■Vl'HvV LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Tl^-5^JW Chap. Copyright No.,. Shelf..J3J_7 ^T- UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. «**•.^ SELECTIONS PARADISE LOST INCLUDING Books I. and ii. entire, and portions of BOOKS 111., IV., VI., VII., AND X. WITH INTRODUCTION, SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY, AND GLOSSARY EDITED BY ALBERT PERRY \VALKER, M.A. Teacher of English n rinJjgTftnv_niTTir English High School, Boston NOV 10 1897 TWOCO^^^EIVED BOSTON, U.S.A. D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 1897 Xs^^b^ <.-.< Copyright, 1897, By D. C. heath & CO. Typography by J. S. Cushing & Co., Norwood, Mass. Presswork by Rockwell & Churchill, Boston, Mass. V i PREFACE. This book is an outgrowth of the conviction in the mind of the editor that the aims and the methods gen- erally pursued in the study of hterature in secondary schools may be modified to advantage, and that the method of approaching an author of such marked indi- viduality as Milton exhibits, should depart from ordinary methods of study in a manner determined by his especial characteristics. Of course, certain features are common to all literature. In the production of every great poem, for example, two elements unite, — a profound conception, and the emo- tion which that conception excites in the mind of its author, impelling him to poetic utterance. If this be true, the aim of the student of any poem should be to grasp the conception presented in all its completeness, and to attune his spirit with that of the author, that a kindred emotion may be awakened within his own breast. Bat between every poet of the past and his readers of to-day, there naturally arise barriers to complete com- munity of thought and feeUng, due to the different points of view fro'^ whi'-' '" contemplate the same facts; for •"-•ir '"• modified by the mental iv PREFACE. liarities of his time, his aesthetic canons by the prevailing tastes of his time. In the case of John Milton, these barriers between the author and his readers in secondary schools are espe- cially difficult to surmount. His Latinized language (natural to himself and his contemporaries) is an un- known tongue to the youth of the present day. His elevated style, with its involved sentence structure, sounds unfamihar to their ears. His whole mental atmosphere, permeated by Puritan theology, Mediaeval and Renais- sance science, and classical aesthetics, is an atmosphere in which they are unable to breathe freely. Even in mat- ters not pecuHar to the past, our pupils lack the equip- ment to read an author so learned as Milton. How shall these barriers be removed, and pupils thus limited be enabled to read with comprehension and appreciation the works of the greatest English poet? Two methods of study are now in use in secondary schools, each finding advocates among teachers of litera- ture. Either the pupil reads the text with notes appended, these notes aiming to elucidate whatever passages may be obscure ; or, with only the author's text in hand, he seeks in a reference library the information requisite for the comprehension of its meaning. • The first-mentioned method is pedagogically unsound for at least two reasons. It leads the pupil to exercise his memory to the almost entire exclusion of comparison, se- lection, reflection; and the notes present facts apart from their relations to one another, t it i? the charac- teristic of a trained i"*""'" " ^s "^' PREFACE. V thus annotated is seen in the conception which the pupil forms of what constitutes the study of hterature. He comes to beUeve that he knows the poem when he has memorized the matter contained in the notes, whereas he is merely ready to know the poem. An equally de- plorable practical effect is the fostering of bad habits of study. Instead of reading the text with care, refer- ring to notes only for aid in resolving perplexities that arise in the mind during the reading, the pupil often yields to the temptation to work from the notes back- ward to the text (in order to save time), beheving that passages to which notes are not appended may be as- sumed to be clear. The second. method, claimed by its advocates to de- velop the power of original research, I beUeve to be both practically and theoretically objectionable in the case of an author like Milton. Even were reference books abundant in our schools, the expenditure of time required for the consultation of dictionaries, encyclopaedias, and histories, on merely the facts absolutely necessary to the compre- hension of Milton's thought, would be wholly out of proportion to the results obtained ; and the pupil's ex- hausted energies would prohibit any enjoyment of the aesthetic element in the composition. The error in the- ory made by the extreme advocates of the method of original research is that they assume that man cannot with profit avail himself of the labors of his fellow-man, but must rediscover the whole domain of knowledge for himself. The most disciplinary and fruitful subjects of research in connection with the study of Milton would seem to be those which are ordinarily treated most fully vi PREFACE. by editors ; namely, matters relating to his life, the politi- cal and religions history of his times, and his indebted- ness to the writers that preceded him. In the study of these topics, a very few books could be made avail- able for an entire class, the work in literature could be correlated with that in history and in the Greek and Latin languages, and a genuine spirit of research could thus be fostered much more effectively than by the wearisome delving after petty details in books of reference. In arranging this book, the following aims have been kept in view : to economize the pupil's time and strength by enabling him to use wisely the results of other men's industry, to the end that he may approach the study of Milton's poetry with a mind prepared to comprehend and to enjoy it, and to make both the preparation and the subsequent study contribute to his power to read any literature whatever that is akin to Milton's work. To attain these ends the necessary information is in- cluded in an introduction, in which facts have been systematized as in an encyclopaedia, while definitions and derivations have been relegated to a glossary. Notes referring to special passages have been employed only for such suggestions as would guide the pupil's thought, and lead, but not carry, him into a knowledge of the works of our greatest EngHsh poet. These notes deal especially with the three elements of poetry emphasized in the present college requirements in English, — matter, structure, and style. Much more of Paradise Lost has been included in the text than is required for admission to any college, in the hope that the pupil may be tempted to read further from interest alone. The selections have PREFACE. vii been made with a view to securing unity of subject and continuity of narrative, while exhibiting as adequately as possible Milton's widely varied powers of poetic composition. They treat of the principal events in the career of Satan, and include, besides the events imme- diately following his expulsion from Heaven (as narrated in Books I. and II.), the War m Heaven which caused his fall, the Creation of the IVor/d to serve as an abode for his destined successors in God's favor, his Adve?iiures while in search of the Earth, and his Ultimate Punishment in Hell. It is recommended that those using the book first devote some time to a rapid study of the introductorv matter, as a preparation for the study of the work as literature, and as an historical survey of the characteristic ideas of Milton and the literary traditions of his times. When by this means the pupil has prepared himself to approach the poem with a mental equipment not unhke that of the readers to whom Milton originally addressed himself, let him make the poem itself the sole object of his study (thenceforth referring to the explanatory matter only where his memory fails him), striving ever to con- template it as the imaginative and impassioned expres- sion of noble thought, enriched with melody, and inspired by a consecrated purpose. A. P. VV. Boston, August, 1897. CONTENTS. Preface PAGE iii Introduction to the Study of Milton's Works. Milton's Purpose . - . Milton's Achievement Milton's Life (Outline) . Suggestions for the Study of Poetry Seventeenth-Century Ideas Physical Science . ^ . Astronomy The Ptolemaic Theory The Copernican Theory Superstitions ... Mythology . , f Ancient Cosmography Ancient Cosmogony . The Lesser Deities . Classic Legends The Argonautic Expedition The Labors of Hercules The Trojan War " Anchises' Line " The Wanderings of Ulysses ix 7 17 18 22 22 31 33 35 37 40 45 58 58 60 62 64 65 X CONTENTS. PAGE Religious Conceptions 67 Heaven . Y 68 The Creation and the Fall of Man . . • 71 The Hebrews 75 " The \Yays of God to Men " (It 97. 98) • 83 Introduction to Paradise Lost. Its History . . . 89 Its Characteristics . . . ^/ 91 Milton's Preface on the Verse 93 Paradise Lost. Book 1 95 Book II 125 Book HI. 1-76; 416-742 165 Book IV. 1-113 183 Book VI. 189-356; 524-892 189 Book VII. 192-568 211 Book X. 504-547 227 Notes on the Literary Interpretation of the Poem . 232 General Study of the Selections 245 Topics for Original Research 246 Glossary 248 Index of References Explained, etc 267 ILLUSTRATIONS, MAPS, ETC. PAGE The Four Regions of the Universe i . Frontispiece ' The World (Ptolemaic System) 26 u Classic Lands 861 The Holy Land 87^ Sion 88 u- Egypt and Sinai 88 k' ' For this suggestive representation of the space relations of the World, the editor is indebted to the skill and the courtesy of his colleague, Mr. Jerome B. Poole, of the department of drawing in the English High School, Boston. INTRODUCTION. NOTE. Throughout this book, references by numbers alone relate to the numbered paragraphs of the matter treating of the characteristic ideas of Milton's time, which is found on pages 17 to 85 inclusive. MILTON'S PURPOSE. " He who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things ought himself to be a true poem ; that is, a composition and pattern of the best and most honourable things ; not presuming to sing high pi'aises of heroic men and famous ^///Vj", unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy." Apology for Smectymnuus. " I began thus far to assent ... to an inward prompt- ing which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intense study (which I take to be my portion in this life) joined with the strong propensity of nature, / might perhaps leave something so laritten to after times, as they \J should not willingly let it die. ... I applied myself to fix all the industry and art I could unite to the adorning of my fiative tongue ; not to make verbal curiosities to that end — that were a toilsome vanity — but to be an interpreter and relater of the best and sagest things among mine own citizens throughout the island in the mother dialect. . . . "... Lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sublime, in virtue amiable or grave, whatsoever hath passion or ad- miration in all the changes of that which is called fortune from without, or the wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from within : all these things with a solid and treatable smoothness to paint and desc?'ibe ; teaching over the whole book of sanctity and virtue, through all the instances of exainpleJ' Reason of Church Government. INTRODUCTION. MILTON'S ACHIEVEMENT. Three poets in three distant ages born, Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. The first in loftiness of thought surpassed; The next in majesty; in both the last. The force of nature could no further go. To make a third, she joined the former two. JOHN DRYDEN. Nor second He, that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy The secrets of the Abyss to spy : He passed the flaming bounds of Place and Time : The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze Where Angels tremble while they gaze. He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night. THOMAS GRAY. Milton ! thou shouldst be living at this hour : England hath need of thee : she is a fen Of stagnant waters : altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient Enghsh dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; O, raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power ! Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart : Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea; Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. MILTON^S ACHIEVEMENT. O mighty-mouth'd inventor of harmonies, O skill'd to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages, Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abdiel, Starr'd from Jehovah's gorgeous armouries. Tower, as the deep-domed empyrean Rings to the roar of an angel onset — INIe rather all that bowery loneliness, The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring, And bloom profuse and cedar arches Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean, Where some refulgent sunset of India Streams o'er a rich ambrosial ocean isle, And crimson-hued the stately palm woods Whisper in odorous heights of even. ALFRED TENiNYSON. He left the upland lawns and serene air Wherefrom his soul her noble nurture drew, And reared his helm among the unquiet crew Battling beneath; the morning radiance rare Of his young brow amid the tumult there Grew grim with sulphurous dust and sanguine dew; Yet through all soilure they who marked him knew The signs of his life's dayspring, calm and fair. But when peace came, peace fouler far than war. And mirth more dissonant than battle's tone. He, with a scornful sigh of his clear soul. Back to his mountain clomb, now bleak and frore. And with the awful night he dwelt alone, In darkness, listening to the thunder's roll. ERNEST MYERS. INTRODUCTION. BIOGRAPHICAL OUTLINE OF Milton's Life as related to his Literary Work. 1608 He was bora in London of refined and well-to-do parents, whose ambition destined him from child- hood to the pursuit of literature. Accordingly from the year 16 16 He was educated both at school and with private tutors at home, studying languages and phi- losophy. 1625 He entered the University of Cambridge, where he remained for seven years and received the usual degrees of Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts, also winning special honors. (1629, Ode on the Morning of Christ's Nativity.) 1632 He went to reside with his father in the village of Horton, and occupied himself for five years in the perusal of the great literary works in all lan- guages, in the study of mathematics and music, and in the production of various minor poetical compositions. {L' Allegro, II Peuseroso, Com us, Lycidas.) His walks about this pleasant coun- try village, together with his previous rambles about Cambridge, undoubtedly developed in him that dehght in the simple and cheerful aspects of rural life which is manifested through- out his shorter poems, and appears as remem- MILTON'S LIFE. 5 bered pleasure in the works of his later years, when no more to him returned " Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks or herds, or hmnan face divine." P. L. HI. 42. 1638 He travelled abroad, visiting Paris and the princi- pal Italian cities, seeking converse with persons of distinguished attainment, indulging his taste for literature, and collecting a library for future reading and study. During this time he visited Florence and Naples. At Florence, where he spent four months, he visited the aged Tuscan astronomer Galileo (see 17). From his lips Milton must have heard an account of his obser- vations of the moon^ and the other planets, made from liis observatory in the Val d'Arno, or from the neighboring hill of Fesole. He took advantage of a visit to the same city, to spend some days in a monastery in the forest- clad vale of Vallombrosa, eighteen miles distant. 1 I am not aware that the full significance of the passage in Para- dise Lost^ I. 286-291, in its relation to Milton's visit to Galileo, has ever been pointed out. In November, 1637, Galileo had made the last discovery that his failing eyesight allowed him to make, that of the libration of the moon, by means of the measurement of the changes in the position of her spots. " The large, anciently knozvn spots which are seen in her face may help to make evident the truth of what I say." Can it l)e doubted that it was his account of this latest series of observations to Milton (who visited him in 1638) that inspired the above passage about the "spotty globe "? 6 INTRODUCTION. While at Naples he had an opportunity to ob- serve in Vesuvius some of those results of volcanic action which furnished the material for his pict- ure of the shore of the lake in Hell {P. L. I. 230-!-), and of the hill not far away {P. L. L 670-f). 1639 He returned to England because he heard of the commotions in that country which later led to the Civil War. " For I thought it base to be travelling for amusement abroad, while my fel- low-citizens were fighting for liberty at home." 1640 He settled in London, resuming his literary pur- suits, and teaching a few private pupils. During the succeeding years he wrote much in defence of the People's cause, in the quarrels between King and Parliament. 1649 He was made Latin Secretary under the govern- ment of the Commonwealth, and continued his writings against the enemies of that government. 1650 He became blind in one eye. Persisting in his labors as Secretary, in 1653 He became totally blind. After the Restoration in 1660 He passed into obscurity, and prosecuted his long- delayed work on Paradise Lost. 1667 He published Paradise Lost. 167 1 He published Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. 1674 He died. THE STUDY OF POETRY. SUGGESTIONS FOR THE STUDY OF POETRY. In every work of art the indispensable requisite is ha7vnony, a quality which may be manifested in the relation of subject to form and treatment, and of each part to the whole. Poetry is characterized by the blend- ing of at least three special elements, in the mutual rela- tions of which harmony must be exhibited : the subject of poetry must be of a character worthy of artistic ex- pression, the treatment must be imaginative, the form must be rhythmical. Besides these general features, each poem has an individual structure, partly the result of the free choice of the author, partly determined by the nature of the subject and the purpose of the compo- sition. Subject, purpose, structure, and rhythmic form determine the class to which the poem belongs, and this in some degree determines its style and appropriate method of treatment. The student who learns to ob- serve these elements in a poem thereby enhances his enjoyment, while developing his power of judgment and acquiring a correct taste in literature. He must therefore train himself to observe the general subject of treatment in any work or passage, the immedi- ate subject under discussion, and its relation to the gen- eral one. He must note the order in which the minor subjects succeed one another, and the logical basis of that order. 8 INTRODUCTION. For example, the trained reader observes, at the very first read- ing, that the subject of the first book of Paradise Lost is Satan's masterly rallying of his followers from their condition of utter rout, beginning with his rebuke to Beelzebub for his weakness, and end- ing with his denunciation of war against Heaven. He notes that this main subject is introduced only after some preliminary explana- tions, and is followed by matter connecting the main subject of Book I. with that of Book II. He notes the successive subdivisions of "cause," "place," "condition," " appearance," etc. He notes that the cause is treated in logical development from the basal thought previously mentioned, that the place is treated by means of descriptive " word-painting," that the state of mind of the char- acters is exhibited often through the quotation of their own words, and that extended illustrations are introduced here and there. To apply the same process of analysis to a short passage, let us examine Satan's first speech to Beelzebub (/*. L. I. 84). In reading this the trained observer quickly perceives that the speech centres upon the thought of change suggested to Satan by his first glance at his comrade. He traces the logical progress from the thought of the latter's changed appearance to that of their changed condition and its cause, then to Satan's unchanged mental attitude towards God, then to his scorn of such a change of attitude, then to his prophecy of a change of fate to come, etc. One result of this training is to develop the faculty of attention, and thereby to enable the memory to retain what has been read, and to reproduce it with fulness and clearness. Speaking broadly, we may say that this train- ing gives mastery over the mattei' and over the structure of a poem. A second result is to form correct mental habits in the pupil, through the force of conscious or unconscious imitation. The writers of great literature are persons whose mental powers are especially orderly in their operation. The pupil who habitually observes the above-mentioned features of their work and exercises THE STUDY OF POETRY. 9 himself in reproducing their thought in similarly logical arrangement cannot fail to find his own process of thought more accurate and more orderly. The work of great writers is not only orderly in thought ; it is also effectively expressed. One great means of effectiveness in expression consists in the skil- ful use of variety, or contrast. Successive portions of a poem must vary in treatment, and the student must learn to notice the transition and judge whether it be abrupt or unobtrusive. But the chief aim must be to learn to recognize that vital element of good writing which is called style. The more obvious elements of style are the kind and quantity of ornamentation, the character of the words selected, and the prevailing type of sentence structure and word arrangement. The quintessence of style, however, resides not in these externals, but in a subtle harmony of thought and expression pervading an entire work ; a quality which is not discoverable by analysis, but must be recognized through its effect upon the aesthetic faculty. The power to perceive the pres- ence of this quality may best be developed by the re- peated reading of passages which manifest it in the highest degree. The pupil, therefore, must listen ever as he reads for the harmonies of line with line ; of form with content ; and of all with the theme, and with the purpose of the author. The results of this training are to increase his ability to enjoy, to quicken his power of discrimination, and ultimately to refine his nature. In his use of ornament Milton exhibits marked pecu- liarities. His work deals with scenes and persons that are in a sense the creations of his own brain. Of neces- lo INTRODUCTION. sity, he would rely upon abundant illustrations drawn from human experience to make clear to the reader these imaginative conceptions. As his own experience had lain much in the world of books, we find these similes to be based rather upon the fabled experiences or-the heroes of the ancient and the mediaeval world than upon those of daily hfe. In them he imitates Homer and Virgil, who were fond of elaborating their illustrations with an abundance of picturesque detail, but Milton is often superior to them in the appositeness of these de- tails to the main thought. The celebrated simile of the leaves in Vallombrosa (/'. Z. I. 302) is an example. The original element of similarity lay in the countless numbers of the leaves and of the angel forms, but as the author's mind dwelt on the picture it had formed, other points of similarity grouped themselves around the first. The motion of the leaves upon the huddling waters of the brook where they had fallen from their proud station above, their faded appearance, — although lately so beautiful in their autumnal colors, — the gloomy overarching can- opy of mighty trees, — all seem marvellously suggestive of the state of the rebel angels. We have applied to a formal illustration the name Simik. There are a few other kinds of poetic adorn- ment the importance of which necessitates some special study of them by the pupil. First in order is the Meta- phor, in which the poet apphes to some object of thought the name of another object of thought which resembles it in some especial manner. His purpose in using the figure is to please by the beauty of the thought suggested or to impress by the striking character of the resemblance indicated. THE STUDY OF POETRY. ii For example, Milton speaks of his poem as if it were a bird coaring high in air (/*. L. I. 14), because the suggestion of a like- ness between objects in most respects so diverse seems to him a beautiful thought. Again, he calls the glossy slag that encrusts the slope of a volcanic hill a scurf, not because the likeness sug- gested is beautiful, but because it adds vividness to our mental image of the object described. The second figure is Synecdoche. In this the under- lying principle is that of substituting for the general name of an object of thought the name of some special portion of it, by which means the mental image is given more definite outlines than it would have if the name of the whole object were used. For example, in P. L. I. 203, Milton speaks of a whale as slum- bering on the " Norway foam." Note the suggestiveness of this word " foam " as compared with any general word for the sea. The turbulent winds that drive the fisherman to seek for shelter, the illusion of breaking waves that assists the belief that the object perceived is an island, the impression of the peaceful shelter "under the /(?(?," are all suggested by this single synecdoche. It is evident that the use of this ornament aids in securing condensation in the style. A third kind of figurative expression is Metonymy. In this, as in the others, a substitution of names takes place, but the objects involved are related not through resemblance or through partial identity, but through habitual association in thought. As such associations are very largely the result of special intellectual training, the figure is less intelligible to the general reader than either of the others previously mentioned. Milton, because of his great learning, is prone to its use. 12 INTRODUCTION. For example, in P. L. I. 15, wishing to call up in his readers' minds an image of the splendid epics of the (ireek poets, and to assert his intention of surpassing them, he declares that his song intends to soar " above the Aonian mount." The reader's compre- hension of this passage is conditioned upon his knowing that the Greek poets claimed to be inspired by Muses who dwelt on Mount HeliccM), which was situated in a district of Boeotia in Greece called Aonia. If the phrase just quoted provokes this series of associated ideas in his mind, he perceives that it has been substituted for the phrase, " above the works of the Greek poets." This figure is employed, like synecdoche, to please the mind by its rich suggestiveness, and by its ap- peals to man's inherent love for symbohsm, but unless sparingly used it is likely to produce obscurity in the style. The last kind of figurative adornment that we shall consider is the Transferred EpitJiet, a favorite ornament with Milton, In this figure, a descriptive word whose apphcation is clearly evident from the context is trans- ferred from its normal place in the sentence and made to modify grammatically some word which it does not really qualify. An instance occurs in P. L. I. 120, where it is clear that it is the anticipated " war " that is thought of as " successful," and not the '•' hope " (to which the adjective is grammatically related). This figure, like the others, lends condensation to the style, and reflection upon all four will make clear wherein lies the force and the beauty of imaginative expression, " Where more is meant than meets the ear." We have mentioned as elements of style diction and sentence structure. The student should train himself (i) THE STUDY OF POETRY. 13 to observe the character of the words habitually used by Milton, asking himself whether they are native to the English language or importations, are learned or collo- quial, are chosen for directness of import or for subtlety of suggestion, and (2) to note foreign idioms, unusual turns of expression, and inversions of the natural order of sentences. He thus gains in appreciation of how lan- guage may be made more expressive by art, and gains in that power over his fellow-men which comes from effective speech. As the rhythmic form is the attribute which especially distinguishes poetry, it is necessary for the student to keep that element constantly within the sphere of his observation. The technical knowledge required for its appreciation is very hmited in amount. In brief, it is necessary to know that rhythm is based on recurring stresses or accents in spoken words, and since certain groups of stressed and unstressed syllables bear special names for convenience of reference, it is also necessary to learn to recognize the leading groups by name. One of these groups is called a poetic foot, and a definite number of feet constituting a single line of poetry is called a verse. Verses are named from their predominating foot, ancft their normal number of feet. The feet most frequently used by English poets are the Iambus, consisting of ar^ unstressed followed by a stressed syllable, and its coun-', terpart in reverse, the Trochee. Next in importance come the Anapcest, consisting of two unstressed syllable^ followed by a stressed syllable, and its counterpart ir^' reverse, the Dactyl. 14 INTRODUCTION. These four types are exemplified in the mitial feet of the four following lines : — w / Iambus, — Of Man's | first disobedience and the fruit; — / w Trochee, — Favored [ of Heaven so highly, to fall off — w \j / Anapaest, — Shook the Ar|senal and fuhnined over Greece — Dactyl, — Myriads | though bright — if he whom mutual league — . These four kinds of feet form the theoretical basis of all Milton's versification. Where he seems to use feet of two unstressed or of two equally stressed syllables, it is generally evident either that one of the two is of pre- dominant importance in the thought, or that it is followed by a natural pause in utterance which lends to it an arti- ficial importance. The foot thus resolves itself into an iambus or a trochee. (The word " stress " has been employed in preference to the common term " accent," because it comprehends within its scope syllables made prominent by the delay attending their pronunciation, as well as by the force with which they are uttered.) Milton employs in his minor poems iambic dimeter, trimeter, tetrameter, pentameter, and hexameter. His f.\vorite lyric form is iambic tetrameter, which he varies by very frequently omitting the initial (unaccented) sylla- ble of the first foot. His favorite measure for more dignified work is iambic pentameter, which he varies by occasionally adding an extra (unaccented) syllable after the fifth foot. It must be noted that the verse is named from its predominating foot, but rarely does a verse contain nothing but this kind. Adopting five THE STUDY OF POETRY. 15 iambic feet, for example, as a basis of construction, the poet exchanges one, two, sometimes three of these for other kinds, skilfully distributing the substituted feet in different parts of successive verses, so as to produce a pleasing variety of accent, to enhance the expressiveness of the language, and yet never to take away the distinc- tive movement of the measure. The art of the versifica- tion consists in the "aptness " of the distribution of the feet, in connection with the immediate subject of thought. The versification of Pai'cidise Lost is of the type known I as blank verse. Its normal line consists of five iambic feet, and therefore contains ten syllables. An extra un- accented syllable appears not infrequently at the end of a line, thus giving it what is called a weak ending. (See P. L. I. 2t^.) The substitution of a dactyl or an anapaest for the normal foot would also increase the num- ber of syllables to eleven, and this variation often occurs. In this connection it is to be noted that the use of the different feet is so skilfully regulated that the movement is hastened or retarded in harmony with the sentiment expressed. If, in addition to this, words are selected whose consonant and vowel sounds are also in harmony with the thought, we have the device called Onomato- poeia, which is used to intensify the impression made upon the reader's mind. For example, in the passage P. L. I. 169-177, the trochee ''wing'd with'' at the beginning of verse 175, by its powerful stress on the first syllable when the mind naturally expects an unaccented syllable, suggests to the ear the extreme velocity with which the lightning shafts begin their flight, and then the broken, jerky movement of the rest of the verse, the hiss r i6 INTRODUCTION. of the s's in the verse that follows, the vibrant quality of the consonant and liquid sounds, and the sonority of the open vowel sounds in line 177, — all aid in stimulating the reader to reproduce in his imagination the sight and sound of a lightning flash and its succeeding roar of thunder. The pupil must ever be on the alert to notice these brilliantly written passages, in which Milton excelled because of his natural bias towards the grandiose, and for which the nature of his subject offered abundant inspiration. One element which adds greatly to the effect of versi- fication is the varied distribution of pauses throughout the verses of the poem. A natural and marked pause in the sense occurring anywhere except at the end of a verse is called a ccesura. It is a characteristic of Milton that he distributes these pauses with the utmost skill, employ- ing them to give variety to the verse and at the same time to lend emphasis to the thought. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 17 SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. I. The poems of Milton were addressed to a public that was assumed to be conversant with certain groups of facts in history and science, with certain literary forms and traditions, and with certain general ideas of the nature and characteristics of the world and its inhabi- tants (human and superhuman). The student of to-day who hopes to read these works intelligently must strive to reproduce imaginatively within his own mind as far as possible the mental state of those readers to whom Milton consciously addressed his works, that by so doing he may be able to judge what the words of Milton con- 7tote, as well as what they denote. He must exchange his thought of this unUmited Universe filled with millions of suns sweeping through space with inconceivable velocity, each possibly attended by its world of planets, — a Uni- verse in which the earth and its inhabitants seem of only in- cidental importance, — for the thought of a World of very hmited extent, composed of a few concentric shells or spheres, enclosed in a rigid encasing firmament, and exist- ing only for the use of mankind. He must close his eyes to the work of modern geographers, and think of this round earth as did the immediate successors of Magellan and Drake. He must discard history and substitute legend. Above all, his imagination must be peopled with figures from the past, — from Greece, from Pales- c 1 8 INTRODUCTIOiN. tine, from Mediaeval Europe, — from the world of fact and the world of fancy. The following pages are intended to aid him in this backward metamorphosis. Physical Science. 2. In 1620 Francis Bacon published the Novum Organum, in which were first clearly enunciated those principles of scientific induction which have ever since guided the research of the investigator in every depart- ment of knowledge. Without the tests of validity therein laid down, science, as a body of known truths, could not exist at all. And when Milton wrote, not enough time had elapsed since the publication of Bacon's work to allow of much progress in the correction of former errors or in the establishment of a body of newly discovered truths. Consequently, his works reflect the traditions and assumptions of the mediaeval period, which were the results of much acute, but more hasty observation, and of ingenious speculation and reasoning, many of them bearing the authority of long acceptance among the learned, but all untrustworthy because founded on un- sound premises. 3. In physics and chemistry, gravitation, as a uni- versal tendency of portions of matter towards other por- tions, was as yet unknown to science. Objects in space were assumed to exist in the relation of /// and down (not in relation to some centre, but absolutely), and to possess the inherent tendency to seek a lower position under the influence of their own weight whenever they were not supported by some external force. Thus all SEVENTEEN TH -CENTURY IDEAS. 19 matter, if left to itself, would become distributed at suc- cessive levels in space according to its weight. 4. Matter was conceived as atomic in structure. The number, size, form, and other physical characteristics of the atom can best be learned by reading P. L. II. 898-906. Atoms were thought to be subject to four pri- mary forces or principles, — " Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry." By these forces, acting upon the atoms either singly or in conjunction and with various degrees of intensity, the innumerable objects of the natural world were conceived to be built up. Since the forces v\^ere four in number, objects would naturally fall into four classes, of which earth, air, water, and fire were taken as types, solids in general being considered as earthy, gases as airy, etc. The four typical substances were generally known as the "elements"; hence arose the expression "In his ele- ment," meaning " In that element in which he naturally exists and thrives" (as a fish in water, or a man in air). The expression " The element" was used distinc- tively of the air, as the chief in importance owing to its relation to man, the central object of interest in the universe. 5. In accordance with the law stated above, the elements would tend to assume certain positions relative to one another ; fire, the most subtle and refined, ever mounting upward, earthy substances ever seeking a lower level. Therefore the upper regions of the world, though un- known because inaccessible to man, were assumed to be composed of the purest form of matter, called by Milton fie7'y essence or (from the Greek word for fire) empyreal substance. We should conceive of this substance as re- 20 INTRODUCTION. sembling fire, not in its attribute of heat, but in its sub- tlety, delicacy, purity, and brilliancy. A fifth substance, called ether, had found place in the speculations of the earliest philosophers, and was generally known as the quintessence. This was the purest form of matter con- ceivable by man, and was supposed by them to fill all the regions of space not occupied by the grosser substances. Milton seems to have used the words ^^ ethereaV and ^^ onpyreaV as synonymous. 6. Among solids the metals have always been of prime importance to man, and certain phenomena common to them all (such as their greater relative weight, their gen- eral appearance in nature in the form of sulphates and sulphides, and their behavior when brought into contact with mercury) early led to the belief that all metals wei'e co7npounds of mercury and siilpJiiir in different pro- portions, gold being the compound most perfectly pro- portioned. This belief led to the attempt to convert base metals into gold by blending with any given metal some compound containing the exact quantity of sulphur and mercury needed to correct the misproportion in the baser metal and the chemicals fitted to promote the mys- terious blending process. This hypothetical compound was sought by all students of chemistry for many cen- turies, and the study pursued with that end in view was called Alchemy. (Later, an amalgam used in making musical instruments was also termed alchemy, by me- tonomy.) The dream of the alchemist was that he should ulti- mately succeed in compounding in his alembics or re- torts a solid of mercury and sulphur perfectly, blended SEVENTEENTH CENTURY IDEAS. 21 and " potentized " by mysterious processes, in which heat was the principal agency employed, — a substance that should be capable of transmuting other metals from their baser condition into gold pure as itself. This hypotheti- cal substance received the name of the Fhi/osopher's Stone. Tlie alchemist's second quest was for an "elixir" capable of sustaining and prolonging life indefinitely ; this was sometimes called Potable Gold, because in it the perfect substance, gold, must of course play a chief part. 7. A study so fascinating, a possibility so attractive, could not hold the attention of the world for many centuries without leaving a permanent impress upon its language. Thus we find Milton referring to the attempt to " bind volatile Hermes" (mercury), and depicting the action of ^tna in eruption as that of an immense " limbec " in which the contents are ''sublimed" {i.e. vaporized) " with mineral fury." Milton conceived that the crea- tion of the World consisted in bringing the atoms of mat- ter contained in that portion of space which the World occupies, under the sway of the four primary forces; and ' that their orderly and harmonious interaction, as ex- hibited in the World-processes everywhere manifest (which processes formed the subject of the alchemist's researches), was maintained through the direct control of the Creator. This reference to the World as occupying only a portion of space leads us to an examination of Milton's astronomical conceptions. 