Paradise Regain'd : Book II

Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remained

At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen

Him whom they heard so late expressly called

Jesus Messiah, Son of God, declared,

And on that high authority had believed,

And with him talked, and with him lodged—I mean

Andrew and Simon, famous after known,

With others, though in Holy Writ not named—

Now missing him, their joy so lately found,

So lately found and so abruptly gone,                     

Began to doubt, and doubted many days,

And, as the days increased, increased their doubt.

Sometimes they thought he might be only shewn,

And for a time caught up to God, as once

Moses was in the Mount and missing long,

And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels

Rode up to Heaven, yet once again to come.

Therefore, as those young prophets then with care

Sought lost Eliah, so in each place these

Nigh to Bethabara—in Jericho                             

The city of palms, AEnon, and Salem old,

Machaerus, and each town or city walled

On this side the broad lake Genezaret,

Or in Peraea—but returned in vain.

Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek,

Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play,

Plain fishermen (no greater men them call),

Close in a cottage low together got,

Their unexpected loss and plaints outbreathed:—

  "Alas, from what high hope to what relapse               

Unlooked for are we fallen!  Our eyes beheld

Messiah certainly now come, so long

Expected of our fathers; we have heard

His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth.

'Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand;

The kingdom shall to Israel be restored:'

Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turned

Into perplexity and new amaze.

For whither is he gone? what accident

Hath rapt him from us? will he now retire                 

After appearance, and again prolong

Our expectation?  God of Israel,

Send thy Messiah forth; the time is come.

Behold the kings of the earth, how they oppress

Thy Chosen, to what highth their power unjust

They have exalted, and behind them cast

All fear of Thee; arise, and vindicate

Thy glory; free thy people from their yoke!

But let us wait; thus far He hath performed—

Sent his Anointed, and to us revealed him                 

By his great Prophet pointed at and shown

In public, and with him we have conversed.

Let us be glad of this, and all our fears

Lay on his providence; He will not fail,

Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall—

Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence:

Soon we shall see our hope, our joy, return."

  Thus they out of their plaints new hope resume

To find whom at the first they found unsought.

But to his mother Mary, when she saw                       

Others returned from baptism, not her Son,

Nor left at Jordan tidings of him none,

Within her breast though calm, her breast though pure,

Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised

Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad:—

  "Oh, what avails me now that honour high,

To have conceived of God, or that salute,

'Hail, highly favoured, among women blest!'

While I to sorrows am no less advanced,

And fears as eminent above the lot                         

Of other women, by the birth I bore:

In such a season born, when scarce a shed

Could be obtained to shelter him or me

From the bleak air?  A stable was our warmth,

A manger his; yet soon enforced to fly

Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king

Were dead, who sought his life, and, missing, filled

With infant blood the streets of Bethlehem.

From Egypt home returned, in Nazareth

Hath been our dwelling many years; his life               

Private, unactive, calm, contemplative,

Little suspicious to any king.  But now,

Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear,

By John the Baptist, and in public shewn,

Son owned from Heaven by his Father's voice,

I looked for some great change.  To honour? no;

But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold,

That to the fall and rising he should be

Of many in Israel, and to a sign

Spoken against—that through my very soul                 

A sword shall pierce.  This is my favoured lot,

My exaltation to afflictions high!

Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest!

I will not argue that, nor will repine.

But where delays he now?  Some great intent

Conceals him.  When twelve years he scarce had seen,

I lost him, but so found as well I saw

He could not lose himself, but went about

His Father's business.  What he meant I mused—

Since understand; much more his absence now               

Thus long to some great purpose he obscures.

But I to wait with patience am inured;

My heart hath been a storehouse long of things

And sayings laid up, pretending strange events."

  Thus Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind

Recalling what remarkably had passed

Since first her Salutation heard, with thoughts

Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling:

The while her Son, tracing the desert wild,

Sole, but with holiest meditations fed,                   

Into himself descended, and at once

All his great work to come before him set—

How to begin, how to accomplish best

His end of being on Earth, and mission high.

For Satan, with sly preface to return,

Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone

Up to the middle region of thick air,

Where all his Potentates in council sate.

There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy,

Solicitous and blank, he thus began:—                     

  "Princes, Heaven's ancient Sons, AEthereal Thrones—

Daemonian Spirits now, from the element

Each of his reign allotted, rightlier called

Powers of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth beneath

(So may we hold our place and these mild seats

Without new trouble!)—such an enemy

Is risen to invade us, who no less

Threatens than our expulsion down to Hell.

I, as I undertook, and with the vote

Consenting in full frequence was impowered,               

Have found him, viewed him, tasted him; but find

Far other labour to be undergone

Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men,

Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell,

However to this Man inferior far—

If he be Man by mother's side, at least

With more than human gifts from Heaven adorned,

Perfections absolute, graces divine,

And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds.

