MILTON a Borrower from modern Poets.
fa doing, tho' he now difowns it, fay-
ing, that his fon was going to the affift-
ance of Madrass, but that it was given
up before he could get thither. Aug.
25 arrived at Mihie three French fhips,
one called the Centurion, of 70 guns, one
of 40, and another of 20 guns, which A
three hips arrived at Pondicherry, Sept.
27, and failed from thence the 24th
inftant; four that came out of Europe
in company with them are faid to be
gone for China.The three fhips ad-
vised above to be failed from Pondicher-
ry are return'd, with two of the difa-
bled fhips, fo that now there are in the
road and offing 5 fhips completelyrigg'd
and five difabled, befides fmall veffels.
Further CHARGE against MILTON.
(See p. 82.)
E have received feveral extracts
W
from the Rev. Mr Andrew Ram- C
fay's POEMATA SACRA, printed at E-
dinburgh, 1633, and dedicated to king
Charles I. fent us by Mr W. L. who
fuppofes that Milton, among other things,
has borrow'd, from this author, his en-
comium on marriage, beginning,
Hail, wedded love, &c.
Thefe extracts being too long for our
book, and Mr L. intending to give
them at large in a feparate work, we
fhall only infert fome of the fhortest, as
a specimen.
MILTON reprefents Satan's malignity against man, and envy at his happiness, as partly arifing from the meannefs of his origin, calling him a man of clay, Ton of defpight, &c.— Ramjay alfo expreffes the fame fentiments.
Nos Genij æterni, coelo quibus ortus ab alto,
Sedibus expulfi ætheriis, loca lucis egena (nas
Incolimus, fine fine damus, proh! vindice poe-
Numine & hic Adam, qui terræ filius, oras
Telluris tenet, & coeli fpe devorat arces.
Siccine nos Genij ruimus? Stat pulvere cretus?
MILTON also represents the Devil as flattering Eve with lofty appellations, fuch as Sovereign of creatures! Univerfal dame! Goddess humane, &c.-RamSAY had done the fame before:
O terræ pelagique potens ! Rerumque fub æthra G
O Regina! poli quæ fceptra capellere digna !
Et Jovæ trifidum moliri fulmen olympo!
Quid terras habitas humiles? Aut fi Dea ter-
Sub ditione tenes, cur terræ excludere fructu?
Qui victum tenuem, pomumque parabile vobis
Invidet,an fuperum dabit ille adcumbere menfis?
Non dabit: etfi adverfa fedet fententia mente,
Heu! te vana fides, & fpes deludit inanis !
Hæc ferpens: non incaffùm, non irrita vento
Verba volant,
(Gent. Mag. APRIL 1747.)
MILTON, after Eve's eating the forbidden fruit, reprefents Nature as confcious of her fault, and dreading its confequence, in these lines :
Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her
feat,
Sighing thro' all her works, gave figns of woe,
That all was loft.
Again, on Adam's repeating the crime:
Earth trembled from her entrails, as again
In pangs, and Nature gave a fecond groan,
Skie lowr'd, and muttering thunder, fome fad
Wept at completing of the mortal fin [drops
Original.
RAMSAY fays to the fame effect:
Tum coelum inlabi, & circum tremere omnia
vifa :
[via luci
Styx, Acheron, Phlegethon, Chaos, & regna in-
Ditis, & horrifono ftridentes cardine portæ
Panduntur, flammafque vomunt, fubitoq; tu..
Tota coit fignis infeftis machina mundi.
multu
And again, on a like occasion:
Ecquid ad hoc coelum non fudas? Terra tre-
mifcis ?
Ora uti Theffalicis Titan contacte venenis
Non palles? mundi non machina tota laboras?
MILTON has also an uncommon and
remarkable fimile, of a fhip's work-
ing into port againft wind, to illu-
ftrate the ferpent's method of addreffing
our firft mother.
With tract oblique
At first (as one who fought accefs, but fear'd
To interrupt) fide-long he works his way:
As when a fhip, by fkilful fteerfman wrought
Nigh river's mouth, or fore-land, where the
Veers oft, as oft fo fteers, and shifts her fails:
So vary'd he, and of his tortuous train
Curl'd many a wanton wreath in fight of Eve,
To lure her eye.