22 INTRODUCTION. Astronomy. 8. From the second until the sixteenth century all ideas about astronomy had been shaped in accordance with the system propounded by Ptolemy, an astronomer of Alexandria, in his Almagest. The theories pro- pounded in this system represent the garnered know- ledge and speculation of all students of astronomy up to the time of Ptolemy (about 150 a.d.). The main features of his system, together with the physical facts on which it was based, are embodied in the following brief statement. The Ptolemaic Theoij. Since vision is limited in every direction, and it is impossible to conceive of a boundary beyond which space does not exist, the early astronomers were led to believe that all that portion of space visible to man was cut off from surrounding space by an opaque spherical boun- dary. The earth seems to occupy a central position within this enclosing sphere and hence received the distinctive name of " The Centre." To the casual observer the heav- enly bodies appear to move uniformly about the earth once in about twenty-four hours, without changing their positions with relation to one another, and this fact was most simply accounted for by the assumption that these bodies were set rigidly in a sphere, \vhich by revolution upon its axis bore them along in unchanged relations ; hence their name of " Fixed Stars." Being irregularly distributed, and exhibiting various degrees of brightness. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 23 they naturally form well-defined groups whose principal stars suggest to the imagination the outlines of various objects in nature. In the course of time the entire sphere of fixed stars has become divided into such groups, recognized by astronomers, and called " Con- stellations." (See 12.) 9. But closer observation has shown that there are a few heavenly bodies whose positions relative to their com- panions are continually changing. Thus when a fixed star has moved through an arc of 360° and has returned to its original position in the sky, these bodies are seen to have moved relatively faster or slower, and to occupy a position in advance or in the rear of their original posi- tions. From this circumstance they early received the name of "Planets" (= wanderers). Seven such bodies were known to Ptolemy, and their motion was explained by the assumption that each was situated in a separate zone or sphere, which had its own rate of revolution. At first it seemed that all the heavenly bodies revolved about a single invisible axis passing through the centre of the earth, and moved with great regularity, but certain pecul- iarities of motion later discovered led to the additional assumption that invisible crystaUine spheres existed just outside the sphere of the fixed stars, and exerted a dis- turbing influence upon the motion of the spheres within. These crystaUine spheres were conceived by mediaeval astronomers to be the "waters above the firmament" mentioned in Genesis i. 7. They therefore employed the word "firmament" as a technical expression for the sphere of the fixed sta7's, considered as a firm, transparent foundation for the crystalline ocean^ but Milton employs it 24 INTRODUCTION. in its more common signification as a general name for the entire visible heavens. The crystalline region would serve to protect the inner system from possible disturb- ance caused by the action of the forces in outer space upon the bounding sphere (see 8), as well as to modify the motion of the inner spheres. Irregularities still later discovered compelled astronomers to assume that the axes of the planetary spheres did not pass through the earth, and led to the conception of eccentric motion.^ 10. It was beheved that the outer bounding sphere was in rapid motion, and hence it received the name " Primum Mobile " ( = first moving) . Its motion was communicated by friction to the crystalhne spheres within and then (somewhat modified) to the sphere of the fixed stars and the planetary spheres. Thus every sphere had an individ- ual motion, resulting from the modifying influence of the motions of all the rest.- In the accompanying diagram 1 I.e. circular motion that is uniform but does not appear so to the observer, because he is not situated at the centre of the circular path. In P. L. III. 575, Milton probably employs the word in its original Latin sense of fro?n the centre^ declaring that Satan's route to the sun from the point where he chanced to be may have been towards or from the pole ("up or down"), towards or from the earth (" by centre or eccentric "), or along the ecliptic (" by longi- tude"). [See II, and diagram, p. 26.] 2 A most beautiful conception was suggested to the imagination of poets by the contemplation of the planetary motions. Must not their swift and even swing through the all-embracing ether give rise to rapid vibrations, and therefore to musical tones? Must not these tones, harmonious in pitch and exquisite in quality, ever resound in the ears of the gods, though imperceptible to our grosser senses? No other imaginative conception has taken firmer hold of the minds of the poets than this of "The music of the spheres." SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 25 (see p. 26) the order of the spheres and the names of the planets are indicated ; the planets are represented in hypothetical positions, in order to illustrate certain situ- ations to which Milton makes reference. 1 1 . The most important of the seven so-called planets is the sun, whose light swallows up that of all other bodies in its vicinity. Its motion is apparently slower than that of the fixed stars, and it therefore seems to fall back among them from day to day, until in a year it has made one complete backward circuit of 360° in a path somewhat inclined to the celestial equator. This path is called the '"'ecliptic" (see 9, foot-note), and the points where the ecliptic intersects the celestial equator are called the " equinoctial points." The sun reaches these two points about March 21 and Septem- ber 23 respectively. When its beams thus " culminate from the equator," its light is distributed equally on all parts of the lighted hemisphere of the earth at the same distance from the equator, and day and night are equal in length all over the world, whence the name " equinox." The frequency of violent storms at those seasons has given rise to the still current traditions of the "equinoctial" or '"line storm." Milton, however, probably employs the phrase equinoctial winds {P. L. II. 637) to mean simply equatorial or trade winds, by a species of metonomy. 12. Since the paths of all the seven planets lie within a belt of the heaven? occupying eight degrees each side of the ecliptic, this belt has received the distinctive name of " Zodiac." It was early divided into twelve portions, called " Signs of the Zodiac," corresponding to the succes- 26 INTRODUCTION. The World as represented in Paradise Lost.i Section in the plane of the ediptic. 1 Note that (a) the eccentricity of the planetary orbits is exag- gerated, in order to render it apparent to the eye ; (^) the positions of the planets are so chosen as to illustrate situations to which Milton refers ; (c) the dotted circles represent simply limits beyond which the planets never pass (Milton conceived the spheres as zones in the firmament [see 9] without material boundaries) ; (df) although the sun's motion is always from east to west, yet since his motion is slower than that of the fixed stars, he appears to move backward among them, making a complete circuit of the zodiac once in 365+ days. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 27 sive months of the year and each containing one impor- tant constellation. These, and constellations in general, were made use of in locating the positions of heavenly bodies. Thus Milton refers to a comet in Ophiuchus, the sun in Taurus, etc. Those mentioned in these selec- tions are the following : — Andromeda. — A constellation lying a little above Aries, named from the maiden in Greek mythology whom Perseus rescued from a sea-monster. (See below, Cas- siopeia.) Aries (The Ram). — The name of the first sign of the zodiac, counting from the vernal equinox, and of the con- stellation originally ^ occupying that sign. The latter was supposed by the Greeks to represent the Ram that bore the Golden Fleece (see 57). In his head is seen a star of great brilliancy, placed just beneath the foot of Andromeda {P. L. IIL 558). Cassiopeia. — A constellation lying between Andromeda and the north pole of the heavens. It is named from a queen of Ethiopia who boasted that she was more beauti- ful than the Nereids (see 50). Neptune at their request sent a sea-monster to ravage the coast, and Andromeda, the queen's daughter, was exposed on a rock to appease his hunger, but was rescued by Perseus, who with the aid of the head of Medusa (see 52) transformed the monster 1 Since the original division of the zodiac into signs was made (about 150 B.C.), the equinoctial points, and therefore the several signs, have receded along the ecliptic about 30° or one whole sign. Consequently, the twelfth constellation, Pisces, now lies in the first siirn, Aries. 28 INTRODUCTION. into a rock. All the human actors in this drama were afterwards transformed into constellations. Cynosure (The Lesser Bear) . — The constellation which contains the pole star, and is, therefore, suggestive of guidance. Milton calls it the " Tyrian Cynosure " in allusion to the fact that the earliest navigators to employ its aid were the Phoenicians, whose principal seaports were Tyre and Sidon. The Greeks fabled that Callisto, an Arcadian nymph bound to virginity by her vows to Diana, bore a son, Areas, to Jupiter. Diana in punishment trans- formed them into bears, and Jupiter, to save them from huntsmen, transferred theni to the skies, where they still shine as the Greater and the Lesser Bear. Since x'\rcas was the grandson of the king of Arcady, Milton calls the pole star in the Lesser Bear the " Star of Arcady." ^ The Greater and the Lesser Bear lie so far to the north that in Milton's latitude they do not sink below the horizon and are therefore visible throughout the night. Libra (The Scales). — Formerly the seventh constel- lation in the zodiac, and therefore used »by Milton with Aries to denote its extreme eastern and western limits as seen from the pole {^P. L. III. 558). Ophiuchus. — A constellation of great size, represent- ing a man grasping a serpent. It lies on and just above the equator. Since Milton places it in the arctic sky and employs it especially to create in the mind an 1 I cannot agree with those who interpret this phrase as the con- stellation of the Greater Bear. The form of the phrase and the context clearly indicate that the thought is of a single guiding point, and the word " or" seems to me to introduce not another object of thought but another expression for the same object. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 29 image of an object of great length, he probably includes in his thought of it the Serpent held by Ophiuchus, which is, strictly speaking, a separate constellation. The Ser- pent winds its way for a long distance among the other northern constellations. Orion. — The most brilliant constellation in the heavens, representing a hunter equipped with belt, sword, club, and shield. It lies on the equator south and east of Taurus. (See below.) Taurus (The Bull). — Formerly the second constella- tion in the zodiac, representing in outhne the horns, head, and shoulders of a bull. It is of especial interest because it contains a very beautiful group of seven stars, called "The Pleiades," which from the earhest times have aided mariners to find their way over the seas, and which were credited by astrologers (see 16) with exerting a benign influence upon the earth. As the sign Taurus is the second, counting from the vernal equinoctial point (see 11), the sun traverses it during the second month of spring {^P. L. I. 769), re- maining in it from April 19 to May 20. 13. It will be observed that if the sun, earth, and moon should assume the relative positions indicated in the diagram (p. 26), the sun would cease to be visible from a certain portion of the earth's surface. I'he sun under these conditions is said to be in eclipse. Although astronomers early discovered the cause of eclipses, in the popular mind they were held to be ominous of evil, and to bring evil fortune to any undertaking entered upon during their continuance. 14. As the planets are visible only when they occupy 30 INTRODUCTION. a position at some distance from the sun, each planet will appear sometimes in advance of the sun in the morning sky, sometimes following the sun at evening. It is called evening or morning star accordingly. Venus — being at times an especially notable object in the west at twilight, because its brilliancy makes it visible when the light of the other heavenly bodies is still lost in that of the sun — received from the ancients the dis- tinctive name of " Hesperus " or The Evening Star. In the diagram (p. 26), Venus is represented in its tradi- tional character as " evening star," closely following the sun and therefore visible in the west at sunset. When, in another part of its course, it appeared in the morning in advance of the sun, it was called " Lucifer " or the " Light-bringer." 15. The myriads of fixed stars and the planets together comprise all the bodies commonly visible in the heavens. At irregular intervals, small bodies of matter (of which space contains vast numbers) enter our atmosphere un- der the influence of gravitation, and, becoming heated by the friction caused by their rapid motion through the air, present the appearance of lines of fire. These bodies are called meteors or, more popularly, shooting stars. Other luminous bodies of greater size, called comets, appear in the sky at rare and apparently irregular intervals. These bodies are notable for their form, like a ball of fire, from which generally streams a train of flame. As the causes of meteors and comets were unknown to the ancients, their appearance in the sky was interpreted as a warning from God of some dire calamity threatening a monarch or a state. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 31 16. Furthermore, each planet was supposed to exert on human beings an influence corresponding to the char- acter of the Greek deity from whom it received its name. This influence was beneficial or harmful, powerful or weak, in its effect upon any individual, according to the position of the planet in the heavens at his birth. For example, two planets 180° apart (as are Mars and Saturn in the diagram, page 26) are in their most unfavorable position or " aspect," and their " influence " is especially malign, because their rays act in " opposition " to one another. Certain of the fixed stars and constellations, also, were held to affect earthly events when in some dominant position. For example, Orion (see 12), which oc- cupies such a position with respect to the sun during the season of the so-called "equinoctial storms" (see 11), was held to be the direct cause of the violent storms that often usher in and close the winter, and that so well befit his martial character. Sirius, a fiery and malignant- looking star, by acting in conjunction with the sun in the late summer, was held to cause the parching heat which shrivels and blackens all vegetation. The pseudo-sc\Qx\cQ dealing with the influence of the heavenly bodies on human life and character is called astrology, and many of its terms have won their way into common speech, such as " influence," '' saturnine," " ill-starred." " Disastrous," a word of Greek origin equivalent to " ill-starred," probably retains in MUton's poetry this astrological impUcation. The Coper7iican Theory. 17. In 1543 Copernicus, by publishing to the world his theory that the sun, not the earth, is the body about 32 INTRODUCTION. which the planets move, laid the foundation for a more correct science of astronomy. Galileo, a Tuscan as- tronomer, by applying the already well-known properties of lenses to the purposes of astronomical study, was able to construct an astronomical telescope by the aid of which the theories of Copernicus were corroborated, all the planets were shown to shine like the moon by light reflected from the sun, and inequalities upon the surface of the moon were observed. The latter (now held to be the craters and jagged walls of extinct volcanoes) were long supposed to be mountains, plains, rivers, and lakes. At the time when Paradise Lost was composed the Co- pernican theory had become the one preferred among the learned, but Milton seems to have felt that its truth was not wholly demonstrated, and therefore felt free to adopt for his poem the Ptolemaic system as the one more capable of poetic and dramatic treatment. The chief advantage of the latter theory was that it gave full rein to the imagination in regard to this region outside the Primum Mobile. Since no eye had ever penetrated that opaque barrier, Milton, seizing upon the hint con- tained in the Bibhcal phrases ''ascend into Heaven," "cast down to Hell," could represent both Heaven and Hell as located in outer space, the one above, the other below the World. ^ An account of these regions will be more comprehensible if given in connection with an ex- amination of the religious and theological beliefs of his time. (See 70.) 1 The tendency to confound certain terms shown by many editors of this poem suggests a word of caution in regard to the use of the expressions, "The Universe," "Heaven," "The World," "The SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 33 Superstitions. 18. A curious witness to the growth of scientific knowledge since the time of Milton is the subsequent decay of superstitions then universally accepted. His references to witchcraft in general and to local tradi- tions of the supernatural are numerous. The acknow- ledged supreme goddess of witchcraft, since the days of the Greeks, had been Hecate ; but each country of Europe had its own demonology. The malignant Norse Night-hag {P. L. H. 662), whose abhorred rites required the shedding of infants' blood ; the more harmless Welsh Mab, whose petty annoyances punished slovenliness in maids, and who deigned to accept their propitiatory offerings of junkets set out at night for her delectation {L' Allegro, 102) ; the Enghsh Will-o'-the-Wisp, whose characteristic was merely mischievous delight in leading travellers astray with his mysterious lantern,^ — were all Earth." The Earth is man's abode, a sphere of a few thousand miles in diameter, ultimately accessible in every part. The World is this sphere plus its enclosing spheres, the latter being knowable only through the faculty of vision, and limiting the operation of that faculty. The Universe is this World plus all space outside and its contents, including Heaven, Hell, and Chaos. Heaven as a proper noun (and therefore employing the initial capital) means the region in the Universe set apart for the abode of the Deity. In such phrases as " heaven and earth " (^P. L. U. 1004) the word "heaven" is a common noun, meaning the encircling firmament or sky (see P. L. VII. 274). As this contains many spheres, the plural form, " heavens," is frequently used. 1 Milton seems to confuse him with another imp of the same type, called Friar Rush. D 34 INTRODUCTION. familiar to Milton's contemporaries and were implicitly believed to exist. So, too, was Mab's counterpart of the opposite sex, the drudging goblin (or hobgoblin), who at times made mischief for the farm laborers, but if pro- pitiated with a bowl of cream would perform the work of several men in a single night. At night, for at break of day every visitant from the other world must seek his hiding-place. Ghosts might " revisit the glimpses of the moon," but never brave the stare of the sun. 19. The moon, indeed, is naturally associated with witchcraft, since Hecate is at times identified with Diana, goddess of the moon — probably because of the many mysterious transformations which it undergoes. Witches, it was said, could cause some of these changes. For example, they could bring about an eclipse of the moon, or could draw it out of its course, towards the earth {P. L. II. 665 and I. 785). The sports of fairy elves seem more suited to the peaceful character of a moon- light night, however, than do violent or evil deeds ; and Milton himself is more interested in the kindlier spirits, the beautiful and playful creatures that haunt forest and stream, than in the " meddling elf" that blasts the farmers' crops i^Comus^ 846), the '' unlaid ghost " whose unatoned sins forbid him to rest quietly in the grave (^Comus, 434), or his fellow-shade that cannot bear to abandon the body which has ministered to his sensual pleasures. Religion had its share in these superstitions, as witness the myth of the Archangel Michael referred to in Lycidas, 161. On the southern coast of Cornwall is a rocky promontory now called St. Michael's Mount. Here, the Angel was once seen by some hermits, seated in a natural stone SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 35 chair, gazing seaward, where lay (far away to the south, but faintly visible, according to local tradition) "Naman- cos and Bayona's hold," on the coast of Spain. Milton interweaves that tradition with another local one of a Cornish giant whom he names Bellerus, from the ancient Latin name of Land's End, the scene of his exploits. It was a common matter of religious behef that the angels whose revolt from God's authority forms the sub- ject of these selections, after imprisonment in Hell, escaped to the Earth, where they became demons inhabit- ing the four elements (see 4) arid later won over mankind to worship them in the guise of heathen gods. This notion is the result of an engrafting of such Scriptural references as that to the "powers of the air" upon the Platonist doctrine of " demons " or spirits occupying different regions of the World, as the depths of the earth, the atmosphere, etc. 20. Milton's allusions to current superstitious beliefs are numerous, yet they are too unimportant to admit of their fuller treatment here. The student must simply be quick to perceive in such a reference as that to the unlucky /(f/Zside {P. L. IL 755), or to magic numbers like seven, 7iitie, and three, an appeal to his reader's traditional ideas of the supernatural significance of things now deemed of no importance. Mythology. 21. Milton's mind was stored with the mythologies of Greece and Rome as they appeared in the works of the classic poets. These mythologies were not fixed and consistent in form, but conceptions originally crude were 36 INTRODUCTION. developed and modified by each successive poet in such a way as to embody the results of his own reflection upon the phenomena of life. Thus m Milton's works we meet with various forms of the same legend, from the primitive one to his own modification thereof.' Myths in their primitive form probably embodied the literal beliefs of men of the earliest ages, to whose child- like minds (for example) the assumption that the storm cloud or the darkness of night was a veritable dragon that swallowed up the sun was the simplest explanation of the phenomenon of the daily disappearance of that body. But as men developed moral perceptions and sesthetic tastes, there gathered about such bits of primitive scientific explanation encrustations in the shape of additional de- tails intended either to account for the existence of such supernatural beings as the dragon above mentioned (imag- inary genealogies of the gods), or to adapt them to the uses of art (romantic fictions), or to employ them in the expression of moral ideas (symbolism) . In any given age all these features of the myth were probably present, but each affected the conceptions of people of a certain type only. The uneducated classes, for instance, may have believed that the sun was an archer named i\pollo, who rode daily through the heavens, and who was the son of the ruler of that region. The stu- dent of science of the same period believed that the sun was a luminous body of matter endowed in some manner with the power 1 The accounts of the various myths here given will be those employed by Milton, and it need not surprise the student to find them, in some respects, different from the accounts given in some works of general reference. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 37 of motion, and having its origin in the unknown but all-powerful source of all things. He was content to express the first fact under the image oi personaliiy, and the other under the image oi parent- age. The poet and moralist saw in the sun a proof of beneficent care over the universe conjoined at times with stern discipline to mankind, and seized upon the glory, the beauty, and the terror of the sun to adorn his poem or to point its moral. The events were ascribed to localities exhibiting suitable characteristics, local heroes and local legendary happenings w-ere interwoven with the original myth, confusion of language distorted its original form, and the result is an incongruous mixture of elements, some significant of deep thought, some picturesque only, some so crude as to be unin- teresting or repulsive. A n cieii t Cosm ograpJiy. 22. The primitive Greeks conceived the sky to be a solid arch, supported in some way at the outer edge of the earth. As their knowledge of the earth's surface was hmited to a circle of a few thousand miles' radius, they supposed it to be a flat, disc-like expanse of land, bounded on all sides by water. They conceived the ocean to be a stream girdling the earth, fed by the rivers flowing from the land into the great basins of the Mediterranean and the Black seas. To the overarching sky was given the name of Uranus (Heaven), to the solid disc the name Gaia, or Terra (Earth), to the ocean stream the name Oceanus. What lay below the disc they did not know, but they imagined that there lay a vast region of unbroken darkness (for they supposed the sun to rest from his labors when he reached a point below the horizon, and not to traverse the space below). To this region, em- ployed by the gods as a dungeon, was given the name Tartarus. 38 INTRODUCTION. 23. When the idea of the continued hfe of man's spirit after the death of the body had developed, they conceived that above the dungeon of Tartarus lay a sort of under world, called Hades, inhabited by the spirits of the dead, the approach to which lay through cavernous passages in the earth's surface. As the ethical conceptions of reward and punishment after death developed, the entire lower region became in thought subdivided into Elysium (the abode of the souls of the good), Tartarus, (formerly the dungeon of the gods, now used as a place of punishment for the souls of the wicked), and other regions of less importance. By successive poets imaginative details were added to this meagre account. The cavernous opening in the earth's surface through which lay one approach to Hades was said to be guarded by monstrous forms, notably by a huge three-headed dog, Cerberus, whose jaws dripped poison, whose hair was formed of snakes, whose body terminated in a dragon, and whose roar struck terror into the mind of the hearer. After passing this monster and traversing a difficult descent, the visitor would find his passage barred by the Styx, a dark and sluggish stream (or rather labyrinth of creeks and inlets) encircling nine times the realm of Hades. Other rivers channelled the abode of the dead, — Acheron ( — woe) , a river of muddy and bitter waters ; Cocytus (= lament), a tributary of the Acheron ; Phlegethon ( = burn), whose banks were scorched and blackened by fire. In the portion assigned to the souls of the blessed, called Elysium, flowed the Lethe (= forget), a drink from whose waters dispelled care and destroyed all memory of the past life. Plato described the blessed- SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 39 ness of life in the Elysian Fields so eloquently that Cleom- brotus is said to have committed suicide after reading the description, in order to enter at once upon the enjoyment of that life. The ruler of the entire space below the earth was originally Erebus, but afterward Hades (called Orcus by the Romans) assumed control there. (See 30 and 31.) 24. With the elaboration of myths Tartarus became gradually peopled with condemned souls, to invent suit- able punishments for whom the poets exercised their fancy. Tantalus, King of Lydia, for example, was said to have killed his son and served his flesh as meat at a banquet at which the gods were his guests, in order to test their divinity. They were alleged to have avenged the insult by placing him in Tartarus, in the presence of a feast forever unattainable. Boughs of trees laden with fruit which hung over his head swung out of his grasp ere he could pluck ; and the water in which he was plunged to his chin sank ever as he lowered his lips to drink. 25. As early man could conceive of no action except as originated and directed by an indwelling life like that which dominated his own body, the Greeks believed that in clouds, streams, trees, winds, earthquakes — in fact, in all the phenomena of nature — there was manifested the volition of indwelling spirits, to which they gave appropriate names. The Romans, with hke conceptions, created a mythol- ogy so similar that the poets are in the habit of using the Greek and the Roman names of most deities of natural objects interchangeably, in spite of the fact that 40 INTRODUCTION. the kindred myths of the two races often show marked differences of detail. Thus the Roman Jove, or Jupiter, is assumed to be the same deity as the Greek Zeus, not because he is identical in character or functions, but because he is associated with the same fundamental idea of domination over the elements. It is to be noted that these myths referred primarily to natural objects, and names taken from them may apply either to the natural object or to its indwelling deity. Thus Hades is a region, and also a deity ruling that region. 26. The multiplicity of natural phenomena provocative of either curiosity or delight gave abundant stimulus to the imagination of primitive man. The mightier forces of nature, such as volcanoes and earthquakes, were pict- ured as giants, whose brute strength, uncontrolled by intelligence or beneficent purpose, was exerted only in destruction. In sun, moon, air, clouds, and wild beasts, on the other hand, were seen the operations of deities more kindly, but still mighty and at times violent. In streams, trees, and flowers, and in the gentler animals, were seen the manifestation of life still more akin to that of man, and often capable of communion with him. In time these deities became grouped into famihes, and legends grew up in regard to their origin and history. As Milton often refers to these genealogies, and to inci- dents in these legends, we will notice the chief deities in the order that they appear in ancient cosmogony. Ancient Cosmogony. 27. In the beginning, said the Greek philosophers, matter must have existed in a confused and formless SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 41 mass occupying the yawning abyss of space. The origi- nal condition was therefore named Chaos (^ = yawn), and Milton, following the example of the Greek poets, asserts the existence of a deity, Chaos, who holds sway over the place Chaos. This weltering mass of matter ultimately came under the influence of powers which developed within it, the lighter and finer parts rising into the upper regions and coming under the sway of a deity, Uranus, and the lower settling and gaining a firm con- sistency, under the influence of another deity, Gaia. These deities, together with Erebus and Night, who jointly domi- nated the regions below the earth, form the first dynasty of the gods. 28. They had offspring of three distinct types. First are the deities of distinct regions of the world or of gen- eral conditions. Such are y^ther (see 5) and Hemera (day), children of Erebus and Night, and Eos or Au- rora (dawn). The second type of offspring are the gigantic beings mentioned above as causing volcanoes and other convulsions of nature. They are the first-born children of Uranus and Gaia, and are represented as having a hundred hands and fifty heads. The third and greatest type are the Titans, also children of Heaven and Earth, but less repulsive in appearance and less brutal in nature than their brothers. They are characterized by great power, conjoined with intelligence to direct that power. Many of them are identified with the mightier, but orderly forces of nature. Such were Oceanus (the sea), Cronus or Saturn (time), Rhea (productiveness), Hyperion (the sun). 29. The myth arose that Uranus, displeased with his 42 INTRODUCTION. eldest offspring, cast them into his dungeon in Tartarus. Gaia thereupon stirred up the Titans to rebelhon under the leadership of Saturn. Armed with a sickle provided by his mother, Saturn wounded his father, and from the drops of blood that fell upon the earth sprang up a hideous race of gigantic monsters with legs formed of serpents, to whom Milton gives the distinctive name " Earth-born," to distin- guish them from those giants born of both Heaven and Earth. Although it would normally have been the '' birth- right " of the eldest Titan, Oceanus, to succeed his father, Saturn, as the chief agent in the downfall of Uranus, seized the throne of the universe, taking as his consort his sister Rhea. With them begins the second dynasty of the gods. 30. They had many children, among them Neptune (Poseidon), Pluto (Hades), Jove (Zeus), Vesta, Ceres, Juno. In order to avoid a fate like his father's, Cronus attempted to devour each of his children at his birth. Jove was saved by a device of his mother, and by a me- dicinal potion compelled his father to disgorge those chil- dren already swallowed. 31. The children thus rescued made war upon their father to dethrone him. The scene of the war was in Thessaly, Jove, with his brothers Neptune and Pluto and their forces, taking his stand on Mount Olympus, and Saturn on the opposite height of Mount Othrys. Power- ful alhes of Jove were the hundred-handed giants, who under the leadership of Briareos, one of their num- ber, hurled destructive thunderbolts at Saturn's crew. With their aid victory fell to the rebellious sons, who pro- ceeded to apportion the universe among themselves by SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 43 lot. The primacy in rank and the immediate care of the earth and of the upper region fell to Jove, the sway of the watery kingdom was assigned to Neptune, and Pkito was obh'ged to be content with playing the part of a " Nether Jove " in the under world. Saturn, driven into exile, fled with his friends across the Adriatic Sea to Italy. His divane presence there wrought such beneficent effects upon civihzation that the period of his reign is called the Golden Age. In // Penseroso INIilton declares that from the union of Saturn with Vesta in that early age sprang the child "Melancholy," thus symboHzing the nature of that emo- tion, as fostered by culture and retirement. Afterward Vesta assumed her well-known character of goddess of the domestic hearth in Rome, and pledged herself by an oath to Jove to live thenceforth the Hfe of a celibate. 32. With the accession of Jove and his brothers to power began the third dynasty of the gods. Soon they were compelled to defend themselves against a rebellion on the part of the Earth-born giants (see 29). The most formidable ally of the latter was the fire-breath- ing, hundred-headed monster Typhon, who came to their aid from his den near the city of Tarsus in x\sia Minor. His stature reached the sky, his eyes flashed fire, his voices struck terror to the heart. He so terrified the lesser gods that they fled from Olympus to Egypt and disguised themselves in the forms of animals (see 55). But Jove made good his claims to sovereignty by de- feating even this enemy, and thereafter reigned in peace. The volcanic plain of Phlegra is the fabled scene of this decisive contest, and its masses of lava and its barren 44 INTRODUCTION. and jagged surface still give evidence of the scathing effect of Jove's thunderbolts. 33. The race of man appeared on the earth in due time, either by spontaneous generation or by direct creation, and the gods withdrew to regions inaccessible to man, such as the tops of lofty mountains, or the re- cesses of the earth or the sea. Jove, with his sister Juno as queen, formed a permanent court on Mount. Olympus. There the gods sat in council, or feasted on ambrosia and drank nectar, served by Jove's cup- bearer, the beautiful Hebe, whose name is the poet's synonym for fresh and youthful beauty. 34. Although Jove dwelt in this palace on Mount Olympus, yet he frequented certain other localities, where he communicated his will to man through oracles. Mount Ida, in Crete, where he had been hidden from his bloodthirsty parent in infancy (see 30), remained ever sacred to him ; and at Dodona, in Epirus, his oracles could be heard voiced in the rustling leaves of his sacred oak. Olympia, in Elis, was the centre of his worship, where from all Greece men gathered to pray in his temple, and where at intervals of four years contests of skill were celebrated in his honor. 35. By union with many immortal and mortal wives, he begat numerous offspring, who inherited each a por- tion of his father's divinity, and became subordinate deities, exercising a limited authority over some portion of the world or some element of human character. Succeeding generations inherited less of divine nature, and by degrees the '' Seed of Jove " became undistin- guishable in character from human beings, except by the SEVExMTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 45 possession of an unusual degree of power of some par- ticular kind. Lesser Deities. 36. Among the children of Jove, none are more im- portant in poetry than the Muses, born of his wife Mnemosyne (Memory). The Muses are deities that inspire in man artistic powers. They are nine in number, each imparting some special art impulse to her devotees. They are represented as living in the neighborhood of mountains, such as Parnassus, in Phocis ; Olympia, in Elis ; Helicon, in the district of Boeotia called Aonia (see map, p. 86). The Pierian springs beneath Olympus, the Castalian spring beneath Parnassus, and the springs of Hippocrene and Aganippe beneath HeHcon were the haunts of the Muses, their gentle, spontaneous, musical currents sym- bolizing the flow of poetic and artistic inspiration into the human soul. 37. Of the children of Jove, perhaps the next in importance are Phoebus-Apollo and Diana, born at Delos, whither their mother Latona had been driven because of the jealousy of Juno. Because born at the foot of Mount Cynthus, they are known as Cynthius and Cynthia, respectively. 38. Phoebus- Apollo is god of light, prophecy, music, poetry, and archery, and of the arts and sciences. In appearance, he is the type of manly beauty. His musi- cal and poetic gifts are symbolized by the lyre, which he usually carries in his hand. As god of light, he is repre- sented as the deity that drives in the flaming chariot of 46 INTRODUCTION. the sun through the heavens, usurping the place of the earHer deity Helios. Preceded by the Dawn (see 28) he issues from his "chamber in the east," and guides his coursers along their sloping path until at night they plunge beyond the ocean's marge, where he cools the burning axle of his wain and rests his weary steeds. In his circuit his vision penetrates the most secret recesses of the world, and nothing escapes his all- seeing eyes ; hence his gift of prophecy. 39. In order to exercise this precious power for man's benefit, he early sought a fitting spot on the earth for an oracle, and found it in a cave beneath a cliff of Mount Parnassus. He appeared to some mariners in the ^goean Sea in the form of a dolphin (Gr. = Delphin) and, with the aid of winds divinely controlled, drove their vessel to a har- bor near the chosen spot. He then revealed himself to them as a god, and appointed them his priests. From this miracle the place was named Delphi and he was called the Delphian Apollo. The dolphin was thereafter associated in legends with musicians and poets, as in the myth of Arion, which Milton imitates in Lycidas. Mil- ton prays that, as Arion, when thrown into the Mediter- ranean Sea by pirates, was received and borne ashore by a dolphin which had been charmed by his beautiful music, so may dolphins convey to him the corse of his poet-friend. The region about Delphi had formerly been infested by a monster named Python. Apollo, through his power as god of archery, slew the monster, whence he received the title of Pythian Apollo. Every four years Pythian games similar to the Olympian contests (see 34) were held at Delphi in his honor. