and of the diversified delights arising from a contemplative mind, were composed at Horton;" to which place Milton went to reside with his father in 1632, and where he continued at least five years.— TODD. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. WHEN Milton's juvenile poems were revived into notice about the middle of the last century, these two short lyrics became, I think, the most popular: they are very beautiful; but in my opinion far from the best of the poet's youthful productions: they have far less invention than 'Comus' or 'Lycidas;' and surely invention is the primary essential: they have more of fancy than invention, as those two words are in modern use distinguished from each other. Besides, it is clear that they were suggested by the poem prefixed to 'Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy,' and a song in the 'Nice Valour' of Beaumont and Fletcher. There is here no fable, which is absolutely necessary for prime poetry: the rural descriptions are fresh, forcible, picturesque, and most happily selected; but still many of them seem to me much less original than those of' Lycidas' and Comus:' and though there is a certain degree of contemplative sentiment in them all, it is not of so passionate or sublime a kind as in those other exquisite pieces, in which there is more of moral instruction and mingled intellect; and, in short, vastly more of spirituality. The scenery of nature, animate and inanimate, derives its most intense interest from its connexion with our moral feelings and duties, and our ideal visions. If I am not mistaken, Gray thought this, when he spoke of merely descriptive poems. Gray's own stanza, in his 'Fragment on Vicissitude,' beginning Yesterday the sullen year Saw the snowy whirlwind fly, perhaps the finest stanza in his poems, is a most striking example of this sublime combination. I say, that these two admired lyrics of Milton have less of this combination than I could wish: they were written in the buoyancy and joyousness of youth, though the joyousness of the latter is pensive: all was yet hope with the poet; none of the evils of life had yet come upon him: it was the joy of mental display and visionary glory; of a mind proudly displaying its own richness, and throwing from its treasures beams of light on all external objects: but it was the rapidity of a ferment too much in motion to allow it to wait long enough on particular topics; therefore there was in these two productions less intensity than in most of the author's other poetry: he is here generally content to describe the surface of what he notices. His learned allusions abound, though not so much perhaps as in most of his other writings: these, however, are not the proofs of his genius, but only of his memory and industry. I admit, that the choice of the imagery of these pieces could only have been made by a true poet, of nice discernment and brilliant fancy; of a mind constantly occupied by contemplation, and skilful in making use of all those superstitions in which the visionary delight; and that the whole are woven into one web of congenial associations, which make a beautiful and splendid constellation: still a large portion of the ingredients, taken separately, have been anticipated by other poets. These remarks will probably draw forth the question, "Whence then has arisen the superior popularity of these two compositions?" I may now be forgiven for asserting, that popularity is a doubtful test of merit. One reason may be, that they are more easily understood; that they are less laboured, and less deep; that they do not try and fatigue, either the heart or the intellect. The mass of the people like slight amusement, and subjects of easy apprehension the greater part of Milton's poetry is too solemn and thought-working for their taste or their power. In the sublime bard's latter poems,-in his epics and his drama,—and even in his early monody of 'Lycidas,'-his rural images, though not more picturesque, nor perhaps, except in Lycidas,' quite so fresh, yet derive a double force from their position;-from the circumstances of the persons on whom they are represented as acting;-as, for instance, on Adam, Eve, Satan, our Saviour, Samson, and on the mourners for the death of Lycidas. When the description of scenery forms part of a fable, and is connected with the development of a story, the mind of the reader is already worked up into a state of sensitiveness and sympathy, which confers upon surrounding objects hues of augmented impression. When Milton recalls to his mind those images with which he had been familiar in the society of his friend Lycidas, they awaken, from the accident of his death, affections and regrets which they never had done before. When Eve is about to be expelled from Paradise, how she grieves over her lost flowers and garden-delights! heaven, fresh-blowing," invigorates and when brought out from a close prison! How the "air of charms Samson, How affecting is |