The fame appears in the following lines of Ramlay, with this difference only, that Ramfay applies it to Satan tempting our Saviour.
Ut fanctum pectus non hoc penetrabile telo
Viderit; ut vento portum qui forte reflante
Non potis eft capere, is malos & lintea vela
Carbafeofque finus obliquat, tendere rectâ
Qua nequit, incurvoradit vada cærula curfu:
Sic gnarus verfare dolis, & imag ne falfâ
Ludere Tartareus Coluber, contingere metam
Se non poffe videns primo molimine, curfum
Mutat, & ad palmam converfo tramite tendit.
N. B. The remainder of ADAMUS EXUL (which is extremely fearce) is tranfmitted in M. S. from Leiden, by the learned M. AbraHham Gronovius; and the work of Mafinius, mention'd in January Magazine, is in a large and curious collection of Latin poets, made by the learned and Rev. Wm Thompson, A. M. author of feveral excellent poems, who has very candidly promifed the ufe of it.
The defign of publishing the following specimen of a new tranflation of Taflo's Jerufalem, together with the correspondent part of that poem, as done by Fairfax, is to fhew in the most convincing manner how far this illuftrious author, jo dejervedly ranked with Homer, Virgil and Milton, bas been from meeting with inflice in the only English verfion we yet have. As the ingenious tranflator of this specimen is willing to go through with the fix laft books, and the three firfl are admirably done by Mr Brook, author of Guftavus Vafa, it would be a defireable acceffion to the British poetical treasure, if fome other genius could be found to tranflate the remaining eleven books with equal elegance.
TASSO'S JERUSALEM. Book 16.
Armida having in vain tried every artifice to retain Rinaldo, enraged at her disappointment, diffolves the enchanted palace, and abandons berfelf to refentment and grief."
From the Rev. Mr LAYN G's Tranflation.
"Omeward the wan, and call'd with hideous W
From hell three hundred gloomy deities.
Black gath'ring clouds deforms the face of day,
And heav'ns great planet fick'ning faints away;
From neighb'ring hills the rifing whirlwinds found,
And groans from hell up-heav'd the lab'ring
ground;
The palace rock'd, wild reftlefs dæmons glare,
Some grov'ling hifs, fome bark, fome fcream in air.
When lo a murky fhade, devoid of light,
Caft o'er the dome a melancholy night;
Faint, fulph'rons gleams, frequent flash within,
Difplay'd the horrors of the deep'ning scene;
When now the Sun, a bald and beamless fire,
Glow'd red'ning as the parting clouds retire:
Down funk at once (no ftone to mark its fite)
The fpacious palace, plunging deep in night.
As when in cloud-form'd caftles of the skies
Piles heap'd on piles, a bafelefs fabric, rife,
But by the Sun diffolv'd, or fcatt'ring wind,
The fleeting fhapes leave not a rack behind:
So like a fick man's dream, the vanish'd dome
Left barren rocks and defarts in its room.
Boldly th' enchantress mounts her ready carr,
And more than mortal cleaves the yielding air.
Unfeen, the region of the clouds the past,
Where the raw climate brews the ftormy blaft,
And moulds the hail beneath the wintry zone,
O'er barb'rous tracts, and nations yet unknown.
Swift thro' the Streights, Herculean toil! the
rides,
Where Spain the fea from Africk's coa divides,
Nor ftopp'd her courie, 'till to the Syrian strand
She turned her carr, and hail'd her native land,
From proud Damafcus, whofe imperial height
Afpires to heav'n-averfe the turns her fight,
And to a lonely caftle flew, that flood
In black Afpkaltus' lake, infernal flood!
Deep in a cave, no female fhe admits
Of all her train, alone the penfive fits
All night; but rage at length her filence broke,
And the dank vault re-echo'd as the ipeke.
Here will I reft, 'till Egypt's fultan draws
His eaflern armies to fupport our caufe,
Then, ruling to the field, will act my part
In ev'ry hape of force, or fraud, or it;
Experienc'd chiefs from me fhall learn to throw
Th' unerring dart, or wang the food bow;
And whilft by die reverge I purchat: fame,
• Honour, farewel, then founding empty name!
