BOOK II.
As when from mountain tops, &c.
Line 488.
"The reader loses half the beauty of this charming simile, who does not give particular attention to the numbers. There is a majesty in them not often equalled, and never surpassed, even by this great poet himself; the movement is uncommonly slow; an effect produced by means already hinted at, the assemblage of a greater proportion of long syllables than usual. The pauses are also managed with great skill and judgment; while the clouds rise, and the heavens gather blackness, they fall in those parts of the verse, where they retard the reader most, and thus become expressive of the solemnity of the subject; but in the latter part of the simile, when the sun breaks out, and the scene brightens, they are so disposed as to allow the verse an easier and less interrupted flow, more suited to the cheerfulness of the occasion."
He concludes with the following summary of the great doctrines that form the foundation of the Paradise Lost.
"It may not be amiss, at the close of these admirable speeches—as admirable for their sound divinity as for the perspicuity with which it is expressed—to allow ourselves a moment's pause, for the purpose of taking a short retrospect of the doctrines contained in them. Man, in the beginning, is placed in a probationary state, and made the arbiter of his own destiny. By his own fault, he forfeits happiness, both for himself and his descendants. But mercy interposes for his restoration. That mercy is represented as perfectly free, as vouchsafed to the most unworthy; to creatures so entirely dead in sin as to be destitute even of a sense of their need of it, and consequently too stupid even to ask it. They are also as poor as they are unfeeling; and, were it possible that they could affect themselves with a just sense and apprehension of their lapsed condition, they would have no compensation to offer to their offended Maker, nothing with which they can satisfy the demands of his justice,—in short, no atonement. In this ruinous state of their affairs, and when all hope of reconciliation seems lost for ever, the Son of God voluntarily undertakes for them,—undertakes to become the son of man also, and to suffer, in man's stead, the penalty annexed to his transgression. In consequence of this self-substitution, Christ becomes the federal head of his church, and the sole author of salvation to his people. As Adam's sin was imputed to his posterity, so the faultless obedience of the second Adam is imputed to all, who, in the great concern of justification, shall renounce their own obedience as imperfect and therefore incompetent. The sentence is thus reversed as to all believers: 'Death is swallowed up in victory.' The Saviour presents the redeemed before the throne of the Eternal Father, in whose countenance no longer any symptom of displeasure appears against them, but their joy and peace are thenceforth perfect. The general resurrection takes place; the saints are made assessors with Christ in the judgment, both of men and angels; the new heaven and earth, the destined habitation of the just, succeed; the Son of God, his whole undertaking accomplished, surrenders the kingdom to his Father: God becomes all in all! It is easy to see, that, among these doctrines, there are some which, in modern times, have been charged with novelty; but how new they are Milton is a witness."
Fuseli, whose labours were so unfortunately superseded, completed a series of admirable paintings from subjects furnished by the Paradise Lost; which were afterwards exhibited in London, under the name of the Milton Gallery. He thus acquired a reputation which placed him in the first rank of artists; and the amateur had the opportunity of seeing, in the Shakspeare and Milton galleries, the most distinguished painters engaged in illustrating the productions of the two greatest authors that ever adorned any age or country.[737]
This projected edition of Milton is remarkable as having laid the foundation of the intercourse, which soon ripened into friendship, between Cowper and Hayley. The latter was at that time engaged in writing a life of Milton, which gave rise to his being represented as an opponent of Cowper. To exonerate himself from such an imputation, he wrote the letter which we subjoin in a note.[738]
Having detailed the circumstances connected with the edition of Milton, we return to the regular correspondence.
TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.[739]
Weston, Dec. 10, 1793.
You mentioned, my dear friend, in your last letter, an unfavourable sprain that you had received, which you apprehended might be very inconvenient to you for some time to come; and having learned also from Lady Hesketh the same unwelcome intelligence, in terms still more alarming than those in which you related the accident yourself, I cannot but be anxious, as well as my cousin, to know the present state of it; and shall truly rejoice to hear that it is in a state of recovery. Give us a line of information on this subject, as soon as you can conveniently, and you will much oblige us.
I write by morning candle-light; my literary business obliging me to be an early riser. Homer demands me: finished, indeed, but the alterations not transcribed: a work to which I am now hastening as fast as possible. The transcript ended, which is likely to amount to a good sizeable volume, I must write a new preface: and then farewell to Homer for ever! And if the remainder of my days be a little gilded with the profits of this long and laborious work, I shall not regret the time that I have bestowed on it.
I remain, my dear friend,
Affectionately yours,
W. C.
Can you give us any news of Lord Howe's Armada; concerning which we may inquire, as our forefathers did of the Spanish,—"an in cœlum sublata sit, an in Tartarum depressa?"[740]
The reader may now be anxious to learn some particulars of the projected poem, which has been repeatedly mentioned under the title of The Four Ages; a poem to which the mind of Cowper looked eagerly forward, as to a new and highly promising field for his excursive fancy. The idea had been suggested to him in the year 1791, by his clerical neighbour, Mr. Buchanan, of Ravenstone, a small sequestered village within the distance of an easy walk from Weston. This gentleman, who had occasionally enjoyed the gratification of visiting Cowper, suggested to him, with a becoming diffidence, the project of a new poem on the four distinct periods of life—infancy, youth, manhood, and old age. He imparted his ideas to the poet by a letter, in which he observed, with equal modesty and truth, that Cowper was particularly qualified to relish, and to do justice to the subject; a subject which he supposed not hitherto treated expressly, as its importance deserved, by any poet ancient or modern.
Mr. Buchanan added to this letter a brief sketch of contents for the projected composition. This hasty sketch he enlarged, at the request of Cowper. How the poet appreciated the suggestion will appear from the following billet.