many others, that I believe think I have encouraged ⚫ them from my window: But pray let me have your opi❝nion of the use of the window in a beautiful Lady; and 'how often she may look out at the fame man, without being fuppofed to have a mind to jump out to him.

Yours,

Tavice.

Mr. SPECTATOR,

Aurelia Carelefs.

Have for fome time made love to a Lady, who re

Iceived it with all the kind returns I ought to expect:

• But without any provocation, that I know of, fhe has of ⚫ late fhunned me with the utmost abhorrence, infomuch ⚫ that she went out of church laft Sunday in the midst of divine fervice, upon my coming into the fame pew. Pray, Sir, what muft I do in this business?

Mr. SPECTATOR,

WE

York, Jan. 20, 1711-12.

E have in this town a fort of people who pretend to wit, and write lampoons: I have lately 'been the subject of one of them. The scribbler had not genius enough in verfe to turn my age, as indeed I am an old maid, into rallery, for affecting a youthier turn ⚫ than is confiftent with my time of day; and therefore he makes the title of his Madrigal, the character of Mrs. Judith Lovebane, born in the year 1680. What I

6

defire of you is, that you disallow that a coxcomb, who pretends to write verfe, fhould put the most malicious thing he can say in profe. This I humbly con'ceive will disable our country wits, who indeed take a great deal of pains to say any thing in rhyme, though they fay it very ill.

6

I am, SIR,

your bumble fervant,

Sufanna Lovebane,

Mr. SPECTATOR,

WE

E are several of us, Gentlemen and Ladies, who board in the fame house, and after dinner one of our company (an agreeable man enough otherwise) • ftands up and reads your paper to us all. We are the ⚫ civileft people in the world to one another, and therefore 'I am forced to this way of defiring our reader, when he ' is doing this office, not to ftand afore the fire. This will be a general good to our family this cold weather. He will, I know, take it to be our common request ' when he comes to these words, Pray, Sir, fit down; which 'I defire you to infert, and you will particularly oblige Your daily reader,

SIR,

I

Charity Froft.

Am a great lover of dancing, but cannot perform fo well as fome others; however, by my out-of-the-way capers, and fome original grimaces, I do not fail to divert the company, particularly the Ladies, who laugh immoderately all the time. Some, who pretend to be my friends, tell me they do it in derifion, and would advife me to leave it off, withal that I make my felf ridiculous. 'I do not know what to do in this affair, but I am re⚫ folved not to give over upon any account, until I have 'the opinion of the SPECTATOR.

IF

Your bumble fervant,

John Trott.

[F Mr. Trott is not aukward out of time, he has a right to dance let who will laugh: But if he has no car he will interrupt others; and I am of opinion he should fit ftill. Given under my hand this fifth of February,

1711-12.

T

The SPECTATOR.

N° 297

Saturday, February 9.

-velut fi

Egregio infperfos reprendas corpore nævos.

Hor. Sat. 6. lib. 1. ver. 66.

As perfect beauties often have a mole.

A

CREECH.

Fter what I have faid in my laft Saturday's paper,

I fhall enter on the fubject of this without farther preface, and remark the feveral defects which appear in the fable, the characters, the fentiments, and the language of Milten's Paradife Loft; not doubting but the reader will pardon me, if I alledge at the fame time whatever may be faid for the extenuation of fuch defects. The firft imperfection which I fhall obferve in the fable is, that the event of it is unhappy.

The fable of every poem is, according to Aristotle's divifion, either Simple or Implex. It is called fimple when there is no change of fortune in it; Implex, when the fortune of the chief actor changes from bad to good, or from good to bad. The Implex fable is thought the most perfect; I fuppofe, becaufe it is more proper to ftir up the paffions of the reader, and to furprise him with a greater variety of accidents.

The Implex fable is therefore of two kinds; in the first the chief actor makes his way through a long series of dangers and difficulties, until he arrives at honour and profperity, as we fee in the ftory of Ulyffes. In the fecond, the chief actor in the poem falls from fome eminent pitch of honour and profperity, into mifery and difgrace. Thus we fee Adam and Eve finking from a ftate of innocence and happiness, into the moft abject condition of fin and forrow.