HEN fhe came home, fhe call'd, with outcries fhrill,
A thoufand devils in limbo deep that wone,
Black clouds the skies with horrid darkness fill,
And pale for dread became th' eclipfed fun,
The whirlwind bluftred big on every hill,
And hell to roar under her feet begun,
You might have heard how thro' the palace wide,
Some fpirits howl'd, fome bark'd, fome hift,
fome cry'd.
A fhadow blacker than the mirkeft night
Environ'd all the plains with dark nefs fad,
Wherein a firebrand gave a dreadful light,
Kindled in hell by Tifiphone the mad;
Vanish'd the fhade, the fun appear'd in fight,
Pale was his beams, the air was nothing glad,
And all the palace vanish'd was and gone,
Nor of fo great a work was left one ftone.
LXIX.
As oft the clouds frame fhapes of caffles great
Amid the air, that little time do last,
But are diffolv'd by wind or Titan's heat,
The palace vanish'd fo, nor in bis feat[plac'd
Left ought, but rocks and crags, by kind there
She in her coach which two old ferpents drew,
Sate down, and as the us'd, away the flew.
LXX.
She broke the clouds, and cleft the yielding fky,
And 'bout her gather'd tempeft,ftorm and wind.
The lands that view the South pole flew the by,
And left thofe unknown countries far behind,
The ftraits of Hercules the pafs'd, which lie
'Twixt Spain and Africk, nor her flight inclin'd
To North or South, but fill did forward ride
O'er feas and ftreams,tillSyria's coafts fhe fpy'd.
LXXI.
Nor went the forward to Damafcus fair,
But of her country dear the fled the fight,
And guided to Aphaltes lake her chair,
Where ftood her calle,there the ends her flight,
And from her damfels far, the made repair
To a deep vault far from refort and light,
Where in fad thoughts a thoufand doubts the
raft,
[laft.
Till grief and frame to wrath gave place at
LXXII.
I will not hence (queth the) till Egypt's lord,
In aid et Sian's king, his hot thall move;
Then will I ufe all helps that charms afford:
Well can I handle bow, or lance, or fword,
The worthies all will aid me for my love:
I feck reveng, and to obtain the fame,
Farewel regard of honour, farewel shame,
Poetical ESSAYS; APRIL 1747.
And thou, ftern guardian of my earliest years,
When some amazing act shall reach thy ears,
Blame not your niece, by her inftructor's fault,
In the foul arts of hellish cunning taught,
And train'd to hardy deeds, that ill became
Our fofter fex, my ruin and my shame.
Let others flow in cold indiff'rence move,
'The brave exceed in anger and in love.'
She faid, and fummon'd up in gay attire,
Fair dames, and pages, knights, and many a fquire
A glitt'ring train! in gaudy harnefs dreis'd,
Which well her fkill and regal pride exprefs'd.
With thefe the furious queen her way pursues,
Untir'd thro' fcorching rays, and midnight dews;
Nor ftopp'd they, 'till the join'd the num'rous
Of eaftern kings, on Gaza's crowded fands.
The FATHER. A TALE.
VARO liv'd a private life,
A And ftarv'd in bondage his wife.
Did fhe too ftarve? To him, at least,
So matters feem'd; but the knew best:
For fhe was plump, hiftorians fay,
And look'd as blithfome as the day:
But that, Avaro understood,
Was from her temper, not her food.
One fon they had, but never more,
Children, thought he, make people poor;
And virtue dwells in felf-denial,
So I'll abitain from farther trial.-
Whether the lady thought the fame,
Or not, is nothing to my theine.
The marriage articles, which faid Madam fhould always have her maid, Were kept from Sujan down to Nan, Till Dick begun to grow a man. Dick was the fon we juft now mention'd; Who, grown a man, inform'd the wench on't; [er, The wench grew fond, as Dick grew boldAnd was convinc'd of what he told her. A lucky girl may grant a favour, Yet keep her character for-ever; But luck was little of Nan's fide: Her failing grew too big to hide. She wept, the fobb'd, was almost wild :"What fhall we do about the child? Poor youth! thy ruin it will be: 'And I-what muft become of me! Caught in this fad dilemma, Dick (Whole faculties were fharp and quick) Concluded thus to fave their bacon:
In father's net it must be taken: Nan, you can wear a lye for once; You know the 'íquire is but a dunce: At worst, his worship may be wrought thought on. Leave that to me (quoth Nan) well Dick whilpers it about the parish: 'God knows the caule! but Nan looks quearish:
Nor let my uncle and protector me
Reprove for this, he most deferves the blame My heart and fex (that weak and tender be)
He bent to deeds, that maidens ill became ; His niece a wand'ring damíel first made he,
He fpurr'd my youth, and I caft off the shame.
