gles a mere fpectator, as, when the learned comedies of Jonfon, or the wild dramas of Shakspeare, are exhibited, he attends the theatre.

The penfive man never lofes himself in crowds, but walks the cloifter, or frequents the cathedral. Milton probably had not yet forfaken the Church.

Both his characters delight in mufick; but he feems to think that chearful notes would have obtained from Pluto a complete difmiffion of Eurydice, of whom folemn founds only procured a conditional release.

For the old age of Chearfulnefs he makes no provision; but Melancholy he conducts with great dignity to the clofe of life. His Chearfulness is without levity, and his Penfiveness without afperity.

Through these two poems the images are properly felected, and nicely diftinguished ; but the colours of the diction feem not fufficiently difcriminated. I know not whether the characters are kept fufficiently apart. No Q 4 mirth

.

mirth can, indeed, be found in his melancholy; but I am afraid that I always meet fome melancholy in his mirth. They are two noble efforts of imagination *.

The greateft of his juvenile performances is the Mask of Comus, in which may very plainly be discovered the dawn or twilight of Paradife Loft. Milton appears to have formed very early that fyftem of diction, and mode of verfe, which his maturer judgement approved, and from which he never endea voured nor defired to deviate.

Nor does Comus afford only a fpecimen of his language; it exhibits likewife his power of description and his vigour of fsentiment,

* Mr. Warton intimates (and there can be little doubt of the truth of his conjecture) that Milton borrowed many of the images in these two fine poems from "Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy," a book published in 1624, and at fundry times fince, abounding in learning, curious information, and pleafantry. Mr. Warton fays, that Mil ton appears to have been an attentive reader thereof; and to this affertion I add, of my own knowledge, that it was a book that Dr. Johnson frequently reforted to, as many others have done, for amufement after the fatigue of ftudy. H.

employed

employed in the praise and defence of virtue. A work more truly poetical is rarely found; allufions, images, and defcriptive epithets, embellish almoft every period with lavish decoration. As a feries of lines, therefore, it may be confidered as worthy of all the admiration with which the votaries have received it.

As a drama it is deficient. The action is not probable. A Mafque, in those parts where fupernatural intervention is admitted. muft indeed be given up to all the freaks of imagination; but, fo far as the action is merely human, it ought to be reasonable, which can hardly be faid of the conduct of the two brothers; who, when their fifter finks with fatigue in a pathlefs wildernefs, wander both away together in fearch of berries too far to find their way back, and leave a helpless Lady to all the fadnefs and danger of folitude. This however is a defect overbalanced

by its convenience.

What deferves more reprehenfion is, that the prologue spoken in the wild wood by the attendant Spirit is addreffed to the audience; a mode

a mode of communication fo contrary to the nature of dramatick representation, that no precedents can fupport it.

The discourse of the Spirit is too long; an objection that may be made to almost all the following fpeeches; they have not the fpriteliness of a dialogue animated by reciprocal contention, but feem rather declamations deliberately compofed, and formally repeated, on a moral queftion. The auditor therefore liftens as to a lecture, without paffion, without anxiety.

The fong of Comus has airinefs and jollity; but, what may recommend Milton's morals as well as his poetry, the invitations to pleasure are fo general, that they excite no diftinct images of corrupt enjoyment, and take no dangerous hold on the fancy.

The following foliloquies of Comus and the Lady are elegant, but tedious. The fong muft owe much to the voice, if it ever can delight. At laft the Brothers enter, with too much tranquillity; and when they have feared left their fifter fhould be in danger,

and

and hoped that he is not in danger, the Elder makes a fpeech in praife of chastity, and the Younger finds how fine it is to be a philofopher.

Then defcends the Spirit in form of a fhepherd; and the Brother, instead of being in hafte to ask his help, praises his finging, and enquires his business in that place. It is remarkable, that at this interview the brother is taken with a fhort fit of rhyming. The Spirit relates that the Lady is in the power of Comus; the Brother moralifes again; and the Spirit makes a long narration, of no use because it is false, and therefore unfuitable to a good Being.

In all these parts the language is poetical, and the fentiments are generous; but there is fomething wanting to allure attention.

The difpute between the Lady and Comus is the most animated and affecting scene of the drama, and wants nothing but a brifker reciprocation of objections and replies to invite attention, and detain it.

The