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 47 40. Apollo fell ardently in love with a nymph named Daphne, but she, being vowed to celibacy, rejected his suit and fled from his amorous wooing. The god pur- suing, she prayed to be rescued, and in answer to her prayer Jove transformed her into a laurel bush. Apollo, in remorse, decreed that the laurel should remain ever green, and be held sacred to himself. The laurel is therefore of great importance in literature. Supremacy in matters of skill, or preeminence in any art such as Apollo alone could convey, was recognized by the award of a wreath of laurel to the person thus endowed. In modern English, the title laureate implies supremacy in poetic creation. As a technical term in Great Britain, it means a poet appointed by the state to commemorate events of importance to the nation. 41. Apollo was not more fortunate in his friendship than in his love. While playing at quoits one day, he accidentally struck his friend Hyacinthus with his quoit and killed him. Apollo caused a flower to spring up from his blood, and on the leaves of this " sanguine flower " inscribed a memorial of his grief in the Greek word ai'at (= alas !). 42. Orpheus, son of Apollo and Calliope (Muse of epic poetry), was endowed with powers hardly less than those of his father. He wedded a nymph named Eurydice, and at her early death he was inconsolable. He finally took a lyre given him by Apollo and made his way to Hades to seek her. His song '' suspended Hell and took with ravishment the thronging audience." Even the inexorable deities wept with pity, and Pluto granted his request that Eurydice might accompany him back to the 48 INTRODUCTION. upper world, but only on condition that Orpheus should precede her out of Hades, and should not look behind him until he had emerged into the light of day. As he reached the limits of Hades, Orpheus was unable to refrain from casting a look backward to ascertain whether his wife was really following. His lack of faith was pun- ished, for Eurydice immediately vanished forever from his sight. Realizing that he had lost his wife through his own fault, he wandered unconsolable in the forests of Thrace until he met a rout of Thracian women celebrat- ing with wild, drunken orgies the rites of Bacchus. They demanded that he should join the revel, and in drunken frenzy at his sad refusal they tore him to pieces. His head was thrown into the river Hebrus and floated to Lesbos in the y^gsean Sea, where it was enshrined with due ceremony by the pious islanders. 43. Diana, twin sister of Apollo, has many of his characteristics. As he is god of the blazing sunlight, she is goddess of the colder and paler moonlight. She is therefore a patron goddess of chastity. As he is god of archery, so she is depicted as a huntress, always bear- ing about with her her bow and quiver, with which she pursues the wild animals through the forest. Milton interprets the myth beautifully in Comus, 438 -|-. 44. Minerva is goddess of wisdom and of armed resistance. She sprang from the head of Jove, full-grown and clad in armor. She chose to remain a virgin and thus became the patron goddess of chaste maidens. Her purity, not her warlike character, is typified in the helmet, spear, and shield with which she is equipped. Her shield or aegis is covered with dragons' scales, SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 49 bordered with serpents, and armed with the head of Medusa (see 52). Sacred to her was the owl, the cahii steady gaze of whose wide-open eyes has ahvays suggested to man the absorption of mind characteristic of the sage. 45. Vulcan, called by Milton Mulciber, son of Jupiter and Juno, was the god of mechanical arts, and especially of the use of fire in working metals. Unhke the other gods, he was misshapen and lame. This was caused, as the Greeks said, in the following manner : Jupiter having quarrelled with Juno, Vulcan interposed and took his mother's part. Jove in anger hurled him out of Olympus with such violence that when he fell it was upon the island of Lemnos in the JEgddSin. His leg was broken by the fall, but in spite of his disobedience and of his uncouth appearance, he later won from Jove the beautiful Aphrodite for his wife. 46. Of all the powers of nature personified in my- thology, none exerts a more universal sway, none appears more prominently in literature, than does Venus, goddess of love and of feminine beauty. Astarte or Astoreth (plural = Ashtaroth) is the corresponding Phoenician deity, although, unlike the Roman Venus, she is intimately associated with the moon. In Greece, the name of the goddess is Aphrodite, and the Greek myth varies from the Homan in explaining her origin in a different manner. The Romans made Venus the child of Jupiter and Dione, while the Greek Aphrodite was said to have sprung from the foam of the sea where the blood of the wounded Uranus dropped into it (see 29). In Rome her hus- band was Mars, in Greece Hephaistos, the counterpart 50 INTRODUCTION. of the Roman Vulcan (45). She was the mother of Cupid or Eros, god of the passion of love, and of Hymen, god of marriage (whose mantle of golden color and torch symbolize the wedding processions that he sanctions) ; and by her union with the Trojan Anchises she became the parent of ^neas, the founder of the Roman nation (see 67). 47. Venus experienced all the keenness of the pangs which she caused in others ; for she ardently loved a beautiful youth named Adonis, and he was killed while hunting the wild boar. So intense was her grief that Hades could not resist her appeals for the restoration of her lover, and he permitted Adonis to spend six months of every year with Venus in Olympus. In Syria, where Adonis was worshipped under the name of Thammuz, it was believed that he was wounded anew every year, as was shown by the fact that in the rainy season the river Adonis became tinged with red. This river flows from the Lebanon Mountains, where he yearly himted the boar, to the Mediterranean Sea. In these moun- tains the Syrian women annually congregated to lament his death, and their example was followed by the Jewish women in Jerusalem. 48. A myth exerting almost as great an influence upon art and literature is that of Cupid and Psyche, symboliz- ing as it does the human soul dominated by its most powerful emotion. Psyche, a king's daughter, became the wife of Cupid, but her beauty inflamed the jealousy of his mother, Venus, who by a stratagem caused Psyche to disobey an injunction laid upon her by her husband and thus brought about a separation between the pair. SEVENTEENTH-CEiNTURY IDEAS. 51 Psyche wandered through the earth, undergoing various troubles and pains, but not until after she had traversed the under world also did she find her missing husband. Then Jove in pity made her immortal and she was reconciled to Venus and took her place among the gods on Olympus. 49. The deities thus far mentioned shared with Jove his life in the upper regions. We now turn to Nep- tune and the deities of his watery domain. Neptune took as a consort Amphitrite, and by her he had a son, Triton, who acted as his father's trumpeter and attendant. Like Jove, Neptune exerted only a general control, distribut- ing his realm among many "blue-haired deities" and giving them leave " to wield their little tridents." 50. Oceanus, having refused to join in the war against Jove (see 32), was left in control of the ocean stream. Nereus, a calm, placid deity, ruled the seas from his palace beneath the y4^g^an, where he dwelt with his fifty beautiful daughters, the Nereids. Proteus, son of Nep- tune and shepherd of his flocks, dwelt on the island of Carpathus. He was a deity much sought for on account of his power of prophecy. He dishked to exercise this power and would slip away into the sea unless firmly held by his questioner. If so held, he would transform him- self rapidly into a variety of repulsive shapes in order to terrify the inquirer. But if the latter were persistent enough, he would resume his original shape, and yield the desired information. Milton uses this legend to illustrate the subtle transformations of matter, by which its secrets escape the investigations of the alchemist {R L. III. 600). 52 INTRODUCTION. Another sea-god of prophetic powers is Glaiicus. He had been mortal, but, having eaten of an herb of magic powers, felt irresistibly impelled to spring into the sea, and there "underwent a quick immortal change." His immortality was unwelcome, however, and successive years brought only increased longing for death. Myths regarding the. deification of mortals are very common among the poets. Another example is that of Leucothea, a Theban princess, who, when pursued by her husband to the seashore, sprang with her infant son into the deep. There they both became deities. As the river goddess Sabrina was deified under much the same conditions, Milton's appeal to these and kindred deities in Comiis, 86 7+ is peculiarly appropriate. Thetis, there mentioned, was a Nereid (see above) ; Parthenope was a Siren whose tomb was fabled to be at Naples ; and Ligeia was a sister Siren (see 59). 51. Like the gods of water and sky, the lesser gods of earth appear in groups. If there be one of more promi- nence than another, it would seem to be Pan, or Sylvanus, god of rural life and of animate nature in general. With him are associated groups of Satyrs (beings combining the physical characteristics of goats and of men), and of Faims (a slightly higher type than satyrs, betraying their animal nature only by their pointed furry ears, but lack- ing all moral sense). Their lives were given up to care- less sport in forests and on lawns, in the company of the tree nymphs (yDryades) or fresh- water nymphs (Naiades). Then, too, every object and place had its Genius or special attendant spirit, who guarded it and shaped its fortunes. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 53 Besides the nymphs mentioned above, there were nymphs of the meadows, of the vales, of the mountains, of marshes, of rivers, etc. One of the most celebrated is Echo, a mountain nymph who fell in love with a beau- tiful youth named Narcissus, son of a river god. Her love being unrequited, she pined away until nothing was left of her save her voice. Narcissus, whose admiration for his own beautiful face had rendered him insensible to her charms, was punished by the gods with a fate like hers ; for he gazed at his own reflection in brooks and fountains until he also pined away and was transformed into the flower that bears his name. 52. The deities thus far mentioned " were the prime in order and in might. The rest were long to tell." But we should be familiar with certain groups of beings, such as the Winds (Zephyrus, Boreas, etc.), with their ruler ^olus, called by Milton " Hippotades ; " the Harpies, foul beings with women's heads and bird-hke bodies and legs, who punished crime ; and the Fuiies, creatures possess- ing terrible features and carrying scourges of snakes in their hands, who tormented guilty souls. Of especial importance are the Gorgons, women with snaky locks, whose look had power to turn the terror-stricken gazer into stone. The chief Gorgon, Medusa, is especially well known to literature, since her head, severed from her body by Perseus (see 12), was fastened in the centre of Minerva's shield, and the blood which dropped from the severed head as Perseus bore it over land and sea bred the snakes that infest Sahara and other desert regions.^ 1 See the list of snakes, etc., in P. L. X. 524. 54 INTRODUCTION. Far different from the Gorgons were the three Graces, whose names (Aglaia = splendor, Eiiphrosyne = joy, and Thalia = pleasure) suggest their nature and their mission to mortals ; and the Hours, beautiful maidens who repre- sent the seasons of the year. 53. Other Olympian deities well known to literature are the three following : — Iris, goddess of the rainbow and therefore of color. From the position of the rainbow and its swift appear- ance after a storm in which Jove's thunderbolts have cleft the clouds. Iris has been termed the Messenger of Jove. Hermes or Mercury, the general messenger of the gods. As speed is essential in such an officer, we find asso- ciated with him the kindred idea of light and graceful motion, such as is employed in the dance. The most swiftly moving of the planets bears his name, as does the (supposed) active chemical principle of all things, quick- silver or "Volatile Hermes." (See 6 and 9.) Bacchus, god of wine. Milton refers to the legend of his seizure by Tyrrhenian pirates, who supposed him a beautiful youth and designed to sell him as a slave. He rescued himself by exerting his divine power and trans- forming his captors into dolphins. 54. Supreme above all the classic gods and goddesses we find the Fates, called by Milton *' Daughters of Neces- sity." These sisters share in the determination of all human events by allotting to each man his portion of life, and no god, not even Jove himself, can set aside their decrees. One, Clotho, is represented as holding a spindle or distaff, while a second, Lachesis, draws from SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 55 it the thread (s5nnljoHc of human life), and the third, Atropos, cuts the latter at the moment decreed. Back of this triple conception lies the older thought of Fate as a single impersonal, all-controlling power, binding gods and men equally, and Milton more than once by implication gives expression to this idea. 55. Milton's works contain many references to the mythology of Egypt, but as that mythology has not won a place in literature at all comparable with that of the Greek myths, his references are confined to general feat- ures, such as the titles of the better known Egyptian gods, and a few descriptive epithets, such as " bleatiiig gods." The Egyptians represented the forces of nature under the forms of animals, instead of under those of human beings (see 32). Osiris, the sun-god, was the chief deity, worshipped also under the name of Serapis. A sacred bull, called Apis, was worshipped as his visible incarnation upon earth. Like other great deities, he was doomed to be vanquished by an enemy, his brother Typhon (represented as a crocodile), who severed his body into many parts and threw them into the Nile. His wife Isis gathered the different portions and placed them in a sacred chest or shrine. She is represented as a woman having the horns of a cow. Of their sons, Anubis was represented with the head of a jackal, Orus (or Horns) with that of a hawk. Ammon (or Hammon) was the chief god of Upper Egypt, although his worship was also carried on in an oasis of the Libyan Desert. He was represented with horns like those of a ram. 56. In the quick comprehension of allusions to these imaginative creations of the ancient world lies one of the 56 INTRODUCTION. pleasures which Hterature offers to the reader. A like pleasure springs from the perception of the charm, the glamour, that pervades the thought of remote lands and bygone civilizations, known to us only through romance or through the description of the curious traveller, whose experiences lose nothing of the picturesque in the re- counting. From the twelfth to the seventeenth century adventurous explorers in Asia and Africa blazed out a route for commerce to follow, returning to England with stories that stimulated the imagination to unbounded cred- ulousness, confirming as they often did statements found in the works of the oldest writers. For example, so many writers in various periods had asserted the existence of races of pygmies, or little people a cubit high (some in India, others in Africa), that Homer's story of their an- nual battle with the migrating cranes seemed to Milton's readers easily credible ; and Herodotus' story of the winged lions called griffins who guard the gold mines of Scythia from the depredations of the Arimaspians was, in the judgment of the mediaeval world, removed from the realm of pure fiction from the day when the great explorer, Mandeville, returning from his travels in Asia, declared that he knew a country where the " gryphon " was very common. Imagination ran riot in regard to these " uncouth " regions — Asian plateaus, where men sailed upon the ground in wagons ; Saharan deserts, where the sands "poized" the lighter wings of the winds in their fierce combats ; the Caspian Sea, where clouds " with heaven's artillery fraught " continually rent the air with thunder- bolts. The inhabitants of English dales loved to hear SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 57 how the lofty Himalayas frowned steep over the rich plains of India, and how the snow- clad range of Imaus swept from the sources of the Ganges northward past Sericana ^ and Tartary — names in themselves fraught with suggestions of strange peoples and customs — to lands still unpenetrated by civihzed man. Of India they knew more, but that country was still half fairyland. Here the subjects of the barbarous kings celebrated their coronals (such were the riches of this favored land) with showers of gold-dust and pearls. From the neighboring islands of Ternate and Tidore came fleets laden with spices, perhaps delaying in the Persian Gulf to bring from Ormuz some of those jewels that made it the dia- mond mart of the world. Ruins of ancient cities in Asia and in Africa served to corroborate the testimony of early writers in regard to the ancient glories of Egypt and Assyria. At Babylon might still be traced the site of the great temple of Belus, a single tower of which was said to have been four hundred feet high and four hundred feet square. The pyramids on the heights above Cairo still looked down upon the site of Memphis, whose splendid temple of Serapis rivalled that of Belus at Babylon. And if these dumb witnesses of the past compelled belief in the legends that cluster about their names, how much more credible must have seemed the written records of the epic poem, the historical narrative, the cycles of romance ! The very names of the places to which cling dim mem- ories of Charlemagne, of Arthur, of Saladin (Fontarabbia, ^ Sericana was a district in the northwestern part of China. 58 INTRODUCTION. Armorica, Damasco) appeal to the imagination with power to transport the mind out of the present into the stimulating atmosphere of chivalry. If the student have not the time for a too curious study of these historical references, let him try to lend himself to the magic of the names, with their suggestions of bravery and loyalty ; and even if, like Milton, he sees Charlemagne instead of Roland die " by Fontarabbia," or if he cannot find the exact latitude and longitude of Aspramont, his thought will have in it no more of vagueness than did the reader's of Milton's day. Classic Legends. A few legends inherited from ancient Greece have for centuries furnished the writers of Western Europe with heroic figures, romantic episodes, and picturesque details, which serve as illustrative matter wherewith to enrich their productions, until the legends have become inter- woven into the very tissue of literature, and no scholar is equipped for general reading until he has come to know their principal incidents. We shall complete our treatment of classical references with such details from the story of the Argonautic Expedition, the Adventures of Hercules, and the Siege of Troy as may be of assistance in reading Milton's works. The Argonautic Expedition. 57. This legend relates how thousands of years ago the king of the country of Colchis, on the Black Sea, pos- sessed a wonderful treasure in the shape of a ram's fleece of pure gold, which he guarded with the utmost SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 59 care, because it was eagerly desired by the people who dwelt on the shores of the ^gaean. A band of heroes from Greece determined to secure the fleece, at what- ever risk to themselves, and to that end built a splendid fifty-oared galley, which they named the Argo, and set out for Colchis. Notable among the heroes were Jason (their leader), the poet Orpheus, the demi-god Hercules, and the fathers of many of the heroes of the famous Trojan War. 58. They went through many adventures before reach- ing Colchis, in one of which Hercules became separated from the expedition. The sole one of these to which Milton refers in the course of these selections is that of the Symplegades, or ''justling rocks" {P. L. II. 1018), The route of the Argo lay, of course, through the Straits of Bosphorus, and soon after passing these the x^rgonauts found their way barred by two huge island-masses of rock, floating upon the sea and at short intervals of time crash- ing their cliff-like faces together with tremendous force and noise, under the influence of the waves. The heroes, con- fiding in the bird-like speed of the Argo, determined to rest their fate on that of a dove, which was accordingly sent between the rocks as they swung apart. The fright- ened bird sped through the passage in safety, but the return of the rocks was so prompt that some of her tail- feathers were caught and torn out just as she reached the open space beyond. Nor was the confidence of the heroes in their ship unfounded ; for on the next relapse of the rocks they bent to their oars and passed safely on their way, the stern of the boat being merely grazed by the returning rocks. 6o INTRODUCTION. 59. Arrived at Colchis, they secured the fleece with the assistance of Medea, the king's daughter (who be- came ardently enamoured of Jason and abandoned her home to join her fortunes with his), and departed home- ward. But more than one crime had marked their course, and the gods condemned them to wander through many strange regions ere they saw their native land. They visited the island of the goddess and enchantress Circe (see 68) to implore the aid of her mystic powers. They passed islands where resided the Sirens, nymphs the upper portion of whose bodies were those of beauti- ful maidens, while the lower portion resembled those of a bird. These dwelt on a rocky shore, where they sang so sweetly of the pleasures that awaited the sailor who should venture to land that no mariner who heard them could resist his longing to reach the shore. But the smiling waters concealed hidden reefs which wrecked the vessel venturing too near, and thus the sailor who listened to their song paid the penalty of his rashness with his life. Orpheus, however, sang to the accompani- ment of his lyre so sweetly that the Argonauts failed to hear the Sirens, and passed in safety. The passing be- tween Scylla and Charybdis (see 69) was the most notable of their many succeeding adventures, but they finally reached Greece with their treasure. The Labors of Hercules. 60. Hercules (properly called Heracles), who had accidentally been deprived of his share in the Argonautic Expedition, was the son of Jove and a mortal named Alcmene. His enormous strength, exhibited in many SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 6i exploits, has made him a leading figure in legendary history. The twelve great "labors" which he performed for the king of Mycenae are world-renowned. One of these is of especial importance to the student of Milton, be- cause it pertains to the myth of the " Hesperides," a myth to which he frequently refers. 6i. It is said that among the gifts received by Juno on the occasion of her marriage with Jove was a tree bearing apples of the purest gold. Juno caused the tree to be set in a garden in the extreme west, where dwelt the mighty monarch Atlas, supporting upon his shoulders the weight of the dome of the sky. The precious apples were entrusted to the care of his daughters, who, from the name of their mother Hesperia, or of their grandfather Hesperus, were called the Hespe7-ides. They proved not entirely faithful to their trust, and Juno attempted to ensure the safety of the apples by placing in the garden, as a guardian, a dragon with a hundred heads, not all of which were ever asleep at the same time. 62. One of the tasks of Hercules was to secure these golden apples. He roamed over almost the entire world, but for a long time was unable even to find the garden. Finally he learned that Atlas could aid him to secure the fruit, and he undertook to support the sky upon his own shoulders while Atlas went on his quest. The latter was able to outwit his daughters, the Hesperides, to put all the dragon's heads to sleep by enchantments, and to secure three of the apples for Hercules. The last of these tasks was to descend into the lower world and bring to the light of day the dog Cerberus (23), an 62 INTRODUCTION. exploit possible only to a being of supernatural strength. 63. Hercules afterwards won renown in a series of heroic adventures, but finally fell a victim to the revengeful craft of an enemy. He had attacked the king of CEchalia in revenge for a gross breach of faith, had stormed the citadel, slain the monarch, and borne away his beautiful daughter as a captive. On his return he halted near Mount CEta, in Thessaly, to render to Jove a sacrifice of gratitude for his success. His wife, dreading the charms of the captured maiden, sent him a sacrificial robe which she had drenched with a certain liquid, potent (as she supposed) to keep him faithful to herself. But the liquid had been given her by a treacherous enemy of the hero, and its actual effect was to make the garment cling closely to the skin of the wearer, poisoning his blood and causing intolerable torment. Crazed with pain, Hercules tore up trees by the roots, and seizing the bearer of the robe (Lichas) by one leg, in his blind wrath he hurled him far from the mountain top into the distant Euboic sea.^ Finally, in despair at his unconquerable agony, he destroyed himself. The Trojan War. 64. In the era succeeding the Argonautic Expedition and the Adventures of Hercules, occurred the Siege of Troy. This city was the capital of a kingdom in Asia Minor, 1 The original story makes him halt for sacrifice at the northern end of the island of Euboea, thence hurl Lichas into the sea, and afterwards proceed to Mount Oita to erect his own funeral pyre. SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 63 near the Hellespont, under the rule of a kmg named Priam. One of his sons, named Paris, with the aid of the goddess Venus had carried off to Troy the wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta. This wife was Helen, daughter of Jupiter and Leda, and accounted the most beautiful woman in the world, so that her name has become a synonym for the perfection of female beauty. An expedition of a hundred and fifty thousand men and over a thousand ships was organized to restore the fugitive to Greece, and to wreak vengeance upon the Trojans. Menelaus' brother, the stalwart warrior Agamemnon, took command and all the heroes of Greece joined in the undertaking. Their names, too many to be recounted here, were familiar to Milton's readers, owing to the numerous translations from the classics with which the Renaissance had enriched Enghsh literature. As Venus had aided Paris in securing Helen, she aided the Trojans throughout the war. Juno and Minerva, on the other hand, threw the weight of their influence in favor of the Greeks, and most of the gods ranged themselves on the one side or the other as auxilia- ries in the conflict. 65. Among the mortals the principal figure in the war was the mighty Achilles, who slew vast numbers of the Trojan forces, among them the Ethiopian prince, Mem- non.^ But the capture of Troy itself was due, not to the prowess of Achilles, but to the craft of Ulysses, who ^ This prince, though dark-skinned, was famed for his beauty, being a son of the beautiful prince Tithonus and Eos, goddess of the rosy dawn. It is not without reason that ^Milton assigns to his sister Hemera the same dusky charms of person. 64 INTRODUCTION. becomes thenceforth the principal figure in the legend (see 68). On the fall of Troy, Menelaus became reconciled to his wife Helen, and by a somewhat round-about route bore her back to Sparta. On the way they visited Thone, the king of Egypt, whose wife, Polydamna, pre- sented Helen with a magic draught called nepenthes. This drink had the power to invigorate the body, to dis- pel care from the mind, and to cause the happy partaker to forget all past causes of sorrow. With its aid the memory of Helen's infidehty was obliterated from the mind of Menelaus, and complete wedded happiness was again made possible to him. 66. Not so fortunate was his brother Agamemnon (called by Homer Pelides, i.e. descendant of Pelops) ; for his wife had become unfaithful to him during his long absence at Troy, and on his return he was treacherously murdered by her paramour. This crime and its conse- quences form the subject of several tragedies by ^schylus, the greatest Greek dramatist, and subjects related to this are treated by both Sophocles and Euripides. The same authors also employ portions of the legend- ary history of Thebes as subject material for dramatic treatment. But as the incidents have not won a place in general literature like those of the "Tale of Troy," they will not be rehearsed here. Anchises' Line. 67. Of the Trojan leaders the only one to escape from the vengeance of the Greeks was vEneas, son of Anchises and the Goddess Venus. He took refuge in a mountain SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 65 near the city, and some time afterward managed to depart with a band of followers in a fleet hastily constructed. The Romans, seeking to trace an exalted ancestry for their rulers, declared that fate had decreed that ^^neas should found the Roman nation ; and Virgil in a mag- nificent epic, the JSneid, recounts the adventures of ^neas before and after reaching Italy, tracing the line of his descendants down to Augustus Csesar, in whose reign the poem was composed. In like manner the earliest English writers attempted to connect this line with their own early kings ; and we accordingly read in early English literature how a great- grandson of ^-Eneas named Brut migrated from Italy to the island of Britain and became monarch of the nation that bears his name, the Britons. According to the legend, Brut had a son and successor named Locrine. The latter had a daughter named Sabrina, by a mistress, but later wedded a woman named Gwendolen, and still later divorced her and returned to his former love. The enraged Gwendolen raised an army, attacked and de- feated Locrine, and procured the death of Sabrina by drowning, but not in the exact manner described by Milton {Comus, 829 -h). The Wa7iderings of Ulysses. 68. The adventures of Ulysses on his departure from Troy form the subject of Homer's second great epic poem, the Odyssey. Ten years the hero had been absent from his home, but the Fates decreed that ten more should be spent in traversing the unknown regions of the world before he should see Ithaca again. The first of 66 INTRODUCTION. his adventures that concerns us is that with the goddess Circe. She dwelt in a beautiful palace on an island located by Milton not far from the southern extremity of Italy ( Comiis, 49), and seduced visitors by her charms to drink of an enchanted liquor which she offered them in a golden cup. When the guest had drank, the god- dess touched him with her magic wand, and he fell to the ground transformed into some beast in appearance, but retaining the consciousness of a human being. Ulysses would surely have met this fate had not Hermes (see 53) hastened to warn him, and present him with an herb called moly, possessed of such wondrous powers that it would entirely neutralize the enchantments of Circe. Protected by this, he first terrified and then appeased Circe. After remaining with her some months, by her advice he descended to Hades and consulted the shade of the prophet Tiresias in regard to his future career. On his way thither he visited the lands of the Cimmerians, a country beyond the ocean stream (see 22), where reigned perpetual darkness. 69. After his return he passed the island of the Sirens, and, wishing to hear their entrancing song, assured the safety of his crew by stopping their ears with wax, and his own safety by having himself bound to the mast. He then sailed between Scylla and Charybdis, incurring that double danger which has become so famous a sym- bol of all difficulties requiring a choice between two evils. The story of Scylla varies in different writers, but in Milton she is represented as a maiden who has incurred the jealousy of Amphitrite (see 49). SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 67 The latter had therefore cast herbs of magic power into the water in which Scylla bathed, and by their effect she was transformed from the waist downward into a hideous monster. She had six long necks, with terrific heads bearing three rows of teeth each, and her voice sounded like the barking of a dog. Her position was on the Itahan side of the Straits of Messina, while in a cave opposite dwelt an immense dragon, Charybdis, which alternately swallowed and belched forth the waters of the straits. If the venturous ship that attempted the passage sheered to the one hand, it would sacrifice its crew to Scylla ; if to the other, it would be sucked down into the jaws of Charybdis and be spewed forth again a shattered wreck. Ulysses preferred to sacrifice six men to Scylla rather than to risk his entire vessel and crew, and there- fore steered nearer to Scylla and passed by Charybdis in safety. It is evident from his having escaped so great danger that he was under the care of the Fates, and we shall not be surprised to learn that he eventually reached Ithaca, where his faithful wife received him with rejoicing. Religious Conceptions. 70. The account of the creation and the ancient history of the World given in the earKer books of the Bible was universally accepted as historically accurate by the rehgious world of the seventeenth century, and the origin of the first five books was attributed to Moses. (See 8^, 84, and F. L. I. 8.) As this account is meagre, the theologians of the Middle Ages had supplemented it 68 INTRODUCTION. by such additions as imagination, aided by' suggestions scattered through the rest of the Bible, could supply, using the utmost ingenuity in order to harmonize the whole into a consistent narrative. This account Milton still further amplified by adding details which (without being inconsistent with the Bible story) might furnish opportunities for the exercise of his poetic art. The narrative as it appears woven into the texture of his poem is as follows : — Heave 71. 71. God, the eternal and all-powerful Being from whom and in whom all things exist, has resided throughout all past time in an upper region of space, called Heaven, surrounded by angelic attendants whom he has created, and who serve him through love, finding their highest happiness in that service. 72. Of these angels there are three hierarchies, each of which comprises three orders, and the angels of each order are distinguished from the others by the possession of some attribute in a surpassing degree. Of the first hierarchy, the Seraphim are '' bright," '' fiery " ; the Cherubim (whose attribute is vision) are the guardians ; the Thrones are evidently subordinate rulers. The second hierarchy is composed of Dominations, Virtues, and Powers. The third comprises Principalities, Arch- angels, and Angels. Milton also uses the latter term generally of all the orders, and the term "Archangels" of all the higher groups, but he ap])lies it more accurately to the seven angels who act as God's ambassadors and nuncios, who SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 69 " at his bidding speed And post o'er land and ocean without rest." Such are Raphael, who comes to warn Adam of his danger {P. L. VI. 893 + ) ; Michael, who is despatched to sum- mon the armies to meet the rebellious host of Satan on the morning of the first day's fight in Heaven {P. L. VI. 44 -f-) ; and Uriel, who warns the cherub Gabriel that Satan has neared the Garden of Eden with mahcious intent {P. L. IV. 561 +). It is evident that Milton con- ceived Ufe in Heaven as organized under an idealized semi-military, semi-political government, in which the higher angels serve God in stations which shed honor upon them while they exhibit outwardly the kingliness of his state. In general the service of the angels con- sists in hymning God's praise, bringing flowers to adorn his altar, and performing such other solemn ceremonies of adoration as are due to so mighty a monarch. Their food is described by Milton in terms borrowed from Greek mythology : — " Tables are set and on a sudden piled With angels' food; and rubied nectar flows In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold. Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of Heaven. On flowers reposed and with fresh flowerets crowned, They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy — ." 73. Heaven, their dwelling-place, is a place of exceed- ing beauty. Following the imagery of the Book of Reve- lation, Milton depicts it as a vast city " undetermined square or round," with battlemented walls and towers of crystal. It has variety of hill and plain, and v^alleys ^o INTRODUCTION. threaded with streams of the purest water, on whose banks grow trees bearing fruits of wondrous powers. Although, hke man, the angels enjoy "grateful vicissi- tude of day and night," and even the Deity himself at times veils his glory and envelops his throne in the deep- est darkness, yet the characteristic of the region is its radiant light, which emanates from every person and object there. Milton accounts for this by borrowing from the Greek scientists their conception of the "ether" (see 5), and assumes that all heavenly beings are composed of this substance purer than fire and shed- ding light without heat. 74. Here dwelt the angels with God in a happy and sin- less state throughout unnumbered ages of the past. But on a certain day (supposed by Milton to be about six thou- sand years ago), God proclaimed to the assembled angels a new regime, in the following words : — " ' Hear ail ye Angels, Progeny of Light, Thrones, Dominations, Princedoms, Virtues, Powers, Hear my decree, which unrevok't shall stand. This day I have begot whom I declare ISIy only Son, and on this holy hill Him have anointed, whom ye now behold At my right hand; your Head I him appoint; And by myself have sworn to him shall bow All knees in Heav'n, and shall confess him Lord : Under his great vicegerent reign abide United as one individual soul For ever happy : him who disobeys, Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls Into utter darkness, deep ingulft, his place Ordain'd without redemption, without end.' " SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 71 75. This proclamation aroused the jealousy and wrath of one of the principal angels, whose heavenly name must forever remain unknown (see P. L. I. 361), but whom we shall call Satan, because by this title (meaning Enemy) he was afterwards known in Heaven. He in- duced all but one of the angels under his regency to revolt against the elevation above themselves of any created being, and after a three days' fight he was ex- pelled from Heaven with all his followers by the Son of God (called Messiah), and was cast into a dungeon especially created for him, deep in outer space. One-third of all the angels were thus " amerced of Heaven." To supply their vacant room and at the same time guard against the possibility of another revolt, God determined to create a World outside the bounds of Heaven, to place therein a new race of beings, and to train them in obedience before entrusting them with the powers and privileges of angels of Heaven. The Ct'eatiofi and the Fall of Man. 76. We have spoken of Heaven as situated in an upper region of space. All the space about and beneath it Milton conceived to be occupied by atoms such as, when properly combined, compose the four forms of matter known to man (see 4). But these atoms, existing from all eternity and waiting until it should be God's pleasure to make them useful, knew no law and had no fixed place or form, drifting aimlessly about in blackest darkness, the sport of chance. This is Milton's interpre- tation of the statement of the Hebrew writer in Gene- 72 INTRODUCTION. sis i. 1,2 : " In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form and void ; and darkness was upon the face of the deep." Ac- cording to this interpretation, the process of creating the World began, not when the atoms of matter were brought into existence, but when the " Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." In Milton's stor}^ this Spirit is identified with the Son of God, lately appointed Regent of Heaven under the title of Messiah, and now deputed to bring into existence the new World. *& " ' Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound On golden hinges moving, to let forth The King of Glory, in his powerful Word And Spirit coming to create new worlds. On Heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore They viewed the vast immeasurable Abyss, Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, Up from the bottom turned by furious winds And surging waves, as mountains to assault Heaven's highth, and with the centre mix the pole.' " With golden compasses He first ascribed to the World its bounds, expelHng all materials unsuited to his pur- pose, causing the atoms about the circumference to become compacted into the Primum Mobile (see lo), and the atoms within to cease their confused motion ; and then on successive days uttered the commands that wrought the -atoms into orbs, continents and oceans, plants and animals, as we know them to-day. 77, On the first day, SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 73 '' Light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, Sprung from the Deep, and from her native East To journey through the aery gloom began." On the second the firmament of heaven spanned the sky — . " Expanse of liquid, pure, Transparent, elemental air, diffused In circuit to the uttermost convex Of this great round." On the third the masses of land and water were differen- tiated, — " Immediately the mountains huge appear Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave Into the clouds," — and vegetation sprang up in abundance. On the fourth the luminous bodies (sun, moon, and stars) were set in the firmament of heaven ; on the fifth living creatures (fish and fowl) were created ; on the sixth the higher animals, including man, crowned the work. 78. One man (Adam) and one woman (Eve) were created as ancestors of the human race. They were placed in a garden called Paradise, situated in the dis- trict of Eden, near the source of the river Euphrates, and over this garden they were given charge. Adam gave names to the various animals, with all of which he lived on friendly terms, and the time of both Adam and Eve was pleasantly occupied in the care of the garden. They were forbidden to eat of the fruit of one tree in this garden, called the " tree of knowledge of good and of evil." In all other respects they were unhampered by 74 INTRODUCTION. commands, and until this one was disobeyed, no impulse to any other form of sin could enter their innocent minds. If, however, they should transgress this command, they were to suffer the penalty of death. Milton interprets this penalty as dual in nature, and as affecting all the de- scendants of the pair, through the law of heredity. In the first place, it means physical death, since man was by nature immortal ; secondly, it means moral death, or the death of all good in the soul, which thus becomes doomed to endless woe. 79. Meanwhile Satan, the leader of the rebels, had escaped from his prison (though not without the suffer- ance of the all-seeing Ruler of Heaven) and made his way to the newly created World. There, in the form of a serpent, he persuaded Eve to eat of the forbidden fruit, and she persuaded her husband to follow her example. Their minds were instantly endowed with the pov/er to recognize the nature of sin, and with that sense of shame which is sin's inevitable accompaniment. The Creator punished Adam with the necessity of unceasing and pain- ful labor to support life, Eve with painful maternity and subjection to her husband, and both with immediate ex- pulsion from the garden, and with ultimate death. But severity was tempered with mercy. It was promised that the ^'Seed'' or descendants of the pair should one day " bruise the serpent's head." 80. Their earlier descendants, however, proved in time so sinful that all except one family, that of Noah, were destroyed by a flood. From the sons of Noah, after the flood, were traced three lines of descent, giving rise to three races, — the Semitic, the Hamitic, and the SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 75 Japhetic peoples. Javan, the son of Japhet, was the reputed ancestor of the Ionian Greeks. ^ J The Hebrews. 