His be the fault, if ought 'gainst mine estate
I did for love, or fhall commit for hate.
LXXIV.
This faid, her knights, her ladies, pages, fquires,
She all affembleth, and for journey fit
Infuch fair arms and veftures them attires,
As fhew'd her wealth,and well declar'd her wit;
And forward marched, full of ftrange detires,
Nor refted the by day or night one whit,
Till the came there, where all the Eaftern bands,
Their kings and princes, lay on Gaza's fands.
What fwore the flut?' Avaro cries, (And lifted up his hands and eyes)
My wife can prove my long unfitnefs!Villain (quoth fhe) call me to witness ! 'Yes, letcher, I can witnefs this:
I've now and then a flabb'ring kifs: That's all, thefe twenty years and more: The relt, it feems, was for your whore.' Condemn'd on evidence fo plain, Avaro urg'd his age in vain : A child not his, a jealous wife, Were now the comforts of his life: And may fuch comforts ever be The fruit of fuch frugality.
Another Tranfiation of the Monkish Verses. (Se Vol. XVI. p. 466.) Plebard the merchant here remains confin'd,
Subdu'd by death the ftepdame of mankind, Snatch'd in his youth; 'tis raie fuch victims [buit;
Monks with their wealth, or churches with their
For this returns in grateful pray'rs are giv`n,
To rate his credit in the marts of heav'n. J. S.
A EPIGRAM by the late ingenious Dr BROOME, eccafion'd by fome ridiculors Verjes made by a Phyfician in praise of a deccajed Patient.
Wick at fick man's fumm nsKillman flies Preferibes a dofe of which the patient dies;
Then writes his praife in verfe O! most abfurd! To flay, and then embalm hin-in a t—d.
A fon Altele roïale Monfeigneur le Duc de
Llufir Cumberland, l'honneur de l'Angleterre
En défendant les droits de ton augufte pere,
De l'ennemi commun tu détruis les projets,
Et remplis l'univers du bruit de tes fuccès.
Si dans toi de Céfar tu montres le courage,
Tu n'imites jamais fa fureur et fa rage.
Ce chef ambitieux fit la guerre aux Romains;
Mais toi tu ne combats que pour fauver les tiens.
Quoiqu'un chagrin mortel s'emparât de ton
âme,
Quand dans les païs bas l'on t'apprit qu'un infame
Tâchoit de renverfer le trône de fes rois,
Et marquoit chaque jour par de nouveaux exploits,
Tu nous laiffas pleurer les maux de ta patrie;
Et vins des revoltés réprimer la furie.
Sterling te vit bientôt au pié de fes ramparts:
Stuart, et tous fes clans fuïant tes étendarts,
Courrent fans s'arreter où la peur les emporte:
Tu les pourfuis de près, et les joins à Cullode.
C'est là que la Difcorde, allumant fon flambeau,
Repandit dans leurs coeurs un courage nouveau.
Ils croïoient des Anglois la perte inévitable;
Mais tu les fis tomber fous ta main redoutable.
Que ce jour, Cumberland, fut pour toi glorieux!
Pouvant exterminer ces monftres furieux,
Tu ne voulus point ouir la voix de la vengeance,
Et les obligeas, tous d' admirer ta clémence.
Ainfi de l'Eternel fidele imitateur,
Ton pouvoir éclata par des traits de douceur.
Bourbon notre ennemi te refte encore à vaincre :
A recevoir fon joug il voudroit nous contraindre;
Va de ce prince altier abaiffer la fierté :
Va fur lui des Bretons venger la liberté.
Fais ceffer au plutôt les effects de fa rage,
Er nous délivre tous d'un honteux efclavage.