Therefore I am returned, lest confidence                   

Of my success with Eve in Paradise

Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure

Of like succeeding here.  I summon all

Rather to be in readiness with hand

Or counsel to assist, lest I, who erst

Thought none my equal, now be overmatched."

  So spake the old Serpent, doubting, and from all

With clamour was assured their utmost aid

At his command; when from amidst them rose

Belial, the dissolutest Spirit that fell,                 

The sensualest, and, after Asmodai,

The fleshliest Incubus, and thus advised:—

  "Set women in his eye and in his walk,

Among daughters of men the fairest found.

Many are in each region passing fair

As the noon sky, more like to goddesses

Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet,

Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues

Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild

And sweet allayed, yet terrible to approach,               

Skilled to retire, and in retiring draw

Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets.

Such object hath the power to soften and tame

Severest temper, smooth the rugged'st brow,

Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve,

Draw out with credulous desire, and lead

At will the manliest, resolutest breast,

As the magnetic hardest iron draws.

Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart

Of wisest Solomon, and made him build,                     

And made him bow, to the gods of his wives."

  To whom quick answer Satan thus returned:—

"Belial, in much uneven scale thou weigh'st

All others by thyself.  Because of old

Thou thyself doat'st on womankind, admiring

Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace,

None are, thou think'st, but taken with such toys.

Before the Flood, thou, with thy lusty crew,

False titled Sons of God, roaming the Earth,

Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men,                 

And coupled with them, and begot a race.

Have we not seen, or by relation heard,

In courts and regal chambers how thou lurk'st,

In wood or grove, by mossy fountain-side,

In valley or green meadow, to waylay

Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene,

Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa,

Or Amymone, Syrinx, many more

Too long—then lay'st thy scapes on names adored,

Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan,                         

Satyr, or Faun, or Silvan?  But these haunts

Delight not all.  Among the sons of men

How many have with a smile made small account

Of beauty and her lures, easily scorned

All her assaults, on worthier things intent!

Remember that Pellean conqueror,

A youth, how all the beauties of the East

He slightly viewed, and slightly overpassed;

How he surnamed of Africa dismissed,

In his prime youth, the fair Iberian maid.                 

For Solomon, he lived at ease, and, full

Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond

Higher design than to enjoy his state;

Thence to the bait of women lay exposed.

But he whom we attempt is wiser far

Than Solomon, of more exalted mind,

Made and set wholly on the accomplishment

Of greatest things.  What woman will you find,

Though of this age the wonder and the fame,

On whom his leisure will voutsafe an eye                   

Of fond desire?  Or should she, confident,

As sitting queen adored on Beauty's throne,

Descend with all her winning charms begirt

To enamour, as the zone of Venus once

Wrought that effect on Jove (so fables tell),

How would one look from his majestic brow,

Seated as on the top of Virtue's hill,

Discountenance her despised, and put to rout

All her array, her female pride deject,

Or turn to reverent awe!  For Beauty stands               

In the admiration only of weak minds

Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes

Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy,

At every sudden slighting quite abashed.

Therefore with manlier objects we must try

His constancy—with such as have more shew

Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise

(Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wrecked);

Or that which only seems to satisfy

Lawful desires of nature, not beyond.                     

And now I know he hungers, where no food

Is to be found, in the wide Wilderness:

The rest commit to me; I shall let pass

No advantage, and his strength as oft assay."

  He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim;

Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band

Of Spirits likest to himself in guile,

To be at hand and at his beck appear,

If cause were to unfold some active scene

Of various persons, each to know his part;                 

Then to the desert takes with these his flight,

Where still, from shade to shade, the Son of God,

After forty days' fasting, had remained,

Now hungering first, and to himself thus said:—

  "Where will this end?  Four times ten days I have passed

Wandering this woody maze, and human food

Nor tasted, nor had appetite.  That fast

To virtue I impute not, or count part

Of what I suffer here.  If nature need not,

Or God support nature without repast,                     

Though needing, what praise is it to endure?

But now I feel I hunger; which declares

Nature hath need of what she asks.  Yet God

Can satisfy that need some other way,

Though hunger still remain.  So it remain

Without this body's wasting, I content me,

And from the sting of famine fear no harm;

Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed

Me hungering more to do my Father's will."

  It was the hour of night, when thus the Son             

Communed in silent walk, then laid him down

Under the hospitable covert nigh

Of trees thick interwoven.  There he slept,

And dreamed, as appetite is wont to dream,

Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet.

Him thought he by the brook of Cherith stood,

And saw the ravens with their horny beaks

Food to Elijah bringing even and morn—

Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they brought;

He saw the Prophet also, how he fled                       

Into the desert, and how there he slept

Under a juniper—then how, awaked,

He found his supper on the coals prepared,

And by the Angel was bid rise and eat,

And eat the second time after repose,

The strength whereof sufficed him forty days:

Sometimes that with Elijah he partook,

Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.