81. About two thousand years before the time of Christ, a descendant of Shem named Abram (afterward known as Abraham) migrated from Chaldea to Canaan with all the family of which he was the patriarchal head, and became the ancestor of the Hebrew people. He was held to have migrated under divine inspiration, and to have entered into a covenant with God, that in return for single-hearted worship on the part of Abraham and his seed, God should make of the Hebrew race a "chosen people," and should give the land of Canaan to them as a permanent possession. 82, Abraham was succeeded by his son Isaac, and the headship of the tribe should have passed in the next generation to Isaac's eldest son, Esau. The younger son, Jacob, however, by craft induced his aged and blind father unwittingly to confer upon him the " blessing " by which the leader of the tribe was consecrated. Then, not daring to abide his elder brother's anger, he fled from home, seeking the protection of his Uncle Laban, who dwelt in the district of Padan Aram, in Chaldea, until Esau's anger should have time to cool. On his way he reposed for the night at a place called Luz (see map, p. 87), where he saw a wonderful vision.^ ^ " And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set upon the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven : and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood 76 INTRODUCTION. 83. Esau was afterwards appeased, and Jacob as- sumed the position of head of the tribe. While un- der the headship of Jacob (otherwise called Israel), the tribe, now much enlarged, was driven by a long famine in Canaan to migrate to Egypt and take up its residence in Goshen, a fertile district in the east- ern part of the delta of the Nile. (See map, p. 8S.) Its members prospered and grew so numerous that the Egyptians, fearing that they would usurp control of the country, enslaved them and crushed them under burden- some tasks. At length God, remembering his covenant with Abraham, raised up for them a leader of their own race, Moses, to free them from bondage and restore them to Canaan, which had been pledged to Abraham and his seed as a permanent possession, and had therefore received the name of the Promised Land. 84. Moses was the son of a Hebrew priest named Amram, but was educated at the court of Egypt as the adopted son of the king's daughter. Having become liable to punishment for a homicide committed in defence of one of his Hebrew brethren, he fled into the wilderness beyond the Red Sea, and took service with his uncle as a shepherd on the range of mountains called Horeb. Here he lived for forty years, and during this long period (as Milton supposes) he wrote by divine inspiration those books of the Old Testa- ment which describe the origin of the world. It was above it, and said : . . . I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest. . . . And Jacob awoke out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place ! This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 'j'j revealed to him that God was henceforth to be known to the Israehtes under the new name of Jehovah. 85. At length, under divine direction, he returned to Egypt and summoned its ruler, or Pharaoh, to release the Hebrews from slavery. On his refusal, God, through Moses, brought upon Egypt a series of dire plagues, which were intended to strike terror into the hearts of the monarch and people. Two of these more particu- larly interest us. In one of them, a swarm of locusts appeared from the east, summoned by the waving of Moses' rod, and devoured all the vegetation of the coun- try. In the other and final one, all the first-born in the land, of both men and beasts, were struck dead in the night. As this included the animals that were worshipped as gods in Egypt, the Pharaoh was convinced that the God of Israel was mightier than the gods of Egypt, and he therefore promptly set the Israelites free. 86. So terror-stricken were the Egyptians that they freely loaned the Israelites jewels of gold and silver to hasten their departure ; but as soon as they had gone the monarch's courage returned, and he pursued with a large army of six hundred chariots and numerous horsemen, to restore to slavery the Israelitish host. The Israelites were overtaken at the northern end of the Red Sea. Through the intervention of God, an east wind laid bare the bed of the sea, the host passed over, and the Egyptian army, pursuing, was overtaken by the re- turning water and wholly destroyed. Milton follows the traditional account of his day in giving the name Busiris to the Egyptian monarch. 87. After having escaped this great danger, the Israel- 7S INTRODUCTION. ites wandered for years in the wilderness of the peninsula of Sinai, during which time they developed the tribal organization for which their life of slavery had hitherto offered no opportunity. Early in their march they dis- played the weakness which a life of servitude had bred in them ; for they lost faith in the God who had overwhelmed their enemies but a few days before, and complained that they had been led into the wilderness only to starve. God mercifully overlooked their ingratitude, and sent them from Heaven a daily supply of manna, a small round white grain, which tasted like " wafers made with honey." A Httle later, having reached Mount Sinai, a peak of that Horeb range which had been the scene of Moses' life as a shepherd, they received from God the Ten Command- ments and a detailed code of laws, together with a com- plete ritual for the service of God. 88. The ordinances of the new religion were received from God by Moses, in secret, on the top of Mount Sinai. So long was he absent from the host, in communion with God, that the people (unfitted for self-control by their life of slavery) lost faith in him and his divine mis- sion, constructed from the gold borrowed from the Egyptians an image of a calf, such as they had seen wor- shipped in Egypt, and worshipped it with pagan rites in imitation of the Egyptians. Their lack of faith in the God who, through Moses, had brought them out of the house of bondage was bitterly repented, for Moses, re- turning, caused three thousand of the most abandoned revellers to be slain, in order to stamp out at once any tendency to idolatry ; and Jehovah, in anger at their ingratitude, condemned the tribe to wander in the wil- SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 79 derness until every man then living should perish and a new generation grow up to inherit the Holy Land.^ 89. With faith in Jehovah restored by the return of Moses, and sobered by their late experience, the people constructed a movable house of worship, called the "Tabernacle," and placed therein a holy chest, called the " Ark of the Covenant," containing their most sacred memorials of God's mercy to them during their wander- ings. Above this chest was placed a seat of pure gold, called the " mercy seat." Two angelic figures, called " cherubim," wrought out of pure gold, were placed at the ends of the seat, their outstretched wings overarch- ing so as to form a sort of canopy for the seat itself. The seat was reverenced as the very throne of Jehovah, — as his abiding-place when he was present to hear and answer the prayers of his chosen people. A special priesthood was consecrated, with Aaron, the brother of Moses, as High Priest. The vestments pertaining to this office were prescribed with great minuteness, as each part was intended to have a symbolic significance. Especially notable are the mitre ^ for the head, and the 1 Even so severe a lesson as this did not have a permanent effect upon the Israelites; for in after years, when the tribal form of gov- ernment had been exchanged for the monarchical form, King Jero- boam, who had usurped authority rightfully belonging to the son of Solomon (see 93), set up two golden calves for convenience of wor- ship, one in Bethel at the south, and the other in Dan at the extreme north of his kingdom. (See map, p. 87.) 2 This term is now applied to the official head-dress of a bishop in the Roman Catholic Church. In Lycidas it is attributed to St. Peter as the first and greatest bishop of the Church, 8o INTRODUCTION. breastplate, set with twelve precious stones, and bearing the Urim and Thummim (objects, probably gems, hav- ing a mystic virtue). 90. For forty years this worship was kept up, while the people wandered about the desert, struggling against foes without and doubting within. Often they lost faith in their invisible Jehovah, and adopted the idol-worship of the nations among whom they wandered ; but by stern punishments, conjoined with merciful lenity, they were recalled to loyalty, and finally entered into posses- sion of the Promised Land. 91. Even during the final stage of their migrations, while passing through the territory of the Moabites, and in plain view of their journey's end, they degraded themselves and angered Jehovah by adopting the wor- ship of Peor, the native deity. This "wrought them woe," for they were attacked by a plague sent by Jehovah, which destroyed twenty-four thousand men. 92. Once in possession of Canaan, they became more thoroughly organized under the direction of a series of judges, whose authority was derived directly from Jehovah, and they entered upon a series of contests with the sur- rounding barbarous peoples. Especially spirited were their struggles with the Philistines, a tribe living on the seacoast. On one occasion the Ark of the Covenant was taken into battle against these foes, in the hope that the divine power of God, which was supposed to reside in it, might turn the scale of battle in favor of the Israel- ites. Jehovah, in displeasure at their presumption, allowed their enemies to win the victory and capture the sacred Ark. This was carried into Ashdod (see map, p. 87) and SEVENTEENTH-CENl u. set up as a trophy in the temple of the Phiiib. god, Dagon. But the presumption of the Phihstine^ likewise punished. For the priests, on entering the temple the next morning, found Dagon lying prone on the floor before the Ark of God. He was restored to his place, but the next morning he was found prostrate on the threshold of his temple, with head and hands lopped off. The Philistines, in awe of a deity so much more powerful than their own, restored the Ark to the Israelites. 93. A regularly organized kingdom succeeded the government by judges. Jerusalem was selected as th^ capital city, and there the main features of the Tabernacle were repeated in a permanent Temple, in which was placed the Ark. The city of Jerusalem occupied an elevation having two crests, Mount Zion (Sion) and Mount Moriah. Although the latter was the site of the temple mentioned above, Zion is the name more often employed in reference to the city itself. Indeed, this word has become a symbolic name for the Church of God on earth, and for Heaven considered as the " Holy City." On the south and west side of Jerusalem the land falls away into the valley of Hinnom, a place of great signifi- cance in religious history. For King Solomon, the builder of the Temple, although endowed by God with especial wisdom for his high duties, attempted to strengthen his kingdom politically by contracting marriage alliances with princesses of the surrounding heathen nations. To please these wives he allowed the worship of their local gods to be established in the valley of Hinnom, and a later king extended the idolatrous worship even into the courts of the temple of Jehovah on Mount Moriah. G .. TRODUCTION. .iS worship often consisted of revolting and cruel o ; in the case of the god Moloch, it included the sacrifice of children, while drums were beaten to drown their cries of agony. From these drums (Tophim) the place received the name Tophet. Still later. King Josiah purified the land of idol-worship. He assured its discon- tinuance in the valley of Hinnom by using that valley as a place for cremating the bodies of the dead, and his :;uccessors made it the receptacle for the offal from the city. The spot thus became doubly opprobrious to the Israelites, from its pollution with idols and with filth. When Christ washed to illustrate to the Jews the intensity of the final punishment for sin, he made use of this familiar scene (with its fires ever burning to consume the worthless refuse of the city, and its. worms ever feeding upon the corrupt and decaying masses) as a " type of Hell," declaring that the wicked should go away into "Ge Hinnom" — whence comes the word "Gehenna," a com- mon name for Hell. Almost equal in its evil associations, and detested for like reasons, was the southern crest of the Mount of Olives, as is indicated by its tide "The Mount of Offence." (See map, p. 87.) 95. The religious history of Israel from the days of Solomon to the time of Christ was marked by the same lapses of faith, the same corruption of worship, and the same reaction to the purer religion. From time to time monarchs like Ahab, having by conquest or by peaceful intercourse with neighboring states come into acquaint- ance with other religions, adopted the worship of foreign gods as supplementary to their own. So King Ahaz, although he had defeated the Syrians in several contests, SEVENTEENTH-CEN 1 ^ set up an altar to their god Rimmon/ \Vi, worsted by other enemies. For " he said, Becau^,. gods of the kings of Syria help them, therefore will i sacrifice to them, that they may help me. But they were the ruin of him, and of all Israel" (2 Chron. xxviii. 23). But although the kings were easily led astray, prophets arose from time to time, like Ezekiel (/^. L. L 455), to condemn the alienation of the race from the true God and to denounce woes upon the unfaithful monarch and nation. 96. Not all of these, like Ezekiel, denounced the woes to come. Some, like Isaiah, bore a message of a new and better time, when a leader should appear under whose inspiration the wavering should be established, the doubting faith be confirmed, and the evil be purged from God's children. And after many years of trouble such a leader appeared in the person of Christ. In this poem Milton expresses belief that Christ was that same Messiah who expelled Satan's host from Heaven, now in another guise encountering his old foe, to complete by his temp- tation, and death on the cross, the victory foreshadowed in that earlier triumph. (See 75.) 97. But why was a second victory necessary? Why should a just and kind God allow Satan to escape from 1 This he did in spite of a miracle performed shortly before by a prophet of Jehovah, demonstrating his superior power over Rinimon. For a chief officer of the king of Syria, who had failed to be cured of his leprosy through prayers to Rimmon, was instantly cured by obedience to a simple command of the Hebrew prophet (2 Kings V.) : " And he said, Behold now I know that there is no God in all the earth, but in Israel." .vODUCTION. .a men astray as we have seen that he did ? .cts for centuries the one unsolvable problem of the v^nristian theology. To answer it with some fulness, both by reasoning and by the exhibition in one comprehensive picture of the " ways_o£G^d to men " from the beginning of the World till its end, was a leading motive in Milton's mind for choosing the subject of Paradise Lost for his epic. His solution, in the briefest possible statement, is as follows : — a. Character is worthless until it has been made robust by teiiij3tatiQii_-stfG»gl3L_aild^_Yol^^ Man was placed on earth that he might develop a robust character. Therefore he must be free to sin, and must be exposed to temptation. b. Temptation could come to a sinless being only from without. Therefore Satan must be permitted to have access to man. c. God is both just and merciful : justice requires a penalty for sin, and mercy permits a loving friend to pay the penalty for the sinner, if the sinner is brought through his friend's unselfish sacrifice to the safue hatred for sin, and strength to resist te7nptation, that he would attain by paying the penalty himself. Therefore, God permitted his Son, moved by divine love for the sinful race of men, to take upon himself their life and their temptations, and ultimately to die in their stead. d. God's Providence (= foresight) perceived all this train of events from the beginning. Nothing was the effect of chance, for he knew that man would fall into sin and Satan would seem to triumph, but he also knew that to man he should ultimately give the victory SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY IDEAS. 85 through his Son, and that the redeemed race, because of its experience on earth, would in the end be more worthy of Heaven than the angels whose place was now forfeited had ever been. 98. It was the desire to set all this forth in convincing form that led Milton to utter his noble prayer : — " What in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support ; That, to the highth of this great argument, I may assert Eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men." 86 INTRODUCTION. Classic Lands. [Only those localities to which reference is made by Milton are indicated.] INTRODUCTION. 87 East from SCALE OF MILES 10 £0 30 The Holy Land. [The form of the names of localities is that employed by Milton.] INTRODUCTION. INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. Its History. This poem is the result of the union in one person of the highest quaHty of poetic genius, the most exalted personal character, and the most unremitting industry, all devoted through a period of more than sixty years to the accomphshment of a single purpose. In this state- ment the early productions of Milton are not ignored ; for at the time when he was composing his lyrics he had already formed the resolution to " write something that the world would not wilhngly let die," and all his minor poems were but the flights in which he tried his wings to gain strength for the great flight " above the Aonian mount" (/*. Z. I. 15). It was for this great work alone that he stored his mind with all the learning of the ages, and exercised his soul in all godly discipline from earliest boyhood. Immediately upon his return from Italy in 1639, Milton turned his attention to the composition of his projected masterpiece. He noted down, in a list which still exists, over one hundred possible subjects from which to select, and seems to have considered the subject of the Arthurian legend ^ a very promising one. His intensely religious 1 This legend deals with the Britons, or ancient inhabitants of England, who were early driven westward into the mountain fast- nesses of Wales by Saxon, Danish, and Anglian invaders, but who, in those retreats, long retained their pride of ancient lineage, their 90 INTRODUCTION. bent, however, soon led him to fix upon the subject of Paradise Lost, and he next began to weigh the respective merits of the dramatic and the epic forms. Four tenta- tive drafts of characters and leading incidents, which he drew up at this time, exhibit clearly his progress toward a decision in favor of the epic form. Short passages were composed as early as 1642, of which one (jP. L, IV. 32-41) was originally designed to form a part of the introduction to the contemplated tragedy. The duties of his position in the pubHc service forced him to lay this too ambitious work aside for sixteen years, to renew it only when failing sight had made him unable longer to bear an active share in the duties of the secretaryship, although he still held the position. About eight years were spent in the actual composition of the poem ; much of this time he was blind, and was compelled to dictate to some assistant each day the lines freshly composed. The work was completed in 1665, was pubHshed in 1667, and met with immediate acceptance in the world of literature as one of the few great masterpieces of its class. Druidic religion, and their Celtic speech. The legend describes how, about the sixth century, to King Uther succeeded his son Arthur, whose brilliant reign was marked by great advances in civiHzation. Arthur gathered about him a group of noble warriors called the " Knights of the Round Table," sworn to crush lawlessness, eschew vice, protect the weak, and defend the kingdom from Saxon in- vaders. Their adventures would undoubtedly have afforded Milton abundant opportunity for the exhibition of his genius in epic composition. INTRODUCTION TO PARADISE LOST. 91 Its Characteristics. And here we are led to inquire, " What constitutes a masterpiece of the epic class?" The answer to this question should be sought by the reader in the work itself, but it may be well to offer a few suggestions to guide his search. In the first place, an epic, as a narrative of a series of events, must necessarily be a poe m of great length. Its subject must therefore be ofa. serious and noble character, I worthy of exhaustive treatment, and the events must be ' of a dramatic nature ; that is, they must centre around : some common object of interest, they must tend towards i some important issue, they must form a succession of minor episodes, varied in character and each a minor climax in itself. Only thus can interest in so pretentious a work be kept unimpaired. Furthermore, the subject must be so related to humanity, so removed from purely local or merely transitory interests, that no difference of place or time can destroy the interest that it has for mankind. Secon dly, the style must rise to " the highth of the great argument," and this implies that the poet must have command of a large vocabulary, must have an ear attuned to the melody of spoken sound and a taste developed by acquaintance with the best literature of all ages, and must feel an eager enthusiasm for his subject. He must be a master, not of style, but of styles, since he must alternate narration with description, and treat scenes of the most varied nature. Herein lies the explanation of the rarity of great epics. Poetic inspiration is rarely con- 92 INTRODUCTION. tinuous for any long time, and only consummate genius can write for thousands of lines, adhering to a uniformly strong and musical style, yet avoiding artificiality and dis- sonance between subject and expression. Thirdly, the metrical form must be suited to the dig- nity of the theme, chanting in stately rhythm the paean of noble deeds, subtly adapting itself to the varying sub- ject, yet never becoming trivial or commonplace, lend- ing the power of its onward impulse to carry the reader with unabated interest from page to page of the long narrative. The selections from Paradise Lost that follow are intended to enable the reader to determine for himself Milton's claim to a place among the great epic poets. They include the principal portions of the poem which deal with the career of Satan, the central figure of the first two books ifnoTofTtm entire poem. If the student brings to the reading a mind prepared by an examination of the conditions under which Milton wrote, and pos- sessed of an intelligent idea of the task to which Milton applied himself, he cannot fail to find both pleasure and profit in the perusal of the poem. Suggestions to direct his thought and to quicken his perception of points that might easily pass unnoticed will be found at the conclu- sion of the selections (p. 232). THE VERSE. The measure is English heroic verse without rime, as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin — rime being no necessary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarious age, to set off wretched matter and lame metre ; graced indeed since by the use of some famous modern poets, carried away by custom, but much to their own vexation, hindrance, and constraint to express many things otherwise, and for the most part worse, than else they would have expressed them. Not without cause therefore some both Italian and Spanish poets of prime note have rejected rime both in longer and shorter works, as have also long since our best English tragedies, as a thing of itself, to all judicious ears, trivial and of no true musical delight ; which consists only in apt numbers, fit quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another, not in the jingling sound of like endings — a fault avoided by the learned, ancients both in poetry and all good oratory. This neglect then of rime so little is to be taken for a defect, though it may seem so perhaps to vulgar readers, that it rather is to be esteemed an example set, the first in EngHsh, of ancient liberty recovered to heroic poem from the trouble- some and modern bondage of riming. — \_Fro7?t Milton's Preface^ 93 PARADISE LOST. BOOK 1. THE ARGUMENT. This First Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject — Man's disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he was placed : then touches the prime cause of his fall — the Serpent, or rather Satan in the Serpent ; who, revolting from God, and drawing to his side many legions of Angels, was, by the command of God, driven out of Heaven, with all his crew, into the great Deep. Which action passed over, the Poem hastens into the midst of things ; presenting Satan, with his Angels, now fallen into Hell — described here not in the Centre (for heaven and earth may be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed), but in a place of utter darkness, fitliest called Chaos. Here Satan, with his Angels lying on the burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after a certain space recovers, as from confusion; calls up him who, next in order and dignity, lay by him : they confer of their mis- erable fall. Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same manner confounded. They rise : their numbers ; array of battle ; their chief leaders named, according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his speech ; com- forts them with hope yet of regaining Heaven ; but tells them, lastly, of a new world and new kind of creature to be created, according to an ancient prophecy, or report, in Heaven — for that Angels were long before this visible creation was the opinion of many ancient Fathers. To find out the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. What his associates thence attempt. Pandemo- nium, the palace of Satan, rises, suddenly built out of the Deep : the infer- nal Peers there sit in council. 96 Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 97 BOOK I. Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and all our woe,^ With loss of Eden, till one greater Man ^ Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, Sing, Heavenly Muse,'^ that, on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire That shepherd ^ who first taught the chosen seed In the beginning how the heavens and earth Rose out of Chaos : or, if Sion hill^ Dehght thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed Fast by the oracle of God,* I thence Invoke thy aid to my adventrous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian mount,'' while it pursues Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Before all temples the upright heart and pure, Instruct me, for Thou know'st ; Thou from the first Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread. Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss,t And mad'st it pregnant : what in me is dark 178,79. 297- '36. ^70.84,81,76,88. 593. 636. * See map, p. 88. t VII. 230 + . H 98 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. Illumine, what is low raise and support ; That, to the highth of this great argument, I may assert Eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men.^ Say first — for Heaven hides nothing from thy view, Nor the deep tract of Hell — say first what cause Moved our grand Parents, in that happy state, Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off 30 From their Creator, and transgress his will For one restraint, lords of the World besides. Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? The infernal Serpent ; - he it was whose guile, Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived The mother of mankind, what time his pride Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host Of rebel Angels," by whose aid, aspiring To set himself in glory above his peers. He trusted to have equalled the Most High, 40 If he opposed, and, with ambitious aim Against the throne and monarchy of God, Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud. With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal^ sky,* With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. Nine times the space that measures day and night 50 To mortal men, he> with his horrid crew, 97. 4 5. * VI. 856-866. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 99 Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf, Confounded, though immortal. But his doom Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought Both of lost happiness and lasting pain Torments him : round he throws his baleful eyes, That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. At once, as far as Angel's ken, he views The dismal situation waste and wild. 60 A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames No light ; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe. Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell, hope never comes That comes to all, but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. Such place Eternal Justice had prepared 70 For those rebellious ; here their prison ordained In utter darkness, and their portion set, iVs far removed from God and light of Heaven As from the centre ^ thrice to the utmost pole. Oh how unlike the place from whence they fell ! There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, He soon discerns ; and, weltering by his side. One next himself in power, and next in crime, Long after known in Palestine, and named 80 loo PARADISE LOST. [Book I, Beelzebub. To whom the Arch-Enemy, And thence in Heaven called Satan^ with bold words Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : — " If thou beest he — but Oh how fallen ! how changed From him ! — who, in the happy realms of light, Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine Myriads, though bright — if he whom mutual league, United thoughts and counsels, equal hope And hazard in the glorious enterprise, Joined with me once, now misery hath joined 90 In equal ruin ; into what pit thou seest From what highth fallen : so much the stronger proved He with his thunder : and till then who knew The force of those dire arms ? Yet not for those, Nor what the potent Victor in his rage Can else inflict, do I repent, or change. Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind. And high disdain from sense of injured merit. That with the Mightiest raised me to contend. And to the fierce contention brought along 100 Innumerable force of Spirits armed. That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring. His utmost power with adverse power opposed In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven, And shook his throne. What though the field be lost ? All is not lost — the unconquerable will. And study of revenge, immortal hate, i\nd courage never to submit or yield — And what is else not to be overcome ? — ^75. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. loi That glory never shall his wrath or might no Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify his power Who, from the terror of this arm, so late Doubted his empire — that were low indeed ; That were an ignominy and shame beneath This downfall ; since, by fate, the strength of Gods, And this empyreal substance,^ cannot fail ; Since, through experience of this great event. In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced. We may with more successful hope resolve 120 To wage by force or guile eternal war. Irreconcilable to our grand Foe, Who now triumphs, and in the excess of joy Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven." So spake the apostate Angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair ; And him thus answered soon his bold compeer : — " O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers That led the embattled Seraphim to war Under thy conduct, and, in dreadful deeds 130 Fearless, endangered Heaven's perpetual King,* And put to proof his high supremacy, Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate ! Too well I see and rue the dire event That, with sad overthrow and foul defeat, Hath lost us Heaven, and all this mighty host In horrible destruction laid thus low. As far as Gods and Heavenly Essences ^ 1 5. * II. 992. I02 PARADISE LOST. [Book 1. Can perish : for the mind and spirit remains Invincible, and vigour soon returns, 140 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state Here swallowed up in endless misery. But what if He our Conqueror (whom I now Of force beHeve almighty, since no less Than such could have o'erpowered such force as ours) Have left us this our spirit and strength entire, Strongly to suffer and support our pains, That we may so suffice his vengeful ire, Or do him mightier service as his thralls By right of war, whate'er his business be, 150 Here in the heart of Hell to work in fire, Or do his errands in the gloomy Deep ? What can it then avail though yet we feel Strength undiminished, or eternal being To undergo eternal punishment?" Whereto with speedy words the Arch-Fiend rephed : — " Fallen Cherub,^ to be weak is miserable. Doing or suffering : but of this be sure — To do aught good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our sole dehght, ' t6o As being the contrary to His high will Whom we resist. If then his providence Out of our evil seek to bring forth good,^ Our labour must be to pervert that end. And out of good still to find means of evil ; Which ofttimes may succeed so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 1 72. 2 g*7^ gg^ Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 103 His inmost counsels from their destined aim. But see ! the angry Victor hath recalled His ministers of vengeance and pursuit* 170 Back to the gates of Heaven : the sulphurous hail, Shot after us in storm, o'erblown hath laid The fiery surge that from the precipice Of Heaven received us falling ; and the thunder, Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage, f Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now To bel^w through the vast and boundless Deep. Let us iiat>slip the occasion, whether scorn Or satiate fury yield it from our Foe. Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 180 The seat of desolation, void of Hght, Save what the glimmering of these livid flames Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend From off the tossing of these fiery waves ; There rest, if any rest can harbour there ; And, re-assembling our afflicted powers, Consult how we may henceforth most oifend Our enemy, our own loss how repair. How overcome this dire calamity, What reinforcement we may gain from hope, 190 If not what resolution from despair." Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate. With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkhng blazed ; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large. Lay floating many a rood, in bulk as huge *IL 996+. tVL 831-855. 104 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. As whom the fables name of monstrous size, Titanian,^ or Earth-born that warred on Jove,^ Briareos,'^ or Typhon, whom the den By ancient Tarsus held/ or that sea-beast 20c Leviathan,* which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean-stream. Him, haply slumbering on the Norway foam, The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff, Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell. With fixed anchor in his scaly rind, Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays. So stretched out huge in length the Arch- Fiend lay. Chained on the burning lake ; nor ever thence 21c Had risen, or heaved his head, but that the will And high permission of all-ruling Heaven Left him at large to his own dark designs. That with reiterated crimes he might Heap on himself damnation, while he sought Evil to others, and enraged might see How all his malice served but to bring forth Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shewn On Man by him seduced, but on himself Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured. 22c Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames Driven backward slope their pointing spires, and, rolled In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 1 28. ^ 29, 32. 3 31. 4 32. * VII. 412. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 105 Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, That felt unusual weight ; till on dry land He lights — if it were land that ever burned With solid, as the lake with liquid fire, And such appeared in hue as when the force 230 OT subterranean wind transports a hill Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side Of thundering ^Etna, whose combustible And fuelled entrails, thence conceiving fire, Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds. And leave a singed bottom all involved With stench and smoke.