A Chelmsford le 15eme Mars.
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We with all our masters and miftreffes chear;
And hope we fhall fill your encouragement claim,
Tho' call'd Neufmen on earth, we're the be-
ralds of fame!
Some may think that, like Sarfs, we mind only
While we trudge it to ferve you by night and by
[day:
Yet, truft us, we wish you contented and glad,
And had rather by far bring god tidings than bad,
Our calling, however the vulgar may deem,
Was of old both on bigh and below in efteem
E'en the gods were to much curiofity given,
For Hermes was only the neaufman of heav'n.
Hence with wings to his cap, and his ftaff, and
his beels,
He depictur'd appears, which our myft'ry reveals:
That news flies like the wind-to raile forrow or
laughter,
While trate on time leaning comes heavily after
The Rebellion.
WIlliam! the pride of Britain, while thy
Defend thy father's throne from rude alarms,
Dead-born the common foe's vaft projects fall,
And fame proclaims thy triumphs round the ball.
Bright in thy breaft tho' Cafar's courage thine,
Nor luft of conqueft, nor of blood is thine;
His dire ambition Rome's free fons inflav'd,
By thee, thy Britain is from bondage fav'd.
Tho' touch'd with gen'rous grief, in foreign
lands,
Led by a vagrant chief, to fame unknown,
You heard the defp'rate feats of ruffian bands,
To us you left the weak relief of tears,
Thro' fcenes of rapine to o'erturn the throne,
And flew to fave your country from her fears;
At Stirling fwift as thought thy ftandards rife,
And Charles with terror from thy ftandards flies,
Flies with his clans where fear directs the way,"
Perfu'd to Culloden, a deftin'd prey;
There raving Difcord's horrid torch infpires
Their breafts with rage, and lights up all her fires;
They dream that Britain treads the verge of fate,
Thy thunder wakes them, but they wake too
Great prince! what glory hence thy virtues gain!
late,
Thy mercy fhines while o'er the conquer'd foe
Thy pow'r confpicuous in the hydra flain,
Stern vengeance ftriding you forbid the blow:
Thus heav'n you copy with fublime delight,
To mend you punish, and for peace you fight;
Now Bourbon afks alone thy humbling ftroke,
Who dares infult us with the threaten'd yoke;
Go, teach proud France to ftoop to reafon's laws!
Go, Britain's wrongs avenge and Freedom's
Let vanquish'd tyrants impotently rage,
And give the world a new Saturnian age.
But Hermes himself, tho' both witty and wife,
The inventor of news,-was a devil for lyes!
Whence perhaps is the caufe, all the Journals
Confift of the fabulous mix'd with the true.
we view,
For alarms, which we hope will again ne'er be
Yet we bring you good news, which in part will
You may feaft now in fafety, or merrily dance,
[known;
Young William victorious, who faction fubdu'd,
In fpight of the projects and armies of France.
And crush'd the fell Hydra, that thirfted for
And humble the pride both of France and of
Shall fhine forth abroad this fucceeding campaign,
Spain.
Then when jufiice once more fhall new-ballance
her fcale,
When Flanders is refcu'd, and Europe is freed;
And liberty over ambition prevail;
Till then, may you taste life's untroubled delight,
How glad fhall we bring you the tidings to read.
Rejoice all the day, and repofe all the night:
Poffefs'd of fair freedom, enliven'd by health,
And blefs'd with contentment,-the effence of
Wealth!
Poetical ESSAYS; APRIL 1747.
In Memory of Mr CHUBB.
F e'er rememb'rance of the good was dear,
If injura Virtue claims a grateful tear,
Let my pale ivy on thy urn be laid,
Accept this flender wreath, O blameless shade!
Untainted manners, and a heart fincere,
The faint's ftrict life, without his ghoftly fear,
Were thine, O CHUBB! From hearts so pure
arife
Incense, and thanks, the fweeteft to the skies.
Nor blame, O injur'd fhade! a hapless fate;
Thou fhar't the portion of the learn'd and great.
What tho' no pilgrims mutter o'er thy grave,
Nor long long obfequies are figh'd at eve;
Of thee no priest, before th' empurpled shrine,
Extends his venal palms, and cries divine!