Thus wore out night; and now the harald Lark

Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry             

The Morn's approach, and greet her with his song.

As lightly from his grassy couch up rose

Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream;

Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked.

Up to a hill anon his steps he reared,

From whose high top to ken the prospect round,

If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd;

But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw—

Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove,

With chaunt of tuneful birds resounding loud.             

Thither he bent his way, determined there

To rest at noon, and entered soon the shade

High-roofed, and walks beneath, and alleys brown,

That opened in the midst a woody scene;

Nature's own work it seemed (Nature taught Art),

And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt

Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs.  He viewed it round;

When suddenly a man before him stood,

Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad,

As one in city or court or palace bred,                   

And with fair speech these words to him addressed:—

  "With granted leave officious I return,

But much more wonder that the Son of God

In this wild solitude so long should bide,

Of all things destitute, and, well I know,

Not without hunger.  Others of some note,

As story tells, have trod this wilderness:

The fugitive Bond-woman, with her son,

Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief

By a providing Angel; all the race                         

Of Israel here had famished, had not God

Rained from heaven manna; and that Prophet bold,

Native of Thebez, wandering here, was fed

Twice by a voice inviting him to eat.

Of thee those forty days none hath regard,

Forty and more deserted here indeed."

  To whom thus Jesus:—"What conclud'st thou hence?

They all had need; I, as thou seest, have none."

  "How hast thou hunger then?" Satan replied.

"Tell me, if food were now before thee set,               

Wouldst thou not eat?"  "Thereafter as I like

the giver," answered Jesus.  "Why should that

Cause thy refusal?" said the subtle Fiend.

"Hast thou not right to all created things?

Owe not all creatures, by just right, to thee

Duty and service, nor to stay till bid,

But tender all their power?  Nor mention I

Meats by the law unclean, or offered first

To idols—those young Daniel could refuse;

Nor proffered by an enemy—though who                     

Would scruple that, with want oppressed?  Behold,

Nature ashamed, or, better to express,

Troubled, that thou shouldst hunger, hath purveyed

From all the elements her choicest store,

To treat thee as beseems, and as her Lord

With honour.  Only deign to sit and eat."

  He spake no dream; for, as his words had end,

Our Saviour, lifting up his eyes, beheld,

In ample space under the broadest shade,

A table richly spread in regal mode,                       

With dishes piled and meats of noblest sort

And savour—beasts of chase, or fowl of game,

In pastry built, or from the spit, or boiled,

Grisamber-steamed; all fish, from sea or shore,

Freshet or purling brook, of shell or fin,

And exquisitest name, for which was drained

Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast.

Alas! how simple, to these cates compared,

Was that crude Apple that diverted Eve!

And at a stately sideboard, by the wine,                   

That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood

Tall stripling youths rich-clad, of fairer hue

Than Ganymed or Hylas; distant more,

Under the trees now tripped, now solemn stood,

Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades

With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn,

And ladies of the Hesperides, that seemed

Fairer than feigned of old, or fabled since

Of faery damsels met in forest wide

By knights of Logres, or of Lyones,                       

Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore.

And all the while harmonious airs were heard

Of chiming strings or charming pipes; and winds

Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fanned

From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells.

Such was the splendour; and the Tempter now

His invitation earnestly renewed:—

  "What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat?

These are not fruits forbidden; no interdict

Defends the touching of these viands pure;                 

Their taste no knowledge works, at least of evil,

But life preserves, destroys life's enemy,

Hunger, with sweet restorative delight.

All these are Spirits of air, and woods, and springs,

Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay

Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord.

What doubt'st thou, Son of God?  Sit down and eat."

  To whom thus Jesus temperately replied:—

"Said'st thou not that to all things I had right?

And who withholds my power that right to use?             

Shall I receive by gift what of my own,

When and where likes me best, I can command?

I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou,

Command a table in this wilderness,

And call swift flights of Angels ministrant,

Arrayed in glory, on my cup to attend:

Why shouldst thou, then, obtrude this diligence

In vain, where no acceptance it can find?

And with my hunger what hast thou to do?

Thy pompous delicacies I contemn,                         

And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles."

  To whom thus answered Satan, male-content:—

"That I have also power to give thou seest;

If of that power I bring thee voluntary

What I might have bestowed on whom I pleased,

And rather opportunely in this place

Chose to impart to thy apparent need,

Why shouldst thou not accept it?  But I see

What I can do or offer is suspect.

