Mask. An Allegory is a long Metaphor; and to fpeak too long in Metaphors muft be tirefome, because unnatural. This being premis'd, I muft fay, that in general thofe Fictions, thofe imaginary Beings, are more agreeable to the Nature of Milton's Poem, than to any other; because he hath but two natural Perfons for his Actors, I mean Adam and Eve. A great part of the Action lies in imaginary Worlds, and muft of course admit of imaginary Beings.

Then Sin fpringing out of the Head of Satan, feems a beautiful Allegory of Pride, which is look'd upon as the first Offence committed against God. But I question if Satan, getting his Daughter with Child, is an Invention to be approv'd of. I am afraid that Fiction is but a meer Quibble; for if Sin was of a mafculine Gender in English, as it is in all the other Languages, that whole Affair drops, and the Fiction vanishes away. But fuppofe we are not fo nice, and we allow Satan to be in love with Sin, because this Word is made feminine in English (as Death paffes alfo for mafculine) what a horrid and loathfome Idea does Milton prefent to the Mind, in this Fiction? Sin brings forth Death, this Monster inflam'd with Luft and Rage, lies with his Mother, as fhe had done with her Father.

H 2

From

that

that new Commerce, fprings a Swarm of Serpents, which creep in and out of their Mother's Womb, and gnaw and tear the Bowels they are born from.

Let fuch a Picture be never fo beautifully drawn, let the Allegory be never fo obvious, and fo clear, ftill it will be intolerable, on the account of its Foulnefs. That Complication of Horrors, that Mixture of Inceft, that Heap of Monsters, that Loathfomenefs fo far fetch'd, cannot but fhock a Reader of delicate Tafte.

But what is more intolerable, there are Parts in that Fiction, which bearing no Allegory at all, have no manner of Excufe. There is no Meaning in the Communication between Death and Sin, 'tis diftafteful without any Purpofe; or if any Allegory lies under it, the filthy Abomination of the Thing is certainly more obvious than the Allegory.

I fee with Admiration, Sin, the Portrefs of Hell, opening the Gates of the Abyfs, but unable to fhut them again : That is really beautiful, becaufe 'tis true. But what fignifies Satan and Death quarrelling together, grinning at one another, and ready to fight?

The Fiction of Chaos, Night, and Difcord, is rather a Picture, than an Allegory; and, for ought I know, deferves

to

to be approv'd, because it ftrikes the Reader with Awe, not with Horror.

I know the Bridge built by Death and Sin, would be diflik'd in France. The nice Criticks of that Country would urge against that Fiction, that it seems too common, and that it is ufelefs; for Men's Souls want no paved Way, to be thrown into Hell, after their Separation from the Body.

They would laugh juftly at the Paradife of Fools, at the Hermits, Fryars, Cowls, Beads, Indulgencies, Bulls, Reliques tofs'd by the Winds, at St. Peter's waiting with his Keys at the Wicket of Heaven. And furely the moft paffionate Admirers of Milton, could not vindicate thofe low, comical Imaginations, which belong by Right to Arifto.

Now the fublimeft of all the Fictions calls me to examine it. I mean the War in Heaven. The Earl of Rofcommon, and Mr. Addifon (whofe Judgment feems either to guide, or to juftify the Opinion of his Countrymen) admire chiefly that Part of the Poem. They beftow all the Skill of their Criticifm, and the Strength of their Eloquence, to fet off that favourite Part. I may affirm, that the very Things they admire, would not be tolerated by the French Criticks. The Reader will perhaps fee with Pleasure, in

H 3

what

what confifts fo ftrange a Difference, and what may be the Ground of it.

First, they would affert, that a War in Heaven being an imaginary Thing, which lies out of the Reach of our Nature, should be contracted in two or three Pages, rather than lengthen'd out into two Books; because we are naturally impatient of removing from us the Objects which are not adapted to our Senfes.

According to that Rule, they would maintain, that it is an idle Task to give the Reader the full Character of the Leaders of that War, and to defcribe Raphael, Michael, Abdiel, Moloch, and Nifroth, as Homer paints Ajax, Diomede, and Hector.

For what avails it to draw at length the Piåure of thefe Beings, fo utterly Strangers to the Reader, that he cannot be affected any way towards them? By the fame Reason, the long Speeches of thefe imaginary Warriors, either before the Battle, or in the Middle of the Action, their mutual Infults, feem an injudicious Imitation of Homer.

The aforefaid Criticks would not bear with the Angels plucking up the Mountains, with their Woods, their Waters, and their Rocks, and flinging them on the heads of their Enemies. Such a Contrivance (they would fay) is the

more

more puerile, the more it aims at Greatnefs. Angels arm'd with Mountains in Heaven, refemble too much the Dipfodes in Rabelais, who wore an Armour of Portland Stone fix Foot thick.

The Artillery feems of the fame kind, yet more trifling, because more useless.

To what purpose are these Engines brought in? Since they cannot wound the Enemies, but only remove them from their Places, and make them tumble down: Indeed (if the Expreffion may be forgiven) 'tis to play at Nine-pins. And the very Thing which is fo dreadfully great on Earth, becomes very low and ridiculous in Heaven.

I cannot omit here, the vifible Contradiction which reigns in that Epifode. God fends his faithful Angels to fight, to conquer, and to punish the Rebels. Go (fays he, to Michael and Gabriel)

And to the Brow of Heaven

Pursuing, drive them out from God and Bliss,
Into their Place of Punishment, the Gulph
of Tartarus, which ready opens wide
His fiery Chaos to receive their Fall.

How does it come to pafs, after fuch a pofitive Order, that the Battle hangs doubtful? And why did God the Father command Gabriel and Raphael, to