Yet deep in time, the mufe foresees thy fame
Triumphant blaze, and worlds revere thy name.
When envy with thy foes, ungen'rous fry!
In LETHE'S bofom unmoletted lie,
Men, yet unborn, the fair reverfion pay,
And blush for follies of their fathers day.
Ev'n thus, of old, the CHUBB of Athens rofe,
And dar'd the bigots of his age oppose:
Nor cou'd ev'n virtue's felf protect the fage,
A victim doom'd to facerdotal rage.
The crowd then trembling cy'd th'Olympic roads,
Scar'd with a multiplicity of Gods:
Pow'rs ftern, vindictive, petulant, obscene,
Bellow'd in air, or panted on the green.
Alone, the tyrant fhar'd celeftial care,
Some god begot him, on a mortal fair,
And when he dy'd (for gods themselves cou'd die,)
Succeeding priests advanc'd him to the sky.
So noxious vapours, from their nether sphere,
Mount glaring meteors in the realms of air.
'Twas then immortal Socrates arofe;
THE following Lines, being the dictates of a
grateful heart for a fignal deliverance on
April 9, 1747, may not be unacceptable to thofe
perfons who happily experienced the fame.
The author was buried in the Ruins of a Scaffold
on Tower-hill for feveral minutes, during which
time he entirely defpair'd of life.
Eign, gracious God, to hear my feeble lays!
A mortal fings, immortal be the praife,
Thy tribute, due from all whom breath inspires,
From reptile man to feraph's rapt'rous fires.
But can thy goodness reach the loathfome grave ?-
E'en there thou art not impotent to save.
Refcu'd by thee, from death's eternal gloom,
I live-bleft emblem of the life to come!
Free was I counted with the filent dead,
O'erwhelm'd with horror and amazing dread,
The pit had shut its mouth with dreadful found,
And Death, grim tyrant! aim'd the fatal
Thy tender mercies, with the dawning light,
Illum'd my eyes juft clos'd in endless night,
Gave me to life, and living to difplay
Thy providential care from day to day.-
O thou fupremely wife, fupremely good!
Whofe ways are like th' unfathomable flood,
Grant me to celebrate thy glorious name,
Till death diffolves this late-preferved frame:
And when this earth fhall haften to decay,
When feas fhall burn, and mountains melt away,
When funs and ftars in wild confufion hurl'd
Now crush each other, now deftroy a world,
May I refume the facred theme above;
For ever praife thee,and forever love."
Like thine, his love of truth; like thine, his To the Author of the VERSES to the Memory of
Say, now thou know'ft, is blifs referv'd above,
For weeping virtue, or for guileless love?
Or are the brave and good but eas'd of woes,
And only fleep in infinite repofe?
O tell what wonders in the world on high,
What pow'r eternal rules thy native sky;
What mighty hand directs the orb of day,
What awful word ten thousand worlds obey?
And can that being, whofe pervading eye
Scans the immenfe profound, illumes the sky,
All fair perfection, knowledge, light-can he
Be footh'd, perfuaded, or inform'd, by me?
Or tho' whole hecatombs his altars fill,
Blots he the fair prefcription of his will?
But chief infpire thy fix'd ferene of foul,
Which modes, nor times, nor fortune cou'd
controul,
And with a pattern bleft, fo bright, fo near,
Thro' life's fantastic maze, I'll fafely fteer.
Birmingham, April 21, 1747.
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THOMAS CHUBB. (See p. 148.)
Poet! your lines are true and good,
You've ferv'd poor Tom just as you
fhou'd.
Tom was a reas'ner ftrong and blind;
But fay can Tom a reason find,
To plead repeal of his exemption
From what he ne'er approv'd-redemption?
Oh cruel grave! let Tom be freed,
He gladly now wou'd learn his creed,
I'd with poor Tom this happy fate,
But, ah I fear it's too too late,
For Tom beneath relentless duft
Unheeded lies, and lie he must,
Till the great audit in the fkies
Shew who's the fool and who the wife.
On the ATTACK of DUTCH FLANDERS.
T length the fee (what friends ellay'd in
vain)
Will make the fates their fentiments explain.
Stair, Granville, Chefterfield, and CUMBRIA'S
|