The most taking tragedies among the antients, were built on this laft fort of Implex fable, particularly the tra gedy of OEdipus, which proceeds upon a ftory, if we may believe Ariftotle, the moft proper for tragedy that could be

invented

invented by the wit of man. I have taken fome pains in a former paper to fhew, that this kind of Implex fable, wherein the event is unhappy, is more apt to affect an audience than that of the first kind; notwithstanding many excellent pieces among the ancients, as well as most of thofe which have been written of late years in our own country, are raifed upon contrary plans. I must however own, that I think this kind of fable, which is the most perfect in tragedy, is not fo proper for an heroick poem.

Milton feems to have been fenfible of this imperfection in his fable, and has therefore endeavoured to cure it by feveral expedients; particularly by the mortification which the great adversary of mankind meets with upon his return to the affembly of infernal spirits, as it is defcribed in a beautiful paffage of the tenth book; and likewife by the vifion wherein Adam at the clofe of the poem fees his offfpring triumphing over his great enemy, and himself reflored to a happier Paradife than that from which he fell.

There is another objection against Milton's fable, which is indeed almoft the fame with the former, though placed in a different light, namely, That the hero in the Paradife Loft is unfuccefsful,, and by no means a match for his enemies. This gave occafion to Mr. Dryden's reflexion, that the devil was in reality Milton's hero. I think I have obviated this objection in my first paper. The Paradife Loft is an epic or a narrative poem, and he that looks for an hero in it, fearches for that which Milton never intended; but if he will needs fix the name of an hero upon any perfon in it, it is certainly the Meffiah who is the hero, both in the principal action, and in the chief epifodes. Paganism could not furnish out a real action for a fable greater than that of the Iliad or Eneid, and therefore an heathen could not form an higher notion of a poem than one of that kind, which they call an heroick. Whether Milton's is not of a fublimer nature I will not presume to determine: It is fufficient that I fhew there is in the Paradife Loft all the greatnefs of plan, regularity of defign, and masterly beauties which we difcover in Hemer and Virgil.

I must in the next place obferve, that Milton has interwoven in the texture of his fable fome particulars which do not seem to have probability enough for an epic poem, particularly in the actions which he afcribes to Sin and

Death

Death, and the picture which he draws of the Limbo of Vanity, with other paffages in the fecond book. Such allegories rather favour of the spirit of Spenfer and Ariofto, than of Homer and Virgil.

In the ftructure of his Poem he has likewife admitted too many digreffions. It is finely obferved by Ariftotle, that the author of an heroick poem fhould feldom fpeak himself, but throw as much of his work as he can into the mouths of those who are his principal actors. Ariftotle has given no reason for this precept: but I prefume it is because the mind of the reader is more awed and elevated when he hears Eneas or Achilles fpeak, than when Virgil or Homer talk in their own perfons. Besides that affuming the character of an eminent man is apt to fre the imagination, and raise the ideas of the author. Tully tells us, mentioning his dialogue of old age, in which Cato is the chief speaker, that upon a review of it he was agreeably impofed upon, and fancied that it was Cato and not he himself, who uttered his thoughts on that subject.

If the reader would be at the pains to fee how the ftory of the Iliad and the Æneid is delivered by thofe perfons who act in it, he will be surprised to find how little in either of thefe poems proceeds from the authors. Milton has, in the general difpofition of his fable, very finely obferved this great rule; infomuch, that there is scarce a third part of it which comes from the poet; the rest is fpoken either by Adam and Eve, or by fome good or evil fpirit who is engaged either in their deftruction or defence.

From what has been here observed it appears, that digreffions are by no means to be allowed of in an epic poem. If the poet, even in the ordinary courfe of his narration, fhould fpeak as little as poffible, he fhould certainly never let his narration fleep for the fake of any reflexions of his own. I have often obferved, with a fecret admiration, that the longest reflexion in the Eneid is in that paffage of the tenth book, where Turnus is reprefented as dreffing himself in the fpoils of Pallas, whom he had flain. Virgil here lets his fable stand still for the fake of the following remark. How is the mind of man ignorant of futurity, and unable to bear profperous fortune with mederation! The time will come when Turnus fhall wish that he

bad