^ Such resting found the sole Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate ; Both glorying to have scaped the Stygian flood As gods, and by their own recovered strength, 240 Not by the sufferance of supernal power. '' Is this the region, this the soil, the chme," Said then the lost Archangel,^ " this the seat That we must change for Heaven? — this mournful gloom For that celestial light ? Be it so, since He Who now is sovran can dispose and bid What shall be right : farthest from Him is best. Whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields. Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 250 Infernal world ! and thou, profoundest Hell, Receive thy new possessor — one who brings A mind not to be changed by place or time. The mind is its own place,* and in itself 1 See Biographical Outline, p. 6. ^ 72. * IV. 75. io6 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven. What matter where, if I be still the same, And what I should be, all but less than he Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 26a Here we may reign secure ; and, in my choice. To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell : Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. But wherefore let we then our faithful friends, The associates and co-partners of our loss, Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool. And call them not to share with us their part In this unhappy mansion, or once more With rallied arms to try what may be yet Regained in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell?" 270 So Satan spake ; and him Beelzebub Thus answered : — " Leader of those armies bright Which, but the Omnipotent, none could have foiled ! If once they hear that voice, their liveUest pledge Of hope in fears and dangers — heard so oft In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge Of battle, when it raged, in all assaults Their surest signal — they will soon resume New courage and revive, though now they lie Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 280 As we erewhile, astounded and amazed ; No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth ! " He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore ; his ponderous shield,* * VL 254. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 107 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round. Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass * the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. ^ His spear — to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand — He walked with, to support uneasy steps Over the burning marie, not like those steps On Heaven's azure ; and the torrid clime Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire. Nathless he so endured, till on the beach Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 300 His legions — Angel Forms, who lay entranced Thick as autumnal leaves that strow the brooks In Vallombrosa,^ where the Etrurian shades High over-arched embower ; or scattered sedge Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion ^ armed Hath vexed the Red-Sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew Busiris and his Memphian chivalry,* While with perfidious hatred they pursued The sojourners of Goshen,^ who beheld From the safe shore their floating carcases 310 And broken chariot-wheels. So thick bestrown, 1 See Biographical Outline, p. 5; and 17. 2 See Biographical Outline, p. 5. ^ 12, 16. 4 35, 5 83. * III. 590. io8 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. Abject and lost, lay these, covering the flood, Under amazement of their hideous change. He called so loud that all the hollow deep Of Hell resounded : — " Princes, Potentates, Warriors, the Flower of Heaven — once yours ; now lost, If such astonishment as this can seize Eternal Spirits ! Or have ye chosen this place After the toil of battle to repose Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 320 To slumber here, as in the vales of Heaven? Or in this abject posture have ye sworn To adore the Conqueror, who now beholds Cherub and Seraph ^ rolling in the flood With scattered arms and ensigns, till anon His swift pursuers from Heaven-gates discern The advantage, and, descending, tread us down Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf? — Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ! " 330 They heard, and were abashed, and up they sprung Upon the wing, as when men wont to watch, On duty sleeping found by whom they dread, Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. Nor did they not perceive the evil plight In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel ; Yet to their General's voice they soon obeyed Innumerable. As when the potent rod Of Amram's son,^ in Egypt's evil day. Waved round the coast, up-called a pitchy cloud 340 1 72. 2 s^, 85. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 109 Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, That o'er the reahn of impious Pharaoh hung Like Night, and darkened all the land of Nile : So numberless were those bad Angels seen Hovering on wing under the cope of Hell, 'Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires ; Till, as a signal given, the uphfted spear Of their great Sultan waving to direct Their course, in even balance down they light On the firm brimstone, and fill all the plain : 350 A multitude like which the populous North Poured never from her frozen loins to pass Rhene or the Danaw, when her barbarous sons Came like a deluge on the South, and spread Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. Forthwith, from every squadron and each band, The heads and leaders thither haste where stood Their great Commander — godlike Shapes, and Forms Excelling human ; princely Dignities ; And Powers that erst in Heaven sat on thrones, 360 Though of their names in Heavenly records now Be no memorial, blotted out and rased By their rebellion from the Books of Life. Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve Got them new names, till, wandering o'er the earth, Through God's high sufferance for the trial of man. By falsities and lies * the greatest part Of mankind they corrupted to forsake God their Creator, and the invisible * I. 740-747- no PARADISE LOST. [Book I. Glory of Him that made them to transform 370 Oft to the image of a brute, adorned With gay rehgions full of pomp and gold, And devils to adore for deities : Then were they known to men by various names, And various idols through the heathen world. Say, Muse, their names then known, who first, who last, Roused from the slumber on that fiery couch, At their great Emperor's call, as next in worth Came singly where he stood on the bare strand. While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 380 The chief were those who, from the pit of Hell Roaming to seek their prey on Earth, durst fix Their seats, long after, next the seat of God, Their altars by His altar, gods adored Among the nations round, and durst abide Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned Between the Cherubim;^ yea, often placed Within His sanctuary itself their shrines, Abominations ; and with cursed things His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned, 390 And with their darkness durst affront His fight. P'irst, Moloch* horrid king, besmeared with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears ; Though, for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, Their children's cries unheard that passed through fire To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite Worshiped in Rabba and her watery plain, In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 1 89, 93- * II- 43- Book I.] PARADISE LOST. in Of utmost Arnon.^ Nor content with such Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 400 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build His temple right against the temple of God On that opprobrious hill,- and made his grove' The pleasant valley of Hinnom, Tophet thence And black Gehenna called, the type of Hell. Next Chemos, the obscene dread of Moab's sons. From Aroar to Nebo and the wild Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon And Horonaim, Seon's realm, beyond The flowery dale of Sibma clad with vines, 410 And Eleal^ to the Asphaltic Pool : Peor his other name, when he enticed Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe.^ Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged Even to that hill of scandal,-' by the grove Of Moloch homicide, lust hard by hate, Till good Josiah drove them thence to Hell. With these came they who, from the bordering flood Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 420 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names Of Baalim and Ashtaroth — those male. These feminine. For Spirits,* when they please, Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft And uncompounded is their essence pure. Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, ^ See map, p. 87, for these and places following, to 505. 2 93, 94. 3 91 * VI. 344 + . 112 PARADISE LOST. [Book I Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose, Dilated or condensed,* bright or obscure, Can execute their aery purposes, 430 And works*of love or enmity fulfil. For those the race of Israel oft forsook Their' Living Strength, and unfrequented left His righteous altar, bowing lowly down To bestial gods ; for which their heads, as low Bowed down in battle, sunk before the spear • Of despicable foes.^ With these in troop Came AstoretJi, whom the Phoenicians called Astarte,- queen of heaven, with crescent horns ; f To whose bright image nightly by the moon 440 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; In Sion also not unsung, where stood Her temple on the offensive mountain,^ built By that uxorious king whose heart, though large. Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell To idols foul. Tlianunuz came next behind, Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured The Syrian damsels to lament his fate In amorous ditties all a summer's day. While smooth Adonis from his native rock 450 Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood Of Thammuz yearly wounded :^ the love-tale Infected Sion's daughters with like heat, Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 188,95. -46. ^93,94. M7- * I. 789. t VII. 366; 14. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 113 Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, His eye surveyed the dark idolatries Of alienated Jiidah.' Next came one Who mourned in earnest, when the captive ark Maimed his brute image, head and hands lopt off. In his own temple, on the grunsel-edge, 460 Where he fell flat and shamed his worshipers : ^ Dagofi his name, sea- monster, upward man And downward fish ; yet had his temple high Reared in Azotus, dreaded through the coast Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, And Accaron and Gaza's frontier bounds. Him followed Riinmon, whose delightful seat Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. He also against the house of God was bold : 470 A leper once he lost, and gained a king — Ahaz, his sottish conqueror, whom he drew God's altar to disparage and displace For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn His odious offerings, and adore the gods Whom he had vanquished." After these appeared A crew who, under names of old renown — Osiris, /sis, Orus, and their train — With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused Fanatic Egypt and her priests to seek 480 Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms Rather than human.^ Nor did Israel scape The infection, when their borrowed gold composed I96. --292. ^9S- *55- I 114 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. The calf in Oreb;^ and the rebel king Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan,- Likening his Maker to the grazed ox — Jehovah, who, in one night, when he passed From Egypt marching, equalled with one stroke Both her first-born and all her bleating gods.^ Belial^ came last ; than whom a Spirit more lewd 490 Fell not from Heaven, or more gross to love Vice for itself. To him no temple stood Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he In temples and at altars, when the priest Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled With lust and violence the house of God ? In courts and palaces he also reigns, And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury and outrage ; and, when night 500 Darkens the streets, then wand-er forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night In Gibeah, when the hospitable door Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. These were the prime in order and in might : The rest were long to tell ; though far renowned The Ionian gods — of Javan's issue ^ held Gods, yet confessed later than Heaven and Earth, Their boasted parents; — Titan;' Heaven's first-born, 510 With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 1 86, 88. 2 88, note. » 85. ^ go. 5 29. * II. 109; VI. 620. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 115 By younger Saturn : he from mightier Jove, His own and Rhea's son, Hke measure found ;^ ^0 Jove usurping reigned. These, first in Crete And Ida known,- thence on the snowy top Of cold Olympus'^ ruled the middle air, Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian"* chff, Or in Dodona," and through all the bounds Of Doric land ; or who with Saturn old Fled over Adria^ to the Hesperian*^ fields, 520 And o'er the Celtic roamed the utmost Isles. All these and more came flocking ; but with looks Downcast and damp ; yet such wherein appeared Obscure some glimpse of joy to have found their Chief Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost In loss itself; which on his countenance cast Like doubtful hue. But he, his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised Their fainting courage, and dispelled their fears : 530 Then straight commands that, at the warlike sound Of trumpets loud and clarions, be upreared His mighty standard. That proud honour claimed Azazel as his right, a Cherub tall : Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled The imperial ensign ; which, full high advanced, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind. With gems and golden lustre rich emblazed. Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 1 31. ^ 3A- See map, p. 86, for all these places. ^2,2,. * 39. ° 31. 6 See Glossary. ii6 PARADISE LOST. [Book I Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : 540 At which the universal host up-sent A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air, With orient colours waving : with them rose A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms Appeared, and serried shields in thick array Of depth immeasurable. Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 550 Of flutes and soft recorders — such as raised To highth of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle, and instead of rage Deliberate valour breathed, firm, and unmoved With dread of death to flight or foul retreat ; Nor wanting power to mitigate and swage With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase Anguish and doubt and fear and sorrow and pain From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they. Breathing united force with fixed thought, 560 Moved on in silence to soft pipes that charmed Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil. And now Advanced in view they stand — a horrid front Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise Of warriors old, with ordered spear and shield. Awaiting what command their mighty Chief Had to impose. He through the armed files Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse The whole battaUon views — their order due, Their visages and stature as of gods ; 570 Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 117 Their number last he sums. And now his heart Distends with pride, and, hardening in his strength. Glories : for never, since created Man, Met such embodied force as, named with these. Could merit more than that small infantry* Warred on by cranes ' — though all the giant brood Of Phlegra- with the heroic race were joined That fought at Thebes'' and Ilium,'* on each side Mixed with auxiliar gods ; and what resounds In fable or romance of Uther's son,"' 580 Begirt with British and Armoric knights ; And all who since, baptized or infidel,! Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore When Charlemain with all his peerage fell By Fontarabbia.^ Thus far these beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed Their dread Commander. He, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 590 Stood like a tower. His form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appeared Less than Archangel ruined, and the excess Of glory obscured : as when the sun new-risen Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or, from behind the moon. In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change 56. 2 ^2. 3 55 4 5^^ 5^ 5 Seg p^ 8^^ foot-note. * I. 780. t I. 763 + - ii8 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. Perplexes monarchs.^ Darkened so, yet shone Above them all the Archangel : but his face 600 Deep scars of thunder had intrenched, and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride Waiting revenge. Cruel his eye, but cast Signs of remorse and passion, to behold The fellows of his crime, the followers rather (Far other once beheld in bliss), condemned For ever now to have their lot in pain — Millions of Spirits for his fault amerced Of Heaven, and from eternal splendours flung 610 For his revolt — yet faithful how they stood. Their glory withered ; as, when heaven's fire Hath scathed the forest oaks or mountain pines. With singed top their stately growth, though bare. Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared To speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend From wing to wing, and half enclose him round With all his peers : Attention held them mute. Thrice he assayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn, Tears, such as Angels weep, burst forth : at last 620 Words interwove with sighs found out their way : — " O myriads of immortal Spirits ! O Powers Matchless, but with the Almighty ! — and that strife Was not inglorious, though the event was dire. As this place testifies, and this dire change. Hateful to utter. But what power of mind. Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 119 Of knowledge past or present, could have feared How such united force of gods, how such As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 630 For who can yet believe, though after loss, That all these puissant legions, whose exile Hath emptied Heaven,* shall fail to re-ascend. Self-raised, and re-possess their native seat? For me, be witness all the host of Heaven, If counsels different, or danger shunned By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reigns Monarch in Heaven till then as one secure Sat on his throne, upheld by old repute. Consent or custom, and his regal state 640 Put forth at full, but still his strength concealed — Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. Henceforth his might we know, and know our own. So as not either to provoke, or dread New war provoked : our better part remains To work in close design, by fraud or guile, What force effected not ; that he no less At length from us may find, Who overcomes By force hath overcome but half his foe. Space may produce new Worlds ; whereof so rife j 650 There went a fame in Heaven that He ere long Intended to create, and therein plant A generation whom his choice regard Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven. Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps Our first eruption — thither, or elsewhere ; * 11. 692. til. 345 -f. 120 PARADISE LOST. [Book I For this infernal pit shall never hold Celestial Spirits in bondage, nor the Abyss Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts Full counsel must mature. Peace is despaired ; 660 For who can think submission ? War, then, war Open or understood, must be resolved." He spake ; and, to confirm his words, out-flew MilUons of flaming swords,^ drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war. Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven. There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 670 Belched fire and rolUng smoke ; the rest entire Shone with a glossy scurf — undoubted sign That in his womb was hid metalHc ore. The work of sulphur.- Thither, winged with speea, A numerous brigad hastened : as when bands Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe armed, Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field, Or cast a rampart. Mammon* led them on — Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell 679 From Heaven ; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold. Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific. By him first Men also, and by his suggestion taught, 1 73. 2 6. * II. 228. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 121 Ransacked the Centre/ and with impious hands Rifled the bowels of their mother Earth For treasures better hid. Soon had his crew Opened into the hill a spacious wound, And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 690 That riches grow in Hell ; that soil may best Deserve the precious bane. And here let those Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell Of Babel,- and the works of Memphian - kings, Learn how their greatest monuments of fame, And strength, and art, are easily outdone By Spirits reprobate, and in an hour What in an age they, with incessant toil And hands innumerable, scarce perform. Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared, 700 That underneath had veins of liquid fire Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude With wondrous art founded the massy ore. Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion-dross. A third as soon had formed within the ground A various mould, and from the boiling cells By strange conveyance filled each hollow nook ; As in an organ, from one blast of wind, To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. Anon out of the earth a fabric huge 710 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet — Built like a temple, where pilasters round Were set, and Doric pillars overlaid 56. 122 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. With golden architrave ; nor did there want Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven : The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon ^ Nor great Alcairo such magnificence Equalled in all their glories, to enshrine Belus or Serapis ^ their gods, or seat 720 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile Stood fixed her stately highth ; and straight the doors, Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide Within, her ample spaces o'er the smooth And level pavement : from the arched roof, Pendent by subtle magic, many a row Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light As from a sky. The hasty multitude 730 Admiring entered ; and the work some praise. And some the architect. His hand was known In Heaven by many a towered structure high, Where sceptred Angels held their residence,^ And sat as Princes, whom the supreme King Exalted to such power, and gave to rule. Each in his hierarchy, the Orders bright. Nor was his name unheard or unadored In ancient Greece ; and in x^usonian land Men called him Mulciber ; ^ and how he fell 740 From Heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 156. ^55. 372. 445. Book I.] PARADISE LOST. 123 A summer's day, and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith, Hke a falUng star. On Lemnos, the yEgsean isle. Thus they relate, Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout Fell long before ; nor aught availed him now To have built in Heaven high towers ; nor did he scape By all his engines, but was headlong sent, 750 With his industrious crew, to build in Hell. Meanwhile the winged Haralds, by command Of sovran power, with awful ceremony And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim A solemn council forthwith to be held At Pandemonium, the high capital Of Satan and his peers. Their summons called From every band and squared regiment By place or choice the worthiest : they anon With hundreds and with thousands trooping came 760 Attended. All access was thronged ; the gates And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall (Though like a covered field, where champions bold Wont ride in armed,* and at the Soldan's chair Defied the best of Panim chivalry To mortal combat, or career with lance), Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air, Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees In spring-time, when the Sun with Taurus ^ rides. Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 770 In clusters ; they among fresh dews and flowers Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 1 12. * I. 582. 124 PARADISE LOST. [Book I. The suburb of their straw-built citadel, New rubbed with balm, expatiate, and confer Their state-affairs : so thick the aery crowd Swarmed and were straitened ; till, the signal given. Behold a wonder ! They but now who seemed In bigness to surpass Earth's giant sons, Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room Throng numberless — like that pygmean race * 780 Beyond the Indian mount ; ^ or faery elves. Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the Moon t Sits arbitress, and nearer to the Earth Wheels her pale course : - they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest forms Reduced their shapes immense, | and were at large, 790 Though without number still, amidst the hall Of that infernal court. But far within, And in their own dimensions like themselves. The great Seraphic Lords and Cherubim In close recess and secret conclave sat, A thousand demi-gods on golden seats, Frequent and full. After short silence then, And summons read, the great consult began. 1 56. 2 ,9. * 1. 575- t n. 665. 1 1- 423. PARADISE LOST. BOOK II. THE ARGUMENT. The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the recovery of Heaven: some advise it, others dis- suade. A third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan — to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in Heaven concerning another world, and another kind of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to themselves, about this time to be created. Their doubt who shall be sent on this difficult search : Satan, their chief, undertakes alone the voyage ; is honoured and applauded. The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways and to several employments, as their in- clinations lead them, to entertain the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to Hell-gates; finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them ; by whom at length they are opened, and discover to him the great gulf between Hell and Heaven. With what difficulty he passes through, directed by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new World which he sought. 126 Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 127 BOOK II. High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus ^ and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat, by merit raised To that bad eminence; and, from despair Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught. His proud imaginations thus displayed : — " Powers and Dominions, Deities of Heaven ! — For, since no deep within her gulf can hold Immortal vigour, though oppressed and fallen, I give not Heaven for lost : from this descent Celestial Virtues rising will appear More glorious and more dread than from no fall, And trust themselves to fear no second fate ! — Me though just right, and the fixed laws of Heaven, Did first create your leader — next, free choice. With what besides in council or in fight Hath been achieved of merit — yet this loss. Thus far at least recovered, hath much more Estabhshed in a safe, unenvied throne, 56. 128 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Yielded with full consent. The happier state In Heaven, which follows dignity, might draw Envy from each inferior ; but who here Will envy whom the highest place exposes Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share Of endless pain? Where there is, then, no good 30 For which to strive, no strife can grow up there From faction : for none sure will claim in Hell Precedence ; none whose portion is so small Of present pain that with ambitious mind Will covet more ! With this advantage, then, To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, More than can be in Heaven, we now return To claim our just inheritance of old, Surer to prosper than prosperity Could have assured us ; and by what best way, 40 Whether of open war or covert guile, We now debate. Who can advise may speak." He ceased ; and next him Moloch,* sceptred king, Stood up — the strongest and the fiercest Spirit That fought in Heaven, now fiercer by despair. His trust was with the Eternal to be deemed Equal in strength, and rather than be less Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost Went all his fear : of God, or Hell, or worse, He recked not, and these words thereafter spake : — 50 •' My sentence is for open war. Of wiles. More unexpert, I boast not : them let those * I. 392. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 129 Contrive who need, or when they need ; not now. For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest — Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait The signal to ascend — sit Hngering here. Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place Accept this dark opprobrious den of shame, The prison of His tyranny who reigns By our delay? No ! let us rather choose, 60 Armed with Hell-flames and fury, all at once O'er Heaven's high towers to force resistless way, Turning our tortures into horrid arms Against the Torturer ; when, to meet the noise Of his almighty engine,* he shall hear Infernal thunder, and, for lightning, see Black fire and horror shot with equal rage Among his Angels, and his throne itself Mixed with Tartarean sulphur and strange fire, His own invented torments. But perhaps 70 The way seems difficult, and steep to scale With upright wing against a higher foe ! Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench Of that forgetful lake benumb not still. That in our proper motion we ascend Up to our native seat ; descent and fall To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, When the fierce foe hung on our broken rear Insulting, and pursued us through the Deep, With what compulsion and laborious flight 80 We sunk thus low ? The ascent is easy, then ; * VL749+. I30 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. The event is feared ! Should we again provoke Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find To our destruction, if there be in Hell Fear to be worse destroyed ! What can be worse Than to dwell here, driven out from bhss, condemned In this abhorred deep to utter woe ; Where pain of unextinguishable fire Must exercise us without hope of end The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 90 Inexorably, and the torturing hour. Calls us to penance ? More destroyed than thus, We should be quite abolished, and expire. What fear we then? what doubt we to incense His utmost ire? which, to the highth enraged, Will either quite consume us, and reduce To nothing this essential ^ — happier far Than miserable to have eternal being.! — Or, if our substance be indeed divine. And cannot cease to be,* we are at worst 100 On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel Our power sufficient to disturb his Heaven, And with perpetual inroads to alarm, Though inaccessible, his fatal throne : Which, if not victory, is yet revenge." He ended frowning, and his look denounced Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous To less than gods. On the other side up rose Behaljt in act more graceful and humane. A fairer person lost not Heaven; he seemed no 15. * VI. 853+. tI.49o+. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. i, For dignity composed, and high exploit. But all was false and hollow ; though his tongue nro])t manna/ and could make the worse appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low — To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds Timorous and slothful. Yet he pleased the ear, And with persuasive accent thus began : — " I should be much for open war, O Peers, As not behind in hate, if what was urged i Main reason to persuade immediate war Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast Ominous conjecture on the whole success ; When he who most excels in fact of arms. In what he counsels and in what excels Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair And utter dissolution, as the scope Of all his aim, after some dire revenge. First, what revenge ? The towers of Heaven are filled With armed watch, that render all access i Impregnable : oft on the bordering Deep Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing Scout far and wide into the realm of Night, Scorning surprise. Or, could we break our way By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise With blackest insurrection to confound Heaven's purest light, yet our great Enemy, All incorruptible, would on his throne Sit unpolluted, and the ethereal- mould, ' 87. 2 5, 73. 132 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Incapable of stain, would soon expel 140 Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire, Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope Is flat despair : we must exasperate The Almighty Victor to spend all his rage ; And that must end us ; that must be our cure — To be no more. Sad cure ! for who would lose. Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity. To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated Night, 150 Devoid of sense and motion? And who knov/s. Let this be good, whether our angry Foe Can give it, or will ever? How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. Will He, so wise, let loose at once his ire. Belike through impotence or unaware, To give his enemies their wish, and end Them in his anger whom his anger saves To punish endless ? ' Wherefore cease we, then ? ' Say they who counsel war ; ' we are decreed, 160 Reserved, and destined to eternal woe ; Whatever doing, what can we suffer more, What can we suffer worse? ' Is this, then, worst — Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms? What when we fled amain, pursued and strook With Heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse. What if the breath that kindled those grim fires, 170 Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 133 Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, And plunge us in the flames ; or from above Should intermitted vengeance arm again His red right hand to plague us ? What if all Her stores were opened, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war. Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled, 180 Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Of racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boihng ocean, wrajjt in chains, There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse. War, therefore, open or concealed, alike My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile With Him, or who deceive His mind, whose eye Views all things at one view? He from Heaven's highth All these our motions vain sees and derides, 191 Not more almighty to resist our might Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. Shall we, then, live thus vile — the race of Heaven Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here Chains and these torments? Better these than worse, By my advice ; since fate inevitable Subdues us, and omnipotent decree. The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do. Our strength is equal ; nor the law unjust 200 That so ordains. This was at first resolved. 134 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. If we were wise, against so great a foe Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. I laugh when those who at the spear are bold And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear What yet they know must follow — to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain. The sentence of their conqueror. This is now Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear. Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit 21c His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed, Not mind us not offending, satisfied With what is punished ; whence these raging fires Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames. Our purer essence ^ then will overcome Their noxious vapour ; or, inured, not feel ; Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed In temper and in nature, will receive Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ; 22c Besides what hope the never-ending flight Of future days may bring, what chance, what change Worth waiting — since our present lot appears For happy though but ill, for ill not worst, If we procure not to ourselves more woe." Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb, Counselled ignoble ease and peaceful sloth, Not peace ; and after him thus Mammon * spake : — " Either to disenthrone the King of Heaven We war, if war be best, or to regain 23c 15. * I. 678. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 135 Oiir own right lost. Him to unthrone we then May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife. The former, vain to hope, argues as vain The latter ; for what place can be for us Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord Supreme We overpower? Suppose he should relent, And publish grace to all, on promise made Of new subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive 240 Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forced Halleluiahs, while he lordly sits Our envied sovran, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers. Our servile offerings ? ^ This must be our task In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome Eternity so spent in worship paid To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue. By force impossible, by leave obtained 250 Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek Our own good from ourselves, and from our own Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess. Free and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easy yoke Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, ^ 72, 73- 136 PARADISE LOST. [Book II, We can create, and in what place soe'er 260 Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labour and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne, from whence deep thunders roar, • Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell ! ^ As He our darkness, cannot we His Hght Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 270 Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold ; Nor want we skill or art from whence to raise Magnificence ; and what can Heaven show more ? Our torments also may, in length of time. Become our elements,- these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper ; which must needs remove The sensible of pain. All things invite To peaceful counsels, and the settled state Of order, how in safety best we may 280 Compose our present evils, with regard Of what we are and where, dismissing quite All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise." He scarce had finished, when such murmur filled The assembly as when hollow rocks retain The sound of blustering winds, which all night long Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull Seafaring men o'erwatched, whose bark by chance, ^73. U- Book II.] PARADISE LOST. lyj Or pinnace, anchors in a craggy bay After the tempest. Such applause was heard 290 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, Advising peace : for such another field They dreaded worse than Hell ; so much the fear Of thunder and the sword of Michael * Wrought still within them ; and no less desire To found this nether empire, which might rise. By policy and long process of time, In emulation opposite to Heaven. Which when Beelzebub perceived — than whom, Satan except, none higher sat — with grave 300 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed A pillar of state. Deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat, and public care ; And princely counsel in his face yet shone. Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood, With Atlantean ^ shoulders, fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake : — " Thrones and Imperial Powers, Offspring of Heaven, 310 Ethereal Virtues ! or these titles now ISIust we renounce, and, changing style, be called Princes of Hell ? for so the popular vote Inclines — here to continue, and build up here A growing empire ; doubtless ! while we dream, And know not that the King of Heaven hath doomed This place our dungeon — not our safe retreat 1 61. * VI. 250. 138 PARADISE LOST. [Book 11. Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt From Heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league Banded against his throne, but to remain 320 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed. Under the inevitable curb, reserved His captive multitude. For He, be sure. In highth or depth, still first and last will reign Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part By our revolt, but over Hell extend His empire, and with iron sceptre rule Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven. What sit we then projecting peace and war? War hath determined us and foiled with loss 330 Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none Voutsafed or sought ; for what peace will be given To us enslaved, but custody severe, And stripes and arbitrary punishment Inflicted? and what peace can we return. But, to our power, hostility and hate, Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow, Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice In doing what we most in suffering feel? 340 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need With dangerous expedition to invade Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find Some easier enterprise? There is a place (If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven Err not)* — another World, the happy seat * I. 650. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 139 Of some new race, called Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less In power and excellence, but favoured more 350 Of Him who rules above ; so was His will Pronounced among the gods, and by an oath That shook Heaven's whole circumference confirmed. Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould Or substance, how endued, and what their power And where their weakness : how attempted best, By force or subtlety. Though Heaven be shut, And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, 360 The utmost border of his kingdom, left To their defence who hold it : here, perhaps, Some advantageous act may be achieved By sudden onset — either with Hell-fire To waste his whole creation, or possess All as our own, and drive, as we are driven, The puny habitants ; or, if not drive, Seduce them to our party, that their God x\Iay prove their foe, and with repenting hand Abolish his own works. This would surpass 370 Common revenge, and interrupt His joy In our confusion, and our joy upraise In His disturbance ; when his darling sons, Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall curse Their frail original, and faded bliss — Faded so soon ! Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain empires." Thus Beelzebub I40 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Pleaded his devilish counsel — first devised By Satan, and in part proposed : for whence, 380 But from the author of all ill, could spring So deep a malice, to confound the race Of mankind in one root, and Earth with Hell To mingle and involve, done all to spite The great Creator? But their spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleased highly those Infernal States, and joy Sparkled in all their eyes : with full assent They vote : whereat his speech he thus renews : — " Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 390 Synod of Gods, and, like to what ye are. Great things resolved, which from the lowest deep Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate, Nearer our ancient seat — perhaps in view Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbouring arms, And opportune excursion, we may chance -Re-enter Heaven ; or else in some mild zone Dwell, not unvisited of Heaven's fair light. Secure, and at the brightening orient beam Purge off this gloom : the soft delicious air,* 400 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires. Shall breathe her balm. But, first, whom shall we send In search of this new World ? whom shall we find Sufficient? who shall tempt with wandering feet The dark, unbottomed, infinite Abyss, And through the palpable obscure find out His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight, * II. 842. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 141 Upborne with indefatigable wings Over the vast Abrupt, ere he arrive The happy Isle? What strength, what art, can then 410 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe '^ Through the strict senteries and stations thick Of Angels watching round ? Here he had need All circumspection : and we now no less Choice in our suffrage ; for on whom we send The weight of all, and our last hope, relies." This said, he sat ; and expectation held His look suspense, awaiting who appeared To second, or oppose, or undertake The perilous attempt. But all sat mute, 420 Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each In other's countenance read his own dismay, Astonished. None among the choice and prime Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found So hardy as to proffer or accept. Alone, the dreadful voyage ; till, at last, Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised Above his fellows, with monarchal pride Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake : — " O Progeny of Heaven ! Empyreal Thrones ! 430 With reason hath deep silence and demur Seized us, though undismayed. Long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light. Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire. Outrageous to devour, immures us round* Ninefold ; and gates of burning adamant, * II. 644+. 142 PARADISE LOST. [Book 11. Barred over us, prohibit all egress. These passed, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential Night receives him next. Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being 440 Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gulf.* If thence he scape, into whatever world, Or unknown region, what remains him less Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? But I should ill become this throne, O Peers, And this imperial sovranty, adorned With splendour, armed with power, if aught proposed And judged of pubhc moment in the shape Of difficulty or danger, could deter Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 450 These royalties, and not refuse to reign. Refusing to accept as great a share Of hazard as of honour, due alike To him who reigns, and so much to him due Of hazard more as he above the rest High honoured sits? Go, therefore, mighty Powers, Terror of Heaven, though fallen ; intend at home. While here shall be our home, what best may ease The present misery, and render Hell More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 460 To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain Of this ill mansion : intermit no watch Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek Deliverance for us all. This enterprise * II. 912 +. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 143 None shall partake with me." Thus saying, rose The Monarch, and prevented all reply ; Prudent lest, from his resolution raised, Others among the chief might offer now, Certain to be refused, what erst they feared, 470 And, so refused, might in opinion stand His rivals, winning cheap the high repute Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they Dreaded not more the adventure than his voice Forbidding ; and at once with him they rose. Their rising all at once was as the sound Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend With awful reverence prone, and as a God Extol him equal to the Highest in Heaven. Nor failed they to express how much they praised 480 That for the general safety he despised His own : for neither do the Spirits damned Lose all their virtue ; lest bad men should boast Their specious deeds on earth, which glory excites. Or close ambition varnished o'er with zeal. Thus they their doubtful consultations dark Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief: As, when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds Ascending, while the North-wind sleeps, o'erspread Heaven's cheerful face, the lowering element ^ 490 Scowls o'er the darkened landscape snow or shower. If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet, Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds U- 144 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. O shame to men ! Devil with devil damned Firm concord holds ; men only disagree Of creatures rational, though under hope Of heavenly grace, and, God proclaiming peace. Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 500 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars Wasting the earth, each other to destroy : As if (which might induce us to accord) Man had not hellish foes enow besides. That day and night for his destruction wait ! The Stygian council thus dissolved ; and forth In order came the grand Infernal Peers : Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seemed Alone the antagonist of Heaven, nor less Than Hell's dread Emperor, with pomp supreme, 510 And god- like imitated state : him round A globe of fiery Seraphim enclosed With bright emblazonry, and horrent arms. Then of their session ended they bid cry With trumpet's regal sound the great result : Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy. By harald's voice explained ; the hollow Abyss Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim. 520 Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers Disband ; and, wandering, each his several way Pursues, as inclination or sad choice Leads him perplexed, where he may likeliest find Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 145 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain The irksome hours, till his great Chief return. Part on the plain, or in the air sublime. Upon the wing or in swift race contend, As at the Olympian ^ games or Pythian- fields ; 530 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal With rapid wheels, or fronted brigads form : xA.s when, to warn proud cities, war appears Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush To battle in the clouds ; " before each van Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears, Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms From either end of heaven the welkin burns. Others, with vast Typhoean * rage, more fell. Rend up both rocks and hills,* and ride the air 540 In whirlwind ; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar : — As when Alcides, from Qichalia crowned With conquest, felt the envenomed robe,' and tore Through pain up by the roots Thessalian pines. And Lichas from the top of CEta threw Into the Euboic sea. Others, more mild. Retreated in a silent valley, sing With notes angelical to many a harp Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall By doom of battle, and complain that Fate 550 Free Virtue should enthrall to Force or Chance. Their song was partial ; but the harmony (What could it less when Spirits immortal sing?) Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment ^34- -39. ^15- ^32. ^63. * VI. 643 + . L 146 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet (For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense) Others apart sat on a hill retired, ■^n thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high Of Providence, Foreknowledge,^ Will, and Fate — Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute — 560 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. Of good and evil much they argued then, Of happiness and final misery. Passion and apathy,- and glory and shame : Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy ! — Yet, with a pleasing sorcery, could charm Pain for a while or anguish, and excite Fallacious hope, or arm the obdured breast With stubborn patience as with triple steel. Another part, in squadrons and gross bands 570 On bold adventure to discover wide That dismal world, if any clime perhaps Might yield them easier habitation, bend Four ways their flying march, along the banks Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge Into the burning lake their baleful streams — Abhorred Styx,'^ the flood of deadly hate ; Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep ; Cocytus, named of lamentation loud Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegeton, 580 Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 1 97, 98. 2 See Glossary — " Stoic." ^ 23. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 147 Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks Forthwith his former state and being forgets — Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. Beyond this flood a frozen continent ^ Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems 590 Of ancient pile ; all else deep snow and ice, A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog ^ Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, Where armies whole have sunk : the parching air Burns frore, and cold performs the effect of fire. Thither, by harpy --footed Furies - haled, At certain revolutions all the damned Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce. From beds of raging fire to starve in ice 600 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immovable, infixed, and frozen round Periods of time, — thence hurried back to fire. They ferry over this Lethean sound Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment. And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, All in one moment, and so near the brink ; But P'ate withstands, and, to oppose the attempt, 610 Medusa^ with Gorgonian terror guards The ford, and of itself the water flies i See map, p. 88. ^ 52. 148 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. All taste of living wight, as once it fled The lip of Tantalus.^ Thus roving on In confused march forlorn, the adventrous bands, With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast. Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale They passed, and many a region dolorous. O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 620 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death — A universe of death, which God by curse Created evil, for evil only good ; Where all life dies, death lives, and Nature breeds. Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things. Abominable, inutterable, and worse Than fables yet have feigned or fear conceived, Gorgons,'' and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire. Meanwhile the Adversary of God and Man, Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 630 Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of Hell Explores his solitary flight : sometimes He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left ; Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars Up to the fiery concave towering high. As when far off at sea a fleet descried Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds ^ Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Their spicy drugs ; they on the trading flood, 640 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 24. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 149 Ply stemming nightly toward the pole : so seemed Far off the flying Fiend. At last appear Hell-bomids, high reaching to the horrid roof, And thrice threefold the gates ; three folds were brass, Three iron, three of adamantine rock, Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire. Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat On either side a formidable Shape. The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, 650 But ended foul in many a scaly fold, Voluminous and vast — a serpent armed With mortal sting. About her middle round A cry of Hell-hounds never-ceasing barked With wide Cerberean ^ mouths full loud, and rung A hideous peal ; yet, when they hst, would creep. If aught disturbed their noise, into her womb, And kennel there ; yet there still barked and howled Within unseen. Far less abhorred than these Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 660 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore ; ^ Nor uglier follow the night-hag," when, called In secret, riding through the air she comes. Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance With Lapland witches, while the labouring moon * EcKpses at their charms. The other Shape — If shape it might be called that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; Or substance might be called that shadow seemed. For each seemed either — black it stood as Night, 670 1 23. 2 69. 3 j8^ 19. * I, 784. I50 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Fierce as ten Furies/ terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful dart : what seemed his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat The monster moving onward came as fast With horrid strides ; Hell trembled as he strode. The undaunted Fiend what this might be admired — Admired, not feared (God and his Son except, Created thing naught valued he nor shunned). And with disdainful look thus first began : — 680 " Whence and what art thou, execrable Shape, That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance Thy miscreated front athwart my way To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass, That be assured, without leave asked of thee. Retire ; or taste thy folly, and learn by proof. Hell-born, not to contend with Spirits of Heaven." To whom the Goblin, full of wrath, replied : — " Art thou that Traitor- Angel, art thou he, Who first broke peace in Heaven and faith, till then 690 Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms Drew after him the third part of Heaven's sons, Conjured against the Highest — for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemned To waste eternal days in woe and pain? And reckon'st thou thyself with Spirits of Heaven, Hell-doomed, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more. Thy king and lord ! Back to thy punishment, 52- Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 151 False fugitive ; and to thy speed add wings, 700 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before." So spake the grisly Terror, and in shape. So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold More dreadful and deform. On the other side, Incensed with indignation,* Satan stood Unterrified, and like a comet burned, That fires the length of Ophiuchus ^ huge In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 710 Shakes pestilence and war.^ Each at the head Levelled his deadly aim ; their fatal hands No second stroke intend ; and such a frown Each cast at the other as when two black clouds. With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian,^ — then stand front to front Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow To join their dark encounter in mid-air. So frowned the mighty combatants that Hell Grew darker at their frown ; so matched they stood ; 720 For never but once more was either like To meet so great a foe. And now great deeds Had been achieved, whereof all Hell had rung. Had not the snaky Sorceress, that sat Fast by Hell-gate and kept the fatal key. Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. " O father, what intends thy hand," she cried, " Against thy only son ? What fury, O son, 1 12. 2 i^^ 8 ^2. ♦ VL 310-1-. 152 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart Against thy father's head ? And know'st for whom ? 730 For Him who sits above, and laughs the while At thee, ordained his drudge to execute What'er his wrath, which He calls justice, bids — His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both ! " She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest Forbore : then these to her Satan returned : — " So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds What it intends, till first I know of thee 740 What thing thou art, thus double- formed, and why, In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son. I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable than him and thee." To whom thus the Portress of Het^-gate replied : — " Hast thou forgot me, then ; and do I seem Now in thine eye so foul ? — once deemed so fair In Heaven, when at the assembly, and in sight Of all the Seraphim with thee combined 750 In bold conspiracy against Heaven's King, All on a sudden miserable pain Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast Threw forth, till on the left side opening wide, Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed. Out of thy head I sprung. Amazement seized All the host of Heaven ; back they recoiled afraid Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 153 At first, and called me Sin, and for a sign 760 Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, I pleased, and with attractive graces won The most averse — thee chiefly, who, full oft Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing, Becam'st enamoured ; and such joy thou took'st With me in secret that my womb conceived A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose. And fields were fought in Heaven : wherein remained (For what could else?) to our Almighty Foe Clear victory ] to our part loss and rout 770 Through all the Empyrean.^ Down they fell, Driven headlong from the pitch of Heaven, down Into this Deep ; and in the general fall I also : at which time this powerful key Into my hands was given, with charge to keep These gates for ever shut, which none can pass Without my opening. Pensive here I sat Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb, Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown. Prodigious motion felt and rueful throes. 780 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest. Thine own begotten, breaking violent way, Tore through my entrails, that, with fear and pain Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew Transformed : but he my inbred enemy Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart, Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out Death ! Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed ^5- 154 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. From all her caves, and back resounded Death ! I fled ; but he pursued (though more, it seems, 790 Inflamed with lust than rage), and, swifter far, Me overtook, his mother, all dismayed. And, in embraces forcible and foul Engendering with me, of that rape begot These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry Surround me, as thou saw'st — hourly conceived And hourly born, with sorrow infinite To me : for, when they list, into the womb That bred them they return, and howl, and gnaw My bowels, their repast ; then, bursting forth 800 Afresh, with conscious terrors vex me round, That rest or intermission none I find. Before mine eyes in opposition sits Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on. And me, his parent, would full soon devour For want of other prey, but that he knows His end with mine involved, and knows that I Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane. Whenever that shall be : so Fate pronounced. But thou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun 810 His deadly arrow ; neither vainly hope To be invulnerable in those bright arms, Though tempered heavenly : for that mortal dint, Save He who reigns above, none can resist." She finished ; and the subtle Fiend his lore Soon learned, now milder, and thus answered smooth : — "Dear daughter — since thou claim'st me for thy sire, And my fair son here show'st me, the dear pledge Of dalliance had with thee in Heaven, and joys Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 155 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change S20 Befallen us unforeseen, unthought-of — know, I come no enemy, but to set free From out this dark and dismal house of pain Both him and thee, and all the Heavenly host Of Spirits that, in our just pretences armed, Fell with us from on high. From them I go This uncouth errand sole, and one for all Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread The unfounded Deep, and through the void immense To search, with wandering quest, a place foretold 830 Should be — and, by concurring signs, ere now Created vast and round — a place of bliss In the purheus of Heaven ; and therein placed A race of upstart creatures, to supply Perhaps our vacant room, though more removed. Lest Heaven, surcharged with potent multitude. Might hap to move new broils. Be this, or aught Than this more secret, now designed, I haste To know ; and, this once known, shall soon return. And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 840 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen Wing silently the buxom air, embalmed * With odours. There ye shall be fed and filled Immeasurably ; all things shall be your prey." He ceased ; for both seemed highly pleased, and Death Grinned horrible a ghasdy smile, to hear His famine should be filled, and blessed his maw Destined to that good hour. No less rejoiced *II. 400 + . 156 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. His mother bad, and thus bespake her sire : — " The key of this infernal Pit, by due 850 And by command of Heaven's all-powerful King, I keep, by Him forbidden to unlock These adamantine gates ; against all force Death ready stands to interpose his dart, Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might. But what owe I to His commands above. Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down Into this gloom of Tartarus ^ profound. To sit in hateful office here confined. Inhabitant of Heaven and heavenly-born — 860 Here in perpetual agony and pain, With terrors and with clamours compassed round Of mine own brood, that on my bowels feed ? Thou art my father, thou my author, thou My being gav'st me ; whom should I obey But thee ? whom follow ? Thou wilt bring me soon To that new world of light and bliss, among The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems Thy daughter and thy darling, without end." 870 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key. Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train, Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, Which, but herself, not all the Stygian Powers Could once have moved ; then in the key-hole turns The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 22. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 157 Of massy iron or solid rock with ease Unfastens. On a sudden open fly,* With impetuous recoil and jarring sound, 880 The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook Of Erebus.^ She opened ; but to shut Excelled her power : the gates wide open stood, That with extended wings a bannered host. Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through With horse and chariots ranked in loose array ; So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. Before their eyes in sudden view appear 8go The secrets of the hoary Deep — a dark Illimitable ocean, without bound. Without dimension ; where length, breadth, and highth, And time, and place, are lost ; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature,- hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce. Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring Their embryon atoms : they around the flag 900 Of each his faction, in their several clans. Light-armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow. Swam populous, unnumbered as the sands Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil. Levied to side with warring wings, and poise Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere 1 22. - 76, 4. * VIL 205 +. 158 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. He rules a moment : Chaos umpire sits, And by decision more embroils the fray By which he reigns : next him, high arbiter, Chance gov^erns all. Into this wild Abyss, 910 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave. Of neither Sea, nor Shore, nor Air, nor Fire,* But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds — Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while,t Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed 920 With noises loud and ruinous (to compare Great things with small) than when Bellona storms With all her battering engines, bent to rase Some capital city ; or less than if this frame ^ Of heaven were falling, and these elements^ In mutiny had from her axle torn The steadfast Earth. At last his sail-broad vans He spreads for flight, and, in the surging smoke Uplifted, spurns the ground; thence many a league, As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides 930 Audacious ; but, that seat soon faihng, meets A vast vacuity. All unawares. Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb-down he drops Ten thousand fathom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not, by ill chance. * III. 715. t VII. 210. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 159 The strong rebuff" of some tumultuous cloud, Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him As many miles aloft. That fury stayed — Quenched in a boggy Syrtis, neither sea, Nor good dry land — nigh foundered, on he fares, 940 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. As when a gryphon through the wilderness With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth Had from his wakeful custody purloined The guarded gold ; ^ so eagerly the Fiend O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare. With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies. 950 At length a universal hubbub wild Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused, Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear With loudest vehemence. Thither he phes Undaunted, to meet there whatever Power Or Spirit of the nethermost Abyss Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies Bordering on hght ; when straight behold the throne Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 960 Wide on the wasteful Deep ! With him enthroned Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things. The consort of his reign ; and by them stood Orcus - and Ades,^ and the dreaded name 1 56. ■' 23. i6o PARADISE LOST. [Book II Of Demogorgon ; ^ Rumour next, and Chance, And Tumult, and Confusion, all embroiled. And Discord with a thousand various mouths. To whom Satan, turning boldly, thus : — " Ye Powers And Spirits of this nethermost Abyss, Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy 970 With purpose to explore or to disturb The secrets of your realm ; but, by constraint Wandering this darksome desert, as my way Lies through your spacious empire up to light. Alone and without guide, half lost, I seek What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds Confine with Heaven ; or, if some other place. From your dominion won, the Ethereal King Possesses lately, thither to arrive I travel this profound. Direct my course : 980 Directed, no mean recompense it brings To your behoof, if I that region lost, All usurpation thence expelled, reduce To her original darkness and your sway (Which is my present journey), and once more Erect the standard there of ancient Night. Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge ! " Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old. With faltering speech and visage incomposed. Answered : — "I know thee, stranger, who thou art — 990 That mighty leading Angel, who of late Made head against Heaven's King,* though over- thrown. 1 Glossary. * L 131. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 161 I saw and heard ; for such a numerous host Fled not in silence through the frighted Deep,* With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded ; and Heaven-gates Poured out by millions her victorious bands. Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here Keep residence ; if all I can will serve That little which is left so to defend, ioo< Encroached on still through our intestine broils Weakening the sceptre of old Night : first, Hell, Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath ; Now lately heaven and earth, another world Hung o'er my realm, f linked in a golden chain To that side Heaven from whence your legions fell ! If that way be your walk, you have not far ; So much the nearer danger. Go, and speed ; Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain." He ceased ; and Satan staid not to reply, iok But, glad that now his sea should find a shore, With fresh alacrity and force renewed Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire. Into the wild expanse, and through the shock Of fighting elements,^ on all sides round Environed, wins his way ; harder beset And more endangered than when Argo ^ passed Through Bosporus betwixt the justling rocks, Or when Ulysses " on the larboard shunned Charybdis, and by the other Whirlpool steered. io2( So he with difficulty and labour hard I4. 2 57>58. ^65,69. * VI. 871. 111.1051. M i62 PARADISE LOST. [Book II. Moved on. With difficulty and labour he ; But, he once passed, soon after, when Man fell. Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain, Following his track (such was the will of Heaven) Paved after him a broad and beaten way Over the dark Abyss, whose boiling gulf Tamely endured a bridge of wondrous length, From Hell continued, reaching the utmost Orb ^ Of this frail World ; by which the Spirits perverse 1030 With easy intercourse pass to and fro To tempt or punish mortals, except whom God and good Angels guard by special grace. But now at last the sacred influence Of light appears, and from the walls of Heaven Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night A glimmering dawn. Here Nature first begins Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire. As from her outmost works, a broken foe, With tumult less and with less hostile din ; 1040 That Satan with less toil, and now with ease. Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light. And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; Or in the emptier waste, resembling air, Weighs his spread wings, at leisure to behold Far off the empyreal Heaven, extended wide In circuit, undetermined square or round. With opal towers and battlements adorned Of living sapphire, once his native seat, 1050 1 8-10. Book II.] PARADISE LOST. 163 And, fast by, hanging in a golden chain,* This pendent World, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. Thither, full fraught with mischievous revenge, Accurst, and in a cursed hour, he hies. * II. 1005. PARADISE LOST. BOOK III. (1-76, 416-742.) THE ARGUMENT. God, sitting on his throne, sees Satan flying towards this World, then newly created ; shows him to the Son, who sat at his right hand ; foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind ; clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created Man free, and able enough to have withstood his Tempter ; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his own malice, as did Satan, but by him seduced. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious purpose towards Man : but God again declares that grace cannot be extended towards Man with- out the satisfaction of Divine Justice ; Man hath offended the majesty of God by aspiring to Godhead, and therefore, with all his progeny devoted to death, must die, unless some one can be found sufficient to answer for his offence, and undergo his punishment. The Son of God freely offers himself a ransom for Man : the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names in Heaven and Earth ; commands all the Angels to adore him. They obey, and, hymning to their harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare convex of this World's outer- most orb ; where wandering he first finds a place since called the Limbo of Vanity; what persons and things fly up thither: thence comes to the gate of Heaven, described ascending by stairs, and the waters above the firmament that flow about it. His passage thence to the orb of the Sun : he finds there Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first changes him- self into the shape of a meaner Angel, and, pretending a zealous desire to behold the new Creation, and Man whom God had placed here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed : Alights first on Mount Niphates. i66 Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 167 BOOK III. (1-76, 416-742.) Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born ! ^ Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee iinblaraed? since God is light, And never but in unapproached light Dwelt from eternity — dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence increate ! Or hear'st thou rather pure ethereal stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the Sun,* Before the Heavens, thou wert, and at the voice Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest The rising World of waters dark and deep. Won from the void and formless Infinite ! Thee I revisit now with bolder wing. Escaped the Stygian Pool, though long detained In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight. Through utter and through middle Darkness borne, With other notes than to the Orphean ^ lyre I sung of Chaos and eternal Night, Taught by the Heavenly Muse t to venture down The dark descent, and up to re-ascend. Though hard and rare. Thee I revisit safe, And feel thy sovran vital lamp ; but thou Revisit'st not these eyes,^ that roll in vain ^ 77. 2 42. 3 gge Biographical Outline, 1653. * VII. 243+. t L 6. i68 PARADISE LOST. [Book III. To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; So thick a drop serene ^ hath quenched their orbs, Or dim snff'usion ^ veiled. Yet not the more Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill,- Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks * beneath, 30 That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow. Nightly I visit : nor sometimes forget Those other two equalled with me in fate, So were I equalled with them in renown, BHnd Thamyris ^ and blind Maeonides," And Tiresias ^ and Phineus,'^ prophets old : Then feed on thoughts that voluntary move Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird Sings darkhng, and, in shadiest covert hid. Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 40 Seasons return ; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn. Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose. Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and, for the book of knowledge fair, Presented with a universal blank Of Nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 50 So much the rather thou. Celestial Light, 1 See Glossary — " Gutta serena." 2 ^^^ 3 gee Glossary. * I. 10. Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 169 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers Irradiate ; there plant eyes ; all mist from thence ■ Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight. Now had the Almighty Father from above, From the pure Empyrean where He sits High throned above all highth, bent down his eye, His own works and their works at once to view : About him all the Sanctities of Heaven 60 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received Beatitude past utterance ; on his right The radiant image of his glory sat. His only Son. On Earth he first beheld Our two first parents, yet the only two Of mankind, in the Happy Garden placed, Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love. Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love. In blissful solitude. He then surveyed Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 70 Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night, In the dun air subhme, and ready now To stoop, with wearied wings and willing feet, On the bare outside of this World, that seemed Firm land imbosomed without firmament,^ Uncertain which, in ocean or in air * ***** **** [Here ensues a dialogue between God and his Son, regarding Man's responsibility for the sin that it is foreseen he will commit, and the Son's offered atonement (see 97, 98). The angels hymn the praises of God and his Son for their mercy towards Man.] * 9. * II. 1045. 176 PARADISE LOST. [Book Hi. Thus they in Heaven, above the Starry Sphere, Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. Meanwhile, upon the firm opacous globe Of this round World, whose first convex ^ divides The luminous inferior Orbs, enclosed 420 From Chaos and the inroad of Darkness old, Satan alighted walks. A globe far off It seemed ; now seems a boundless eontinent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of Night Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky, Save on that side whicli from the wall of Heaven, Though distant far, some small reflection gains Of glimmering air less vexed with tempest loud. Here walked the Fiend at large in spacious field. 430 As when a vulture, on Imaus bred. Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a region scarce of prey, To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams. But in his way lights on the barren plains Of Sericana,- where Chineses drive With sails and wind their cany waggons light ; So, on this windy sea of land, the Fiend 440 Walked up and down alone, bent on his prey : Alone, for other creature in this place. Living or lifeless, to be found was none ; — None yet ; but store hereafter from the Earth 1 8-10. 2 56. i Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 171 Up hither like aerial vapors flew Of all things transitory and vain, when sin With vanity had filled the works of men — Both all things vain, and all who in vain things Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, Or happiness in this or the other life. 450 All who have their reward on earth, the fruits Of painful superstition and blind zeal, Naught seeking but the praise of men, here find Fit retribution, empty as their deeds; All the unaccomplished works of Nature's hand. Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed. Dissolved on Earth, fleet hither, and in vain, Till final dissolution, wander here — Not in the neighbouring Moon, as some have dreamed : Those argent fields more likely habitants, 460 Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold. Betwixt the angelical and human kind. Hither, of ill-joined sons and daughters born. First from the ancient world those Giants came, With many a vain exploit, though then renowned : The builders next of Babel ^ on the plain Of Sennaar, and still with vain design New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build : Others came single ; he who, to be deemed A god, leaped fondly into ^tna flames, 470 Empedocles ; and he who, to enjoy Plato's Elysium,- leaped into the sea, Cleombrotus ; and many more, too long, ^ See Glossary, and 56. ^ 23. 172 PARADISE LOST. [Book III. Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery. Here pilgrims roamed, that strayed so far to seek In Golgotha him dead who lives in Heaven ; And they who, to be sure of Paradise, Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised. 480 They pass the planets seven,^ and pass the fixed, And that crystalline sphere whose balance weighs The trepidation talked, and that first moved ; And now Saint Peter at Heaven's wicket - seems To wait them with his keys, and now at foot Of Heaven's ascent they Hft their feet, when, lo ! A violent cross wind from either coast Blows them transverse, ten thousand leagues awry, Into the devious air. Then might ye see Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost 490 And fluttered into rags ; then reliques, beads. Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, The sport of winds : all these, upwhirled aloft, Fly o'er the backside of the World far off Into a Limbo large and broad, since called The Paradise of Fools ; to few unknown Long after, now unpeopled and untrod. All this dark globe the Fiend found as he passed ; And long he wandered, till at last a gleam Of dawning light turned thitherward in haste 500 His travelled steps. Far distant he descries, Ascending by degrees magnificent 1 8-12. - 89, foot-note. Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 173 Up to the wall of Heaven, a structure high ; At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared The work as of a kingly palace-gate. With frontispiece of diamond and gold Embellished ; thick with sparkling orient gems The portal shone, inimitable on Earth By model, or by shading pencil drawn. The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 510 Angels ascending and descending, bands Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz ^ Dreaming by night under the open sky, And waking cried, " This is the gate of Heaven." Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood There always, but drawn up to Heaven sometimes Viewless ; and underneath a bright sea flowed Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon Who after came from Earth saihng arrived 520 Wafted by i\ngels, or flew o'er the lake Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. The stairs were then let down, whether to dare The Fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss : Direct against which opened from beneath, Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, A passage down to the Earth — a passage wide ; Wider by far than that of after-times Over Mount Sion, and, though that were large, 530 Over the Promised Land - to God so dear, 1 82 and map, p. 87. - 81, 83. 174 PARADISE LOST. [Book 111. By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, On high behests his Angels to and fro Passed frequent, and his eye with choice regard From Paneas,^ the fount of Jordan's flood, To Beersaba,^ where the Holy Land Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore. So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were set To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. Satan from hence, now on the lower stair, 540 That scaled by steps of gold to Heaven-gate, Looks down with wonder at the sudden view Of all this World at once. As when a scout, Through dark and desert ways with peril gone All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, Which to his eye discovers unaware The goodly prospect of some foreign land First seen, or some renowned metropolis With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned, 550 Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams ; Such wonder seized, though after Heaven seen. The Spirit malign, but much more envy seized, At sight of all this World beheld so fair. Round he surveys (and well might, where he stood So high above the circling canopy Of Night's extended shade) from eastern point Of Libra ^ to the fleecy star that bears Andromeda - far off Atlantic seas Beyond the horizon ; then from pole to pole 560 1 See map, p. 87. 2 12, Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 175 He views in breadth, — and, without longer pause, Down right into the World's first region throws His flight precipitant, and winds with ease Through the pure marble air * his oblique way Amongst innumerable stars,! that shone Stars distant, but nigh-hand seemed other worlds. Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles, Like those Hesperian Gardens ^ famed of old, Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales ; Thrice happy isles ! But who dwelt happy there 570 He staid not to inquire : above them all The golden Sun, in splendour Hkest Heaven, Allured his eye. Thither his course he bends, Through the calm firmament* (but up or down, By centre or eccentric,- hard to tell. Or longitude) where the great luminary. Aloof the vulgar constellations ^ thick, That from his lordly eye keep distance due. Dispenses light from far. They, as they move Their starry dance in numbers that compute 580 Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering lamp Turn swift their various motions, or are turned By his magnetic beam,"* that gently warms The Universe, and to each inward part With gentle penetration, though unseen, Shoots invisible virtue I even to the Deep ; So wondrously was set his station bright. There lands the Fiend, a spot like which perhaps 161. 29. 3 8. 4 I-. *vn. 264+. t VII. 348. : VII. 364+. 176 PARADISE LOST. [Book III. Astronomer in the Sun's lucent orb Through his glazed optic tube * yet never saw. 590 The place he found beyond expression bright, Compared with aught on Earth, metal or stone — Not all parts like, but all alike informed With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire. If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear ; If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite. Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone In Aaron's breast-plate,^ and a stone besides. Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen — That stone, or like to that, which here below 600 Philosophers in vain so long have sought ;^ In vain, though by their powerful art they bind Volatile Hermes,"^ and call up unbound In various shapes old Proteus ^ from the sea, Drained through a hmbec to his native form. What wonder then if fields and regions here Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run Potable gold,- when, with one virtuous touch, The arch-chemic Sun, so far from us remote. Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed, 610 Here in the dark so many precious things Of colour glorious and effect so rare ? Here matter new to gaze the Devil met Undazzled. Far and wide his eye commands ; For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade. But all sunshine, as when his beams at noon Culminate from the equator, as they now i 89. -^ 6. 37. 4 50. ♦ I. 288. Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 177 Shot upward still direct, whence no way round Shadow from body opaque can fall ; and the air, Nowhere so clear, sharpened his visual ray 620 To objects distant far, whereby he soon Saw within ken a glorious Angel stand, The same whom John saw also in the Sun.^ His back was turned, but not his brightness hid ; Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar Circled his head, nor less his locks behind Illustrious on his shoulders fledge with wings Lay waving round ; on some great charge employed He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep. Glad was the Spirit impure, as now in hope 630 To find who might direct his wandering flight To Paradise, the happy seat of Man, His journey's end, and our beginning woe. But first he casts to change his proper shape. Which else might work him danger or delay : And now a stripling Cherub he appears. Not of the prime, yet such as in his face Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb Suitable grace diffused ; so w^ell he feigned. Under a coronet his flowing hair 640 In curls on either cheek played ; wings he wore Of many a coloured plume sprinkled with gold, His habit fit for speed succinct, and held Before his decent steps a silver wand. He drew not nigh unheard ; the Angel bright. Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned, ^ Revelation xix. 17- 178 PARADISE LOST. [Book 111. Admonished by his ear, and straight was known The Archangel Uriel — one of the seven Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, Stand ready in command, and are his eyes 650 That run through all the Heavens, or down to the Earth Bear his swift errands over moist and dry. O'er sea and land.^ Him Satan thus accosts : — " Uriel ! for thou of those seven Spirits that stand In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright. The first art wont his great authentic will Interpreter through highest Heaven to bring, Where all his Sons thy embassy attend. And here art Hkeliest by supreme decree Like honour to obtain, and as his eye 660 To visit oft his new Creation round — Unspeakable desire to see and know All these his wondrous works, but chiefly Man, His chief delight and favour, him for whom All these his works so wondrous he ordained. Hath brought me from the quires of Cherubim Alone thus wandering. Brightest Seraph, tell In which of all these shining orbs hath Man His fixed seat — or fixed seat hath none. But all these shining orbs his choice to dwell — 670 That I may find him, and with secret gaze Or open admiration him behold On whom the great Creator hath bestowed Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces poured ; That both in him and all things, as is meet. 1 72. Book III.] PARADISE LOST. 179 The Universal Maker we may praise ; Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes To deepest Hell, and, to repair that loss, Created this new happy race of Men To serve him better : wise are all his ways ! " 680 So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; For neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy — the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone. By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth ; And oft, though Wisdom wake, Suspicion sleeps At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems : which now for once beguiled Uriel, though Regent of the Sun, and held 690 The sharpest-sighted Spirit of all in Heaven ; Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, In his uprightness, answer thus returned : — " Fair Angel, thy desire, which tends to know The works of God, thereby to glorify The great Work-master, leads to no excess That reaches blame, but rather merits praise The more it seems excess, that led thee hither From thy empyreal mansion thus alone. To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps, 700 Contented with report, hear only in Heaven : For wonderful indeed are all his works, Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all Had in remembrance always with delight ! But what created mind can comprehend Their number, or the wisdom infinite i8o PARADISE LOST. [Book III. That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep? I saw when, at his word,* the formless mass, This World's material mould, came to a heap : Confusion heard his voice, and wild Uproar 710 Stood ruled, stood vast Infinitude confined ; Till, at his second bidding, Darkness fled, Light shone, f and order from disorder sprung. Swift to their several quarters hasted then The cumbrous elements — Earth, Flood, Air, Fire ; j And this ethereal quintessence ^ of Heaven Flew upward, spirited with various forms, That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars Numberless as thou seest, and how they move : Each had his place appointed, each his course ; 720 The rest in circuit walls this Universe. Look downward on that globe, whose hither side With light from hence, though but reflected, shines : That place is Earth, the seat of Man ; that light His day, which else, as the other hemisphere, Night would invade ; but there the neighbouring Moon § (So call that opposite fair star) her aid Timely interposes, and, her monthly round Still ending, still renewing, through mid-heaven, With borrowed light ^ her countenance triform 730 Hence fills and empties, to enlighten the Earth, And in her pale dominion checks the night. That spot to which I point is Paradise, Adam's abode ; those lofty shades his bower. * VII. 216. fvn. 243. I iL 912. §vn. 375+. Book III.] PARADISE LOST. i8i Thy way thou canst not miss ; me mine requires." Thus said, he turned ; and Satan, bowing low, As to superior Spirits is wont in Heaven, Where honour due and reverence none neglects, Took leave, and toward the coast of Earth beneath, Down from the ecliptic,^ sped with hoped success, 740 Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel. Nor staid till on Niphates' top he lights. 1 9, note ; 1 1. PARADISE LOST. BOOK IV. THE ARGUMENT. Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone against God and Man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions — fear, envy, and despair; but at length confirms himself in evil ; journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation is described ; overleaps the bounds ; sits, in the shape of a cormorant, on the Tree of Life, as highest in the Garden, to look about him. The Garden de- scribed ; Satan's first sight of Adam and Eve ; his wonder at their ex- cellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall ; overhears their discourse; thence gathers that the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden them to eat of under penalty of death, and thereon in- tends to found his temptation by seducing them to transgress ; then leaves them a while, to know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile Uriel, descending on a sunbeam, warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil Spirit had escaped the Deep, and passed at noon by his Sphere, in the shape of a good Angel, down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious gestures in the mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest: their bower described ; their evening worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the rounds of Paradise, appoints two strong Angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil Spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping : there they find him at the ear of Eve, tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom ques- tioned, he scornfully answers; prepares resistance; but, hindered by a sign from Heaven, flies out of Paradise. 184 Book IV.J PARADISE LOST. 185 BOOK IV. O FOR that warning voice, which he who saw The Apocalypse heard cry in Heaven aloud, Then when the Dragon, put to second rout, Came furious down to be revenged on men, "Woe to the inhabitants on Earth ! " that now. While time was, our first parents had been warned The coming of their secret foe, and scaped, Haply so scaped, his mortal snare ! For now Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down, The tempter, ere the accuser, of mankind. To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell. Yet not rejoicing in his speed, though bold Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast. Begins his dire attempt ; which, nigh the birth Now rolling, boils in his tumultuous breast, And like a devihsh engine back recoils Upon himself. Horror and doubt distract His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir The hell within him ; for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step, no more than from himself, can fly By change of place. Now conscience wakes despair That slumbered ; wakes the bitter memory i86 PARADISE LOST. [Book IV. Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse ; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue ! Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad ; Sometimes towards Heaven and the full-blazing Sun, Which now sat high in his meridian tower : 30 Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began : — " O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned, Look'st from thy sole dominion like the god Of this new World — at whose sight all the stars Hide their diminished heads — to thee I call, But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams. That bring to my remembrance from what state 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere, Till pride and worse ambition threw me down, 40 Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King ! Ah, wherefore? He deserved no such return From me, whom he created what I was In that bright eminence, and with his good Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. What could be less than to afford him praise. The easiest recompense, and pay him thanks, How due? Yet all his good proved ill in me. And wrought but malice. Lifted up so high, I sdained subjection, and thought one stej) higher 50 Would set me highest, and in a moment quit The debt immense of endless gratitude, So burdensome, still paying, still to owe ; Forgetful what from him I still received ; And understood not that a grateful mind Book IV.] PARADISE LOST. 187 By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged — what burden then? Oh, had his powerful destiny ordained Me some inferior Angel, I had stood Then happy ; no unbounded hope had raised 60 Ambition. Yet why not? Some other Power As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, Drawn to his part. But other Powers as great Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within Or from without to all temptations armed ! Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ? Thou hadst. Whom hast thou then, or what, to accuse, But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all ? Be then his love accursed, since, love or hate, To me alike it deals eternal woe. 70 Nay, cursed be thou ; since against his thy will Chose freely what it now so justly rues. Me miserable ! which way shall I fly Infinite wrath and infinite despair? Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ; * And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep Still threatening to devour me opens wide, To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven. O, then, at last relent ! Is there no place Left for repentance, none for pardon left? 80 None left but by submission ; and that word Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced With other promises and other vaunts 254. i88 PARADISE LOST. [Book IV. Than to submit, boasting I could subdue The Omnipotent. Ay me ! they litde know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, Under what torments inwardly I groan. While they adore me on the throne of Hell, With diadem and sceptre high advanced, 90 The lower still I fall, only supreme In misery : such joy ambition finds ! But say I could repent, and could obtain. By act of grace, my former state ; how soon Would highth recal high thoughts, how soon unsay What feigned submission swore ! Ease would recant Vows made in pain, as violent and void (For never can true reconcilement grow Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep) ; Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 100 And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear Short intermission, bought with double smart. This knows my Punisher ; therefore as far From granting he, as I from begging, peace. All hope excluded thus, behold, instead Of us, outcast, exiled, his new delight. Mankind, created, and for him this World ! So farewell hope, and, with hope, farewell fear. Farewell remorse ! All good to me is lost ; Evil, be thou my Good : by thee at least no Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign : As Man ere long, and this new World, shall know." PARADISE LOST. BOOK VI. (189-356, 524-892.) [Following the justly admired apostrophe to the sun comes an account of Satan's penetration into Paradise, and his espial upon the happy and innocent life of Adam and Eve, to ascertain in what way they might be attacked. Their conversation over the pro- hibited eating of the fruit of the b^*6f knowledge furnishes him with the needed suggestion, and taking the form of a toad he attempts to poison Eve's mind by prompting inordinate desires as she lies asleep. Surprised in the act of whispering in her ear by the angelic guard of Eden, he is driven from the garden in confu- sion and remains hidden from sight for seven days (Book IV.). Meanwhile the angel Raphael descends to warn Adam of his secret foe. He recounts how pride and ambition had led Satan to reject the authority of the Son of God, and how he had incited all his legions to revolt against that authority with the exception of one faithful seraph, Abdiel (Book V.). Raphael tells of Abdiel's flight to announce to God the news of Satan's rebellion and God's ap- proval of his loyalty. He describes the hasty approach of Satan's army, and recounts Satan's haughty address to Abdiel, threatening revenge for his desertion, and the latter's reply to Satan in words of rebuke for his treason, ending with the defiance, " This greeting on thy impious crest receive." — Ed.] 190 Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 191 BOOK VI. (189-356, 524-892.) " So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 190 On the proud crest of Satan that no sight. Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield. Such ruin intercept. Ten paces huge He back recoiled ; the tenth on bended knee His massy spear upstayed : as if, on earth, Winds under ground, or waters forcing way, Sidelong had pushed a mountain from his seat. Half-sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized The rebel Thrones, but greater rage, to see Thus foiled their mightiest ; ours joy filled, and shout, 200 Presage of victory, and fierce desire Of battle : whereat Michael bid sound The Archangel trumpet. Through the vast of Heaven It sounded, and the faithful armies rung Hosannah to the Highest ; nor stood at gaze The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, And clamour such as heard in heaven till now Was never ; arms on armour clashing brayed Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 210 Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise Of conflict ; overhead the dismal hiss 192 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew, And, flying, vaulted either host with fire. So under fiery cope together rushed Both battles main with ruinous assault And inextinguishable rage. All Heaven Resounded ; and, had Earth been then, all Earth Had to her centre shook. What wonder, when Millions of fierce encountering Angels fought 220 On either side, the least of whom could wield These elements,^ and arm him with the force Of all their regions ? How much more of power Army against army numberless to raise Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, Though not destroy, their happy native seat ; Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent From his strong hold of Heaven high overruled And limited their might, though numbered such As each divided legion might have seemed 230 A numerous host, in strength each armed hand A legion ! Led in fight, yet leader seemed Each warrior single as in chief; expert When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway Of battle, open when, and when to close The ridges of grim war. No thought of flight. None of retreat, no unbecoming deed That argued fear ; each on himself relied As only in his arm the moment lay Of victory. Deeds of eternal fame 240 Were done, but infinite ; for wide was spread Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 193 That war, and various : sometimes on firm ground A standing fight ; then, soaring on main wing, Tormented all the air ; all air seemed then Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale The battle hung ; till Satan, who that day Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms No equal, ranging through the dire attack Of fighting Seraphim confused, at length Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled 250 Squadrons at once : with huge two-handed sway Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down Wide-wasting. Such destruction to withstand He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield,* A vast circumference. At his approach The great Archangel from his warlike toil Surceased, and, glad, as hoping here to end Intestine war in Heaven, the Arch-foe subdued, Or captive dragged in chains, with hostile frown 260 And visage all inflamed, first thus began : — " * Author of Evil, unknown till thy revolt, Unnamed in Heaven, now plenteous as thou seest These acts of hateful strife — hateful to all. Though heaviest, by just measure, on thyself And thy adherents — how hast thou disturbed Heaven's blessed peace, and into Nature brought Misery, uncreated till the crime Of thy rebellion ! how hast thou instilled Thy malice into thousands, once upright 270 * 1. 284. 194 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. And faithful, now proved false ! But think not here To trouble holy rest ; Heaven casts thee out From all her confines ; Heaven, the seat of bliss, Brooks not the works of violence and war. Hence, then, and Evil go with thee along. Thy offspring, to the place of Evil, Hell — Thou and thy wicked crew ! there mingle broils ! Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom, Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from God, Precipitate thee with augmented pain.' 280 " So spake the Prince of Angels ; to whom thus The Adversary : — ' Nor think thou with wind Of airy threats to awe whom yet with deeds Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these To flight — or, if to fall, but that they rise Unvanquished — easier to transact with me That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats To chase me hence ? Err not that so shall end The strife which thou call'st evil, but we style The strife of glory ; which we mean to win, 290 Or turn this Heaven itself into the Hell Thou fablest ; here, however, to dwell free. If not to reign. Meanwhile, thy utmost force — And join him named Almighty to thy aid — I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh.' "They ended parle, and both addressed for fight Unspeakable ; for who, though with the tongue Of Angels, can relate, or to what things Liken on Earth conspicuous, that may lift Human imagination to such highth 300 Of godlike power ? for likest gods they seemed, Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 195 Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arras, Fit to decide the empire of great Heaven. Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields Blazed opposite, while Expectation stood In horror ; from each hand with speed retired. Where erst was thickest fight, the Angelic throng, And left large field, unsafe within the wind Of such commotion : such as (to set forth 310 Great things by small) if, Nature's concord broke. Among the constellations war were sprung. Two planets,* rushing from aspect malign Of fiercest opposition,^ in mid sky Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. Together both, with next to almighty arm Uplifted imminent, one stroke they aimed That might determine, and not need repeat As not of power, at once ; nor odds appeared In might or swift prevention. But the sword 320 Of Michael from the armoury of God Was given him tempered so that neither keen Nor solid might resist that edge : it met The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite Descending, and in half cut sheer ; nor stayed. But, with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared All his right side. Then Satan first knew pain, And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore The griding sword with discontinuous wound Passed through him. But the ethereal substance closed, 330 1 16. * II. 708. 196 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI Not long divisible ; and from the gash A stream of nectarous humour issuing flowed Sanguine, such as celestial Spirits may bleed, And all his armour stained, erewhile so bright. Forthwith, on all sides, to his aid was run By Angels many and strong, who interposed Defence, while others bore him on their shields Back to his chariot where it stood retired From off the files of war : there they him laid Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame 340 To find himself not matchless, and his pride Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath His confidence to equal God in power. Yet soon he healed ; for Spirits, that live throughout Vital in every part * — not, as frail Man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins — Cannot but by annihilating die ; Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound Receive, no more than can the fluid air : All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 350 All intellect, all sense ; and as they please They limb themselves, and color, shape, or size Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare." ********* [Here follows an account of the overthrow of lesser warriors, and the partial rout of Satan's army, checked only by the interven- tion of night. Signs of dissension and distrust appear in Satan's host, especially in a demand for more effective methods of fighting. Satan's devilish ingenuity enables him to retain his supremacy by the invention of cannon and the necessary explosive compounds, and these are hastily prepared, under cover of the darkness. — Ed.] * 1.423+- Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 197 *' Now, when fair Morn orient in Heaven appeared, Up rose the victor Angels, and to arms The matin trumpet sung. In arms they stood Of golden panoply, refulgent host. Soon banded ; others from the dawning hills Looked round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour. Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, 530 Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight, In motion or in halt. Him soon they met Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow But firm battalion : back with speediest sail Zophiel, of Cherubim the swiftest wing, Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried : — " ' Arm, Warriors, arm for fight ! The foe at hand, Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit This day ; fear not his flight ; so thick a cloud He comes, and settled in his face I see 540 Sad resolution and secure. Let each His adamantine coat gird well, and each Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield, Borne even or high ; for this day will pour down. If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower, But ratthng storm of arrows barbed with fire.' " So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon In order, quit of all impediment. Instant, without disturb, they took alarm, And onward move embattled : when, behold, 550 Not distant far, with heavy pace the foe Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube Training his devilish enginry, impaled On every side with shadowing squadrons deep, 198 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. To hide the fraud. At interview both stood A while ; but suddenly at head appeared Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : — " ' Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold, That all may see who hate us how we seek Peace and composure, and with open breast 560 Stand ready to receive them, if they like Our overture, and turn not back perverse : But that I doubt. However, witness Heaven ! Heaven, witness thou anon ! while we discharge Freely our part. Ye, who appointed stand, Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch What we propound, and loud that all may hear.' " So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce Had ended, when to right and left the front Divided, and to either flank retired ; 570 Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, A triple mounted row of pillars laid On wheels (for Uke to pillars most they seemed. Or hollowed bodies made of oak or fir, With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled). Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths With hideous orifice gaped on us wide. Portending hollow truce. At each, behind, A Seraph stood, and in his hand a reed Stood waving tipt with fire ; while we, suspense, 580 Collected stood within our thoughts amused. Not long ! for sudden all at once their reeds Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, But soon obscured with smoke, all Heaven appeared, Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 199 From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar Embowelled with outrageous noise the air, And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul Their devihsh glut, chained thunderbolts and hail Of iron globes ; which, on the victor host 590 Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote. That whom they hit none on their feet might stand, Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell By thousands, Angel on Archangel rolled. The sooner for their arms. Unarmed, they might Have easily, as Spirits, evaded swift By quick contraction * or remove ; but now Foul dissipation followed, and forced rout ; Nor served it to relax their serried files. What should they do? If on they rushed, repulse 600 Repeated, and indecent overthrow Doubled, would render them yet more despised. And to their foes a laughter — for in view Stood ranked of Seraphim another row. In posture to displode their second tire Of thunder ; back defeated to return They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight. And to his mates thus in derision called : — " ' O friends, why come not on these victors proud ? Erewhile they fierce were coming ; and, when we, 610 To entertain them fair with open front And breast (what could we more?), propounded terms Of composition, straight they changed their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, * L 429. 200 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. As they would dance. Yet for a dance they seemed Somewhat extravagant and wild ; perhaps For joy of offered peace. But I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result.' " To whom thus Belial,* in Hke gamesome mood : — 620 ' Leader, the terms we sent were terms of weight, Of hard contents, and full of force urged home, Such as we might perceive amused them all, And stumbled many. Who receives them right Had need from head to foot well understand ; Not understood, this gift they have besides — They show us when our foes walk not upright.' " So they among themselves in pleasant vein Stood scoffing, highthened in their thoughts beyond All doubt of victory ; Eternal Might 630 To match with their inventions they presumed So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn. And all his host derided, while they stood A while in trouble. But they stood not long ; Rage prompted them at length, and found them arms Against such helHsh mischief fit to oppose. Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power. Which God hath in his mighty Angels placed !) Their arms away they threw, and to the hills (For Earth hath this variety from Heaven 640 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale) Light as the Hghtning-glimpse they ran, they flew ; From their foundations, loosening to and fro, * II. 112. Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 2ol They plucked the seated hills,* with all their load, Rocks, waters, woods, and, by the shaggy tops Uplifting, bore them in their hands. Amaze, Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel host. When coming towards them so dread they saw The bottom of the mountains upward turned. Till on those cursed engines' triple row 650 They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence Under the weight of mountains buried deep ; Themselves invaded next, and on their heads Main promontories flung, which in the air Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed. Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and bruised. Into their substance pent — which wrought them pain Implacable, and many a dolorous groan. Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind Out of such prison, though Spirits of purest light, 660 Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. The rest, in imitation, to like arms Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore ; So hills amid the air encountered hills. Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire. That underground they fought in dismal shade : Infernal noise ! war seemed a civil game To this uproar ; horrid confusion heaped Upon confusion rose. And now all Heaven Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread, 670 Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits Shrined in his sanctuary of Heaven secure, * IL 540. 202 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. Consulting on the sum of things, foreseen This tumult, and permitted all, advised. That his great purpose he might so fulfil, To honour his Anointed Son, avenged Upon his enemies, and to declare All power on him transferred. Wh'ence to his Son, The assessor of his throne, he thus began : — " ' Effulgence of my glory, Son beloved, 680 Son in whose face invisible is beheld Visibly, what by Deity I am, And in whose hand what by decree I do. Second Omnipotence ! two days are passed, Two days, as we compute the days of Heaven, Since Michael and his Powers went forth to tame These disobedient. Sore hath been their fight. As likeliest was when two such foes met armed : For to themselves I left them ; and thou know'st Equal in their creation they were formed, 690 Save what sin hath impaired — which yet hath wrought Insensibly, for I suspend their doom : Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last Endless, and no solution will be found. War wearied hath performed what war can do, And to disordered rage let loose the reins. With mountains, as with weapons, armed ; which makes Wild work in Heaven, and dangerous to the main. Two days are, therefore, passed ; the third is thine : For thee I have ordained it, and thus far 700 Have suffered, that the glory may be thine Of ending this great war, since none but thou Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 263 Immense I have transfused, that all may know In Heaven and Hell thy power above compare, And this perverse commotion governed thus, To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir Of all things — to be Heir, and to be King By sacred unction, thy deserved right. Go, then, thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might ; 710 Ascend my chariot ; guide the rapid wheels That shake Heaven's basis ; bring forth all my war ; My bow and thunder, my almighty arms. Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh ; Pursue these Sons of Darkness, drive them out From all Heaven's bounds into the utter Deep ; There let them learn, as likes them, to despise God, and Messiah his anointed King.' " He said, and on his Son with rays direct Shone full. He all his Father full expressed 720 Ineffably into his face received ; And thus the Filial Godhead answering spake : — " ' O Father, O Supreme of Heavenly Thrones, First, Highest, Holiest, Best, thou always seek'st To glorify thy Son ; I always thee. As is most just. This I my glory account, My exaltation, and my whole delight. That thou in me, well pleased, declar'st thy will Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. Sceptre and power, thy giving, I assume, 730 And gladlier shall resign when in the end Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee For ever, and in me all whom thou lov'st. But whom thou hat'st I hate, and can put on 204 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on, Image of thee in all things : and shall soon, Armed with thy might, rid Heaven of these rebelled, To their prepared ill mansion driven down, To chains of darkness and the undying worm,^ That from thy just obedience could revolt, 74° Whom to obey is happiness entire. Then shall thy Saints, unmixed, and from the impure Far separate, circling thy holy Mount, Unfeigned halleluiahs to thee sing. Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief.' " So said, he, o'er his sceptre bowing, rose From the right hand of Glory where he sat ; And the third sacred morn began to shine. Dawning through Heaven. Forth rushed with whirlwind sound The chariot of Paternal Deity, 750 Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel ; undrawn, Itself instinct with spirit,* but convoyed By four cherubic Shapes. Four faces " each Had w^ondrous ; as with stars, their bodies all And wings were set with eyes ; with eyes the wheels Of beryl, and careering fires between ; Over their heads a crystal firmament. Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure Amber and colours of the showery arch. He, in celestial panoply all armed 760 Of radiant Urim,^ work divinely wrought. Ascended ; at his right hand Victory 1 94. -^ 72. 3 89. * VII. 204. Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 205 Sat eagle- winged ; beside him hung his bow, And quiver, with three-bolted thunder stored ; And from about him fierce effusion rolled Of smoke and bickering flame and sparkles dire. Attended with ten thousand thousand Saints, He onward came ; far off his coming shone ; And twenty thousand (I their number heard) Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen, 770 He on the wings of Cherub rode sublime On the crystalline sky, in sapphire throned — Illustrious far and wide, but by his own First seen. Them unexpected joy surprised When the great ensign of Messiah blazed Aloft, by Angels borne, his sign in Heaven ; Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced His army, circumfused on either wing. Under their Head embodied all in one. Before him Power Divine his way prepared ; 780 At his command the uprooted hills retired Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went Obsequious ; Heaven his wonted face renewed. And with fresh flowerets hill and valley smiled. " This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured, And to rebellious fight rallied their Powers, Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. In Heavenly Spirits could such perverseness dwell? But to convince the proud what signs avail. Or wonders move the obdurate to relent? 790 They, hardened more by what might most reclaim. Grieving to see his glory, at the sight Took envy, and, aspiring to his highth, 2o6 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud Weening to prosper, and at length prevail Against God and Messiah, or to fall In universal ruin last ; and now To final battle drew, disdaining flight, Or faint retreat : when the great Son of God To all his host on either hand thus spake : — 800 " ' Stand still in bright array, ye Saints ; here stand. Ye angels armed ; this day from battle rest. Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause ; And, as ye have received, so have ye done, Invincibly. But of this cursed crew The punishment to other hand belongs ; Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints. Number to this day's work is not ordained. Nor multitude ; stand only and behold 810 God's indignation on these godless poured By me. Not you, but me, they have despised, Yet envied ; against me is all their rage, Because the Father, to whom in Heaven supreme Kingdom and power and glory appertains, Hath honoured me, according to his will. Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned. That they may have their wish, to try with me In battle which the stronger proves — they all, Or I alone against them ; since by strength 820 They measure all, of other excellence Not emulous, nor care who them excels ; Nor other strife with them do I voutsafe.' " So spake the Son, and into terror changed Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 207 His countenance, too severe to be beheld, And full of wrath bent on his enemies. At once the Four spread out their starry wings With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. 830 He on his impious foes right onward drove, Gloomy as Night. Under his burning wheels The steadfast Empyrean shook throughout, All but the throne itself of God. Full soon Among them he arrived, in his right hand Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent Before him, such as in their souls infixed Plagues. They, astonished, all resistance lost. All courage ; down their idle weapons dropt ; O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode 840 Of Thrones and mighty Seraphim prostrate. That wished the mountains now might be again Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. Nor less on either side tempestuous fell His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged Four, Distinct with eyes, and from the living wheels. Distinct alike with multitude of eyes ; One spirit in them ruled, and every eye Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire Among the accursed, that withered all their strength, 850 And of their wonted vigour left them drained. Exhausted, spiritless, afflicted, fallen. Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked His thunder in mid-volley ; for he meant Not to destroy, but root them out of Heaven. 2o8 PARADISE LOST. [Book VI. The overthrown he raised, and, as a herd Of goats or timorous flock together thronged, Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued With terrors and with furies to the bounds And crystal wall of Heaven ; which, opening wide, 860 Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed Into the wasteful Deep. The monstrous sight Strook them with horror backward ; but far worse Urged them behind : headlong themselves they threw * Down from the verge of Heaven : eternal wrath Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. " Hell heard the unsufferable noise ; Hell saw Heaven ruining from Heaven, and would have fled Aff'righted ; but strict Fate had cast too deep Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 870 Nine days they fell ; confounded Chaos roared, And felt tenfold confusion in their fall Through his wild Anarchy ; so huge a rout Encumbered him with ruin. Hell at last. Yawning, received them whole, and on them closed — Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. Disburdened Heaven rejoiced, and soon repaired Her mural breach, returning whence it rolled. Sole victor, from the expulsion of his foes 880 Messiah his triumphal chariot turned. To meet him all his Saints, who silent stood Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts. With jubilee advanced ; and, as they went, *I.44+. Book VI.] PARADISE LOST. 209 Shaded with branching pahn, each order bright Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given, Worthiest to reign. He celebrated rode. Triumphant through mid Heaven, into the courts And temple of his mighty Father throned 890 On high ; who into glory him received, Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss." PARADISE LOST. BOOK VII. (192-568.) [Raphael concludes his account of the war in Heaven with a warning against disobedience, but at Adam's request he also relates how the World was created, after the fall of Satan from Heaven (Book VH.).— Ed.] Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 213 BOOK VII. (192-568.) " Meanwhile the Son On his great expedition now api)eared, (jirt with omnipotence, with radiance crowned Of majesty divine, sapience and love Immense ; and all his Father in him shone. About his chariot numberless were poured Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, And Virtues, winged Spirits, and chariots winged From the armoury of God, where stand of old 200 Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged Against a solemn day, harnessed at hand. Celestial equipage ; and now came forth Spontaneous, for within them Spirit lived, Attendant on their Lord. Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound On golden hinges moving,* to let forth The King of Glory, in his powerful Word And Spirit coming to create new worlds. On Heavenly ground they stood, and from the shore 210 They viewed the vast immeasurable Abyss, Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild. Up from the bottom turned by furious winds *IL879+. 214 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. And surging waves, as mountains to assault Heaven's highth, and with the centre mix the pole. " * Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou Deep, peace ! ' Said then the omnific Word : ' your discord end ! ' Nor stayed ; but, on the wings of Cherubim UpHfted, in paternal glory rode Far into Chaos and the World unborn ; 220 For Chaos heard his voice. Him all his train Followed in bright procession, to behold Creation, and the wonders of his might. Then stayed the fervid wheels, and in his hand He took the golden compasses, prepared In God's eternal store, to circumscribe This Universe, and all created things. One foot he centred, and the other turned Round through the vast profundity obscure, And said, ' Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds ; 230 This be thy just circumference, O World ! ' Thus God the heaven created, thus the Earth, Matter unformed and void. Darkness profound Covered the Abyss ; but on the watery calm His brooding wings * the Spirit of God outspread, And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth, Throughout the fluid mass, but downward purged The black, Tartareous, cold, infernal dregs. Adverse to Hfe ; then founded, then conglobed, Like things to like, the rest to several place 240 Disparted, and between spun out the Air, And Earth, self-balanced, on her centre hung. * I. 20. Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 215 " ' Let there be Light ! ' said God ; and forthwith Light Ethereal, first of things, quintessence ^ pure, Sprung from the Deep, and from her native East To journey through the aery gloom began, Sphered in a radiant cloud — for yet the Sun Was not ; she in a cloudy tabernacle Sojourned the while. God saw the Light was good : And light from darkness by the hemisphere 250 Divided : Light the Day, and Darkness Night, He named. Thus was the first Day even and morn ; Nor passed uncelebrated, nor unsung By the celestial quires, when orient light Exhahng first from darkness they beheld, Birth-day of Heaven and Earth. With joy and shout The hollow universal orb they filled, And touched their golden harps, and hymning praised God and his works ; Creator him they sung. Both when first evening was, and when first morn. 260 " Again God said, ' Let there be firmament Amid the waters, and let it divide The waters from the waters ! ' And God made The firmament, expanse of liquid, pure. Transparent, elemental air,* diffused In circuit to the uttermost convex Of this great round — partition firm and sure. The waters underneath from those above Dividing ; for as Earth, so he the World Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 270 Crystalline - ocean, and the loud misrule 1 5. 29. * in. 564^ 574. 2i6 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. Of Chaos far removed, lest fierce extremes Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : And heaven he named the firmament. So even And morning chorus sung the second Day. " The Earth was formed, but, in the womb as yet Of waters, embryon immature, involved, Appeared not ; over all the face of F^arth Main ocean flowed, not idle, but, with warm Prolific humour softening all her globe, 280 Fermented the great mother to conceive, Satiate with genial moisture ; when God said, * Be gathered now, ye waters under heaven. Into one place, and let dry land appear ! ' Immediately the mountains huge appear Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave Into the clouds ; their tops ascend the sky. So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, Capacious bed of waters. Thither they 290 Hasted with glad precipitance, uprolled, As drops on dust conglobing, from the dry : Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct. For haste; such flight the great command impressed On the swift floods. As armies at the call Of trumpet (for of armies thou hast heard) Troop to the standard, so the watery throng. Wave rolling after wave, where way they found — If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain, Soft-ebbing ; nor withstood them rock or hill ; 300 But they, or underground, or circuit wide With serpent error wandering, found their way, Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 217 And on the washy ooze deep channels wore : Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, All but within those banks where rivers now Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. The dry land Earth, and the great receptacle Of congregated waters he called Seas ; And saw that it was good, and said, * Let the Earth Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed, 310 And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, Whose seed is in herself upon the Earth ! ' He scarce had said when the bare Earth, till then Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned. Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad Her universal face with pleasant green ; Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered. Opening their various colours, and made gay Her bosom smelling sweet ; and, these scarce blown, Forth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept 320 The smelling gourd, up stood the corny reed Embattled in her field : add the humble shrub, And bush with frizzled hair imphcit : last Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemmed Their blossoms. With high woods the hills were crowned, With tufts the valleys and each fountain-side. With borders long the rivers, that Earth now Seemed like to Heaven, a seat where gods might dwell. Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 330 Her sacred shades ; though God had yet not rained Upon the Earth, and man to till the ground None was, but from the Earth a dewy mist 2i8 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. Went up and watered all the ground, and each Plant of the field, which ere it was in the Earth God made, and every herb before it grew On the green stem. God saw that it was good ; So even and morn recorded the third Day. " Again the Almighty spake, '■ Let there be Lights High in the expanse of heaven, to divide 340 The Day from Night ; and let them be for signs, For seasons, and for days, and circling years ; And let them be for lights, as I ordain Their office in the firmament of heaven, To give light on the Earth ! ' and it was so. And God made two great Lights, great for their use To Man, the greater to have rule by day. The less by night, altern ; and made the Stars, And set them in the firmament of heaven To illuminate the Earth, and rule the day 350 In their vicissitude, and rule the night. And light from darkness to divide. God saw. Surveying his great work, that it was good : For, of celestial bodies, first the Sun A mighty sphere he framed, unlightsome first, Though of ethereal mould ; then formed the Moon Globose, and every magnitude of Stars, And sowed with stars the heaven thick as a field. Of light by far the greater part he took, Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 360 In the Sun's orb, made porous to receive And drink the liquid light, firm to retain Her gathered beams, great palace now of Light. Hither, as to their fountain, other stars Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 219 Repairing in their golden urns draw light. And hence the morning planet ^ gilds her horns ; By tincture or reflection - they augment Their small peculiar, though, from human sight So far remote, with diminution seen. First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 370 Regent of day, and all the horizon round Invested with bright rays, jocund to run His longitude through heaven's high road ; the grey Dawn, and the Pleiades," before him danced. Shedding sweet influence.'' Less bright the Moon, But opposite in levelled west, was set, His mirror, with full face borrowing her light From him ; * for other light she needed none In that aspect, and still that distance keeps Till night ; then in the east her turn she shines, 380 Revolved on heaven's great axle, and her reign With thousand lesser lights dividual holds. With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared Spangling the hemisphere. Then first adorned With her bright luminaries, that set and rose, Glad evening and glad morn crowned the fourth Day. " And God said, ' Let the waters generate Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul ; And let Fowl fly above the earth, with wings Displayed on the open firmament of heaven ! ' 390 And God created the great whales, and each Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously The waters generated by their kinds, 1 14. '^ 17. 3 12. •* 16. * IIL 730. 220 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. And every bird of wing after his kind, And saw that it was good, and blessed them, saying, ' Be fruitful, multiply, and, in the seas, And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill ; And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth ! ' Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay. With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals 400 Of fish that, with their fins and shining scales. Glide under the green wave in sculls that oft Bank the mid-sea. Part, single or with mate, Graze the sea-weed, their pasture, and through groves Of coral stray, or, sporting with quick glance. Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold. Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend Moist nutriment, or under rocks their food In jointed armour watch ; on smooth the seal And bended dolphins play : part, huge of bulk, 410 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait. Tempest the ocean. There leviathan,* Hugest of living creatures, on the deep Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims. And seems a moving land, and at his gills Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores. Their brood as numerous hatch from the tgg, that soon. Bursting with kindly rupture, forth disclosed Their callow young ; but feathered soon and fledge 420 They summed their pens, and, soaring the air sublime, With clang despised the ground, under a cloud * I. 201. Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 221 In prospect. There the eagle and the stork On cUffs and cedar-tops their eyries build. Part loosely wing the region ; part, more wise, In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way. Intelligent of seasons, and set forth Their aery caravan, high over seas Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing Easing their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 430 Her annual voyage, borne on winds ; the air Floats as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes. From branch to branch the smaller birds with song Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings. Till even ; nor then the solemn nightingale Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lays. Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed Their downy breast ; the swan, with arched neck Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows Her state with oary feet ; yet oft they quit 440 The dank, and, rising on stiff pennons, tower The mid aerial sky. Others on ground Walked firm — the crested cock, whose clarion sounds The silent hours, and the other, whose gay train Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus With Fish replenished, and the air with Fowl, Evening and morn solemnized the fifth Day. " The sixth, and of Creation last, arose With evening harps and matin ; when God said, 450 * Let the' Earth bring forth soul living in her kind, Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of-the earth, Each in their kind ! ' The Earth obeyed, and, straight 222 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. Opening her fertile womb, teemed at a birth Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms, Limbed and full-grown. Out of the ground up rose, As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den — Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walked ; The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 460 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks Pasturing at once and in broad herds, upsprung. The grassy clods now calved ; now half appeared The tawny lion, pawing to get free His hinder parts — then springs, as broke from bonds. And rampant shakes his brinded mane ; the ounce. The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw In hillocks ; the swift stag from underground Bore up his branching head ; scarce from his mould 470 Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved His vastness ; fleeced the flocks and bleating rose. As plants ; ambiguous between sea and land. The river-horse and scaly crocodile. At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, Insect or worm. Those waved their limber fans For wings, and smallest lineaments exact In all the liveries decked of summer's pride, With spots of gold and purple, azure and green ; These as a line their long dimension drew, 480 Streaking the ground with sinuous trace : not all Minims of nature ; some of serpent kind, Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 223 The parsimonious emmet, provident Of future, in small room large heart enclosed — Pattern of just equality perhaps Hereafter — joined in her popular tribes Of commonalty. Swarming next appeared The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 490 Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells With honey stored. The rest are numberless, And thou their natures know'st, and gav'st them names, Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field. Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes And hairy mane terrific, though to thee Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. " Now Heaven in all her glory shone, and rolled Her motions, as the great First Mover's hand 500 First wheeled their course ; Earth, in her rich attire Consummate, lovely smiled; Air, Water, Earth, By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walked, Frequent ; and of the sixth Day yet remained. There wanted yet the master-work, the end Of all yet done — a creature who, not prone And brute as other creatures, but endued With sanctity of reason, might erect His stature, and, upright with front serene Govern the rest, self-knowing, and from thence 510 Magnanimous to correspond with Heaven, But grateful to acknowledge whence his good Descends ; thither with heart, and voice, and eyes Directed in devotion, to adore And worship God Supreme, who made him chief 224 PARADISE LOST. [Book VII. Of all his works. Therefore the Omnipotent Eternal Father (for where is not He Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake : — ' Let us make now Man in our image, Man In our similitude, and let them rule 520 Over the fish and fowl of sea and air, Beast of the field, and over all the earth. And every creeping thing that creeps the ground ! ' This said, he formed thee, Adam, thee, O Man, Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed The breath of life ; in his own image he Created thee, in the image of God Express, and thou becam'st a living soul. Male he created thee, but thy consort Female, for race ; then blessed mankind, and said, 530 ' Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the Earth ; Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air, And every living thing that moves on the Earth ! ' Wherever thus created — for no place Is yet distinct by name — thence, as thou know'st, He brought thee into this deHcious grove, This Garden, planted with the trees of God, Delectable both to behold and taste, And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 540 Gave thee. All sorts are here that all the earth yields. Variety without end ; but of the tree Which tasted works knowledge of good and evil Thou may'st not ; in the day thou eat'st, thou diest. Death is the penalty imposed ; beware. And govern well thy appetite, lest Sin Book VII.] PARADISE LOST. 225 Surprise thee, and her black attendant, Death. " Here finished He, and all that he had made Viewed, and, behold ! all was entirely good. So even and morn accomplished the sixth Day ; 550 Yet not till the Creator, from his work Desisting, though unwearied, up returned. Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high abode, Thence to behold this new-created World, The addition of his empire, how it showed In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, Answering his great idea. Up he rode, Followed with acclamation, and the sound Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that tuned Angelic harmonies. The Earth, the Air 560 Resounded (thou remember'st, for thou heard'st), The heavens and all the constellations rung, The planets in their stations listening stood, While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. ' Open, ye everlasting gates ! ' they sung ; ' Open, ye Heavens, your living doors ! let in The great Creator, from his work returned Magnificent, his six days' work, a World ! ' " PARADISE LOST. BOOK X. (504-547.) [Adam prolongs the conversation with questions regarding the structure of the World, and with accounts of his own experiences since he waked to life at the Creator's bidding (Book VIII. ). Satan, entering into the body of the Serpent, beguiles Eve to eat of the forbidden fruit. Adam shares her guilt, whereupon both are smitten with shame and consciousness of guilt (Book IX.). Satan, returning to Hell with news of his success, meets Sin and Death, who have just completed a broad and firm pathway from Hell to the World (see II. 1023 + ). He proceeds to Pandemonium, and an- nounces to the chiefs (who have reassembled there) his victory over Man and the stratagem by which it was won, ending with the words " What remains, ye gods, But up, and enter now into full bliss." — Ed.] 228 Book X.] PARADISE LOST. 229 BOOK X. (504-547.) So having said, a while he stood, expecting Their universal shout and high applause To fill his ear ; when, contrary, he hears. On all sides, from innumerable tongues A dismal universal hiss, the sound Of public scorn. He wondered, but not long Had leisure, wondering at himself now more. 510 His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare. His arms clung to his ribs, his legs entwining Each other, till, supplanted, down he fell, A monstrous serpent on his belly prone, Reluctant, but in vain ; a greater power Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned, According to his doom. He would have spoke, But hiss for hiss returned with forked tongue To forked tongue ; for now were all transformed Alike, to serpents all, as accessories 520 To his bold riot. Dreadful was the din Of hissing through the hall, thick-swarming now IWith complicated monsters, head and tail — %corpion,^ and Asp,^ and Amphisbsena ' dire, ''Cerastes^ horned, Hydrus,^ and Ellops ^ drear. And Dipsas^ (not so thick swarmed once the soil 1 All names of serpents. 23© PARADISE LOST. [Book X. Bedropt with blood of Gorgon,^ or the isle Ophiusa) ; but still greatest he the midst, Now Dragon grown, larger than whom the Sun Engendered in the Pythian vale on shme, 530 Huge Python ; ^ and his power no less he seemed Above the rest still to retain. They all Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, Where all yet left of that revolted rout, Heaven-fallen, in station stood or just array, Subhme with expectation when to see In triumph issuing forth their glorious Chief They saw, but other sight instead — a crowd Of ugly serpents ! Horror on them fell. And horrid sympathy ; for what they saw 540 They felt themselves now changing. Down their arms, Down fell both spear and shield ; down they as fast, And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form Catched by contagion, Hke in punishment As in their crime. Thus was the applause they meant Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame Cast on themselves from their own mouths. [Some time thereafter, the infernal angels were permitted to as- sume their former shapes, and, escaping to the Earth, to delude the heathen world with false religions (cf. Book I. 364 + ). Mean- while, at God's command, mighty angels so disturbed the mech- anism of the World as to destroy the benign conditions which had hitherto universally prevailed upon the Earth, and war sprang up among various living things. Thus the Earth reflected man's sin- fulness, and Adam and Eve in despair contemplated self-destruc- tion. Better counsels prevailed, and they determined to work out 1 52. 2 39. Book X.] PARADISE LOST. 231 in patience whatever fate God might ordain for them (Book X.). God, at his Son's intercession, was reconciled to man, but denied to the guilty pair the further enjoyment of Paradise. Before bidding farewell to his home, however, Adam was comforted by a revelation (in a prophetic vision) of the history of his Seed up to the time of God's covenant with Aliraham (see 81) And of the ultimate salva- tion of the race through Christ's atoning sacrifice (Books XI. and XII.). — Ed.] 232 PARADISE LOST. NOTES. PARADISE LOST. These notes aim to call attention to the literary art of the composition. It is assumed that the pupil will employ the glossary and the introduction in elucidating the meaning of the poem, without repeated injunctions to do so. Book L 1-26. Note in what relation (see p. 7 + ) this stands to the entire poem. Trace the successive subjects treated, and their logical connection. What is gained by inverting the first sentence? Note the use of figurative expression (see p. 10+ ). Listen to the lines, one by one. At what point does the musical quality become more noticeable? What in the subject at that point calls for heightened emotional expression? Is the imitation of pagan invocations in good taste in a poem so pecuHarly Christian? Is the imitation well executed? To what in the former do Sinai, Horeb, Siloa's brook, correspond ? 27-49. In what relation does this stand to the first book of Paradise Lost? Read aloud the closing passage, beginning " Him the Almighty Power." Note the distribution of accents at the be- ginning and at the end, and show the purpose of such distribution. What consonant sounds are especially suggestive? Is the sentence made long for a special purpose? What class of words has been used in its construction? 50-75. Describe this scene in your own words and in some sys- tematic order, e.g. beginning with the roof. Compare your order with Milton's. What principle of arrangement did he follow? Critics have said tliat in lines 73 and 74 Milton was simply trying NOTES. 233 to outdo Virgil, who places Tartarus twice as far down as Earth. Was there any independent reason for choosing the ratio tJvice ? 76-191. Examine the analysis of Satan's speech on--4iage^8. . yVhat order would the divisions of Beelzebub's speech naturally follow? Test your theory by making an outline of his speech. What difterence of spirit do the speeches show? What double end does Satan ^s second spee ch serve? Group into systematic form the elements of ^Satan's character— as-exhibited in his two speeches, and compare them with Milton's previous description of his qualities. Are the description and the speeches consistent? Why should Satan's opening sentence be disjointed? Lines 109, no have been considered obscure because it is uncertain to what xvords the phrase " that glory " refers. Is the thought in the speaker^ s t?iind obscure, either to himself or to his hearer? Is there any logical reason for his incompleteness of exp7-ession ? Why does Satan refer to God in the terms that he does? Listen to the metrical effect of lines 157 and 158. How many natural sixtssts in 157? Is the movement here hastened or retarded? Is this in harmony with the contents of the passage? with the state of mind of the speaker? What artistic contrast in the quality of the lines from 169 to 191? What is the prevailing tone of Beelzebub's reply? Is he, then, with pertinence called "bold" in line 127? What general truths do we find nobly and concisely expressed in these speeches? 192-241. What kind of composition is exemplified in this pas- sage? How does Milton intensify the images of Satan and of the land on which he alights (104, 105)? What motive for inverting the normal order of the sentence beginning with 203? Observe the suggestiveness of each detail in the illustration of the Leviathan. Is there illustrative pertinence in the expressions slumderifig, foam, pilot, night invests the sea, scaly rind? Critics have said that Mil- ton's similes are continued beyond the point of resemblance which he aimed to bring out. In this simile has he allowed his mind to wander from the subject in hand, and introduced description for its own sake? Apply the same critical method to the examination of the simile of the volcano. In lines 210+ note the first step 234 PARADISE LOST. towards fulfilling the promise made in line 26. What special object in placing this "justification" where it is? 242-282. Formal analysis must always fail to reveal the secret of the finest poetry. This magnificent speech of Satan should be 7-ead again and again until its spirit and its grandeur have impressed themselves upon the consciousness by their own inherent power. This speech exemplifies in the highest degree what is meant by creative imagination ; for in composing it Milton for the time being must have shared imaginatively Satan's very life and emotions. Note especially the two generalizations that link Satan's experience with that of humanity. Compare the first and the last sentence, and trace the underlying unity in the entire speech. 283-313. Note the constant alternation of description and dia- logue. How many similes do you observe? Is there any special fitness in thus crowding one image upon another here? Milton's use of impressive-sounding proper names is very skilful. Test by reading aloud the effect of those here used. Why is the synecdoche (see p. 11) in line 286 more expressive than the name of the object itself would be? In what different ways does the shield under the circumstances described resemble the moon, seeft at evening, through optic glass, in Valdarno ? 314-330. Listen to the effect of the open vowels and the liquids in the first sentence. Note the ingenuity with which Satan appeals to different emotions in his hearers. Compare the length of this speech with that of the previous ones. Why the difference? Is the expression of the thought full or condensed? Declaim the opening and tlosing sentences, noting their explosive force, and judging the possibility of making " all the hollow deep of Hell " resound with them. 331-355. Another crowding of images. Again trace resem- blances, and point out the pertinence of thus crowding them. Especially observe the value of individual words, like pitchy, warp- ing. Sultan, Danaw (for Danube). 356-391. A passage of the utmost importance, but requiring con- centrated attention owing to the novelty of the thought to modern minds. What fact in human history does Milton attempt to ex- NOTES. 235 plain? What fact in God's dealings with man? What qualilications for leadership among the devils are implied? 392-521. This catalogue of leaders is in imitation of a similar one in Homer's Iliad. Endeavor to feel the impression of the number and importance of these leaders which Milton tried to convey by this long roll of high-sounding names and thick-recurring incidents of insolent and gross crimes against God. Observe the alternation between indignant reprobation of the Jews for their vices, and sneering contempt for their folly in being corrupted. Note the suggestions conveyed in Milton's epithets — bleating gods, middle air, Saturn old, etc. How many natural divisions of the air, based on its relation to man, might a Ptolemaist be led to conceive to exist? What in Belial's character makes it fitting that he should come last? The places mentioned should be located once upon the map (p. 87), although a detailed study of the passage is not recommended. 522-618. Note that this is the first extended example of simple narration, that is, of events rapidly succeeding one another. Mark the art by which impressions of color, of motion, of numbers, of different qualities of sound are conveyed. Trace the different military evolutions from "assembly" to "general orders," and observe how military technicalities (" serried ranks," " ordered " spears, "files," "attention") can be transmuted into poetry. What artifices, previously exemplified, are employed in 576-587, and for what purpose? 619-669. Do you note any resemblance between the opening of this speech and that of a previous one ? What fear in Satan's mind leads to the remarks in lines 626-642? What shrewdness, therefore, in his comments on their recent defeat? What tendency of human nature is exemplified in line 642? Note the oratorical art in the hyperbole of line 633, in the sophistry of line 643, in the emotional character of the closing sentence of the speech. Observe, again, in lines 663-669 Milton's power of word-painting, and test the quality of the lines by comparison with preceding ones of the same type. 670-751. Is there an intimate connection in thought between 236 PARADISE LOST. the speech of Satan and the action of the " brigad "? What is the subject of this entire passage? Does it exhibit the orderly treat- ment heretofore invariably adhered to? Is this treatment in har- mony with the subject-matter? Compare the quality of these similes with those preceding, as regards their intrinsic beauty, their power to render vivid your mental image of the scene depicted, and their originality. Select the passages especially musical in quality, or notable for their graphic force. Mark the accuracy of the lan- guage, as in the phrase, " metallic ore, the work of sulphur." Is the image of opening a wound in the hill and extracting ribs of gold a pleasing one? Is it fitting? Follow with the utmost care the operations of each crew of workmen, and make a diagram (vertical section) of the scene of operations. Make a list of words eftective for their connotation, like creiv aljove. Is there reason to assume that Milton represents Mammon and Mulciber as the same person? 752-798. What especially notable feature in the simile of the bees? Where has Milton previously prepared the mind for the change in size of the angels? Why did he not reduce to pygmies all the angels? General Study of Book I. a. Prepare to write an essay upon Satan by (i) gathering into logical and connected form the descriptions of his personal appear- ance, and the direct and indirect evidences of his character and his mental and physical condition, that are distributed through the first book, (2) observing the variety and the significance of the different titles applied to him, and (3) scrutinizing his qualifications for lead- ership among devils and domination over man. b. Prepare to write about tlie Fal len A ngels, making definite in your mind their nature, — their powers, their limitations, their ap- pearance, and their mental liabits. Determine whether they were immortal — indestructible. TJow could they suffer from wounds? How long would they remain in the form of pygmies? What would determine their normal form (see lines 679-681)? c. Prepare to describe }Iell as Milton conceived it. treating its NOTES. 237 origin, purpose, appearance, topography (construct a map), and general features. d. Structure. Review the order of thought and of treatment throughout the book. Has it unity of subject? of style? of treat- ment? Is it logically progressive? Are there minor climaxes of interest? Is there an ultimate supreme climax? How is interest^ the succeeding books excited? e. Milton^s Diction. Group into an essay such elements as you have noticed, giving illustrative examples of his / {a) Variety of expression. ^' {b^ Causative, archaic, passive, negative, uses of words. (^) Latinisms, (^) Coinage of words. ( What hints of its character has he previously giveji ? 928-1055. JNIake a map nf S^t^nn't^ jath through Chaos . What dangers d oes he en counter? What qualities does he exhibit. Compare his manner of approaching Death with his manner 240 PARADISE LOST. towards Chaos. Why the difference? To what feeling in Chaos does he appeal? What in the Anarch's reply shows the appeal to have been shrewd? Note the slight supplement to the allegory of Sin and Death, and interpret it ethically. Which similes are good, which poor? Note the onomatopoeia in the description of Satan's fall, of his attempts to fly, of the obstacles that impede him, of the sounds he hears, of his easier flight. The passage contains much expressive writing, and should be scrutinized with great care. What is to be the subject of the succeeding book as indicated by lines 1034 to 1055? General Study of Book II. a. Prepare to write upon Thp Dphqfp in. Hell, treating of its form, as modelled upon English parliamentary procedure; of its partici- pants, as offering an opportunity for the delineation of character; of its speeches, as examples of the art of oratory ; of its importance to the plot of the poem. b. Add to the material which you have previously prepared what- ever further information you have gained in regard to the character of Satan, and whatever acts you have observed corroborative of the opinion previously formed. Especially note, for later verification, any indications of a tendency to change or development in the character. c. Amplify your treatment of the subject " Milton's Conception of Hell," employing the materials found in Book II., and enlarging your map to include the regions not mentioned in the previous book. d. Prepare to write on Satajt' ^ Journey iQ _^Earth, treating its purpose (real and pretended), its difficulties and dangers (apparent and actual), its various episodes, its importance to the plot of the poem, its dramatic value as a portion of an epic poem. t''\ 'V.