From a passage in this poem, we may discover that the project of some great poetic

ably a very unsuccessful attempt. As it omits, or only suggests a hint of some of the finest passages of the original, it must be pronounced to be imperfect; and while the whole of it is deficient in force, many of its lines are peculiarly weak and distinguished from prose only by the rhyme with which they are closed. Some of the verses however are good; and it may perhaps be placed, with respect to merit, by the side of Dr. Langhorne's translation of the Damon,-another composition which is so luckless as to experience Mr. Hayley's praise.

If I had a right to make so free with my readers time, I would submit to them the whole of Mr. Sterling's version, that they might determine for themselves on its value: but as this must not be done, I will content myself with transcribing one of its passages, premising that the following eight verses are to supply the place of no less than twenty-one beautiful lines of the original, from "Fortunate senex," to " Mulcenturque novo maculosi carmine lynces."

"O happy sage, thy name shall ever live:

Remotest climes the meed of praise shall give;
Wheree'er Torquato shall be haii'd divine;
Wheree'er Marino's growing fame shall shine.
Cinthius himself thy festive board has graced:
The laurell'd Muses round their God were placed:
And wit refined, and manly sense were there;
With bright-eyed fancy, fairest of the fair.

In a note annexed to his translation, Mr. S. has anticipated me in the censure of Mr. Warton's comment on " Mycalen qui natus ad altam;" the erroneousness of which is so palpable as to be obvious to any reader who has passed the threshold of classical literature. Why should Mr. S. falsify the quantity of the penult in Mycale, in the following very poor lines?

"Born near sublime Mycale, history's sire,

Thus paints with eloquence the Homeric lyre."

work, which Milton had formerly intimated to his friend, Deodati, as existing then only in distant and indistinct prospect, was now brought closer and in a more specific form to the poet's sight. The expanding consciousness of his own powers, the commendations of the Italian literati, and, above all perhaps, the conversation and encouraging judgment of the friend of Tasso seem now to have rendered him more resolute in his pursuit of the epic palm and more confident of his success. "I began thus far" (he tells us)" to assent to them," (his Italian intimates,) " and divers of my friends at home, and not less to an inward prompting, which grew daily upon me, that by labour and intent study, (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to aftertimes as they should not willingly let it die."

S

Although, from the example of the Italian poets and from the difficulty of asserting a place even in the second class among those of Rome, he was now determined to employ his native language as the tongue of his poetry, he was not yet decided with respect

s Reasons of C. Govern. P. W. i. 120.

"Time

to its subject or even to its form. serves not," (he says,)" and perhaps I might seem too profuse to give any certain account of what the mind at home, in the spacious circuits of her musing, hath liberty to propose to herself, though of highest hope and hardest attempting: whether that epic form, whereof the two pieces of Homer and those other two of Virgil and Tasso are a diffuse, and the book of Job a brief model; or whether the rules of Aristotle herein are strictly to be kept, or nature to be followed, which in them that know art and use judgment is no transgression but an enriching of art; and lastly, what king or knight before the conquest might be chosen, in whom to lay the pattern of a Christian hero. And as Tasso gave to a prince of Italy his choice, whether he would command him to write of Godfrey's expedition against the infidels or Belisarius against the Goths or Charlemain against. the Lombards, if to the instinct of nature and the imboldning of art aught may be trusted, and that there be nothing adverse in our clime' or the fate of this age, it haply would be no rashness, from an equal dili

In this and in other passages of his various works, Milton seems to attribute to climate an influence over the human intellect, which experience has demonstrated not to exist: and on this

gence and inclination, to present the like offer to our own ancient stories."

The length of time during which his mind had entertained this object, with the difficulty and the reasons which urged him to be sanguine though not assured of its accomplishment, is subsequently stated. "The

thing which I had to say, and those intentions, which have lived within me ever since I could conceive myself any thing worth to my country, I return to crave excuse that urgent reason hath pluckt from me by an abortive and foredated discovery; and the accomplishment of them lies not but in a power above man's to promise: but that none hath by more studious ways endeavoured; and with more unwearied spirit that none shall that I dare almost aver of myself, as far as life and free leisure will extend," &c. &c. "Neither do I think it shame

erroneous opinion Montesquieu, as is generally known, has rested a great part of his system. Climate, otherwise than as in its extremes it may affect the physical and organic nature of man, evidently possesses no ascendency over his mental powers. The differences of the human intellect, regarded with reference to nations, may uniformly be traced to political and moral causes. Wherever man is free and happy,-not oppressed by the iniquity of government or solicitously struggling for the means of subsistence, he will always be found to exult in the full energies of his mind.

to covenant with any knowing reader, that for some few years yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment of what I am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised from the heat of youth or the vapours of wine, like that which flows at waste from the pen of some vulgar amourist or the trencher fury of a rhyming parasite; nor to be obtained by the invocation of dame Memory and her siren daughters; but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases,""&c.

We must surely be struck with that noble and sublime spirit which pervades these passages, and admire that conscious force with that devout diffidence which they exhibit. It may entertain us also to discover from them the very different sensations with which Milton and some of our more modern poets seem to have contemplated the arduous labour of constructing an epic poem. But all the parties on this occasion may be right with reference to their own particular object. After intimating the toils by sea and land,

"Reas, of C, Govern. P. W. i. 123.

M