Of these things others quickly will dispose,               

Whose pains have earned the far-fet spoil."  With that

Both table and provision vanished quite,

With sound of harpies' wings and talons heard;

Only the importune Tempter still remained,

And with these words his temptation pursued:—

  "By hunger, that each other creature tames,

Thou art not to be harmed, therefore not moved;

Thy temperance, invincible besides,

For no allurement yields to appetite;

And all thy heart is set on high designs,                 

High actions.  But wherewith to be achieved?

Great acts require great means of enterprise;

Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth,

A carpenter thy father known, thyself

Bred up in poverty and straits at home,

Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit.

Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire

To greatness? whence authority deriv'st?

What followers, what retinue canst thou gain,

Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude,                       

Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost?

Money brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms.

What raised Antipater the Edomite,

And his son Herod placed on Juda's throne,

Thy throne, but gold, that got him puissant friends?

Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive,

Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap—

Not difficult, if thou hearken to me.

Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand;

They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain,                 

While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want."

  To whom thus Jesus patiently replied:—

"Yet wealth without these three is impotent

To gain dominion, or to keep it gained—

Witness those ancient empires of the earth,

In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved;

But men endued with these have oft attained,

In lowest poverty, to highest deeds—

Gideon, and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad

Whose offspring on the throne of Juda sate                 

So many ages, and shall yet regain

That seat, and reign in Israel without end.

Among the Heathen (for throughout the world

To me is not unknown what hath been done

Worthy of memorial) canst thou not remember

Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus?

For I esteem those names of men so poor,

Who could do mighty things, and could contemn

Riches, though offered from the hand of kings.

And what in me seems wanting but that I                   

May also in this poverty as soon

Accomplish what they did, perhaps and more?

Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools,

The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more apt

To slacken virtue and abate her edge

Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.

What if with like aversion I reject

Riches and realms!  Yet not for that a crown,

Golden in shew, is but a wreath of thorns,

Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights,     

To him who wears the regal diadem,

When on his shoulders each man's burden lies;

For therein stands the office of a king,

His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise,

That for the public all this weight he bears.

Yet he who reigns within himself, and rules

Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king—

Which every wise and virtuous man attains;

And who attains not, ill aspires to rule

Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes,                   

Subject himself to anarchy within,

Or lawless passions in him, which he serves.

But to guide nations in the way of truth

By saving doctrine, and from error lead

To know, and, knowing, worship God aright,

Is yet more kingly.  This attracts the soul,

Governs the inner man, the nobler part;

That other o'er the body only reigns,

And oft by force—which to a generous mind

So reigning can be no sincere delight.                     

Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought

Greater and nobler done, and to lay down

Far more magnanimous, than to assume.

Riches are needless, then, both for themselves,

And for thy reason why they should be sought—

To gain a sceptre, oftest better missed."

(line 1): The greatest and indeed justest objection to this poem is the narrowness of its plan, which being confin'd to that single scene of our Saviour's life on earth, his temptation in the desert, has too much of the reasoning and too little of the descriptive part, a defect most certainly in an epic poem, which ought to consist of a proper and happy mixture of the instructive and the delightful. Milton was himself, no doubt, sensible of this imperfection, and has therefore very judiciously contriv'd and introduc'd all the little digressions that could with any sort of propriety connect with his subject, in order to relieve and refresh the reader's attention. The following conversation betwixt Andrew and Simon upon the missing our Saviour so long, with the Virgin's reflections on the same occasion, and the council of the Devils how best to attack their enemy, are instances of this sort, and both very happily executed in their respective ways. The language of the former is not glaring and impassion'd, but cool and unaffected, corresponding most exactly to the humble pious character of the speakers. That of the latter is full of energy and majesty, and not a whit inferior to their most spirited speeches in the Paradise Lost. This may be given as one proof out of many others, that, if the Paradise Regain'd is inferior, as indeed I think it must be allow'd to be, to the Paradise Lost, it cannot justly be imputed, as some would have it, to any decay of Milton's genius, but to his being cramp'd down by a more barren and contracted subject. -Thyer.(line 16: And the great Thisbite....): Or Tishbite as he is called in Scripture, I Kings XVII. 1. Elijah, a native of Thisbe or Tishbe, a city of the country of Gilead, beyond Jordan. "Yet once again to come." For it hath been the opinion of the church, that there would be an Elias before Christ's second coming as well as before his first: and this opinion the learned Mr. Mede supports from the prophecy of Malachi IV. 5. "Behold I will send you Elijah the prophet, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord" &c. : and from what our Saviour says Mat. XVII. 11. "Elias truly shall first come, and restore all things." These words our Saviour spake when John the Baptist was beheaded, and yet speaks as of a thing future, ... 'and shall restore all things.' ut as it was not Elias in person, but only in spirit, who appeared before our Saviour's first coming, so it will also be before his second. The reader may see the arguments at large in Mr. Mede's Discourse XXV. which no doubt Milton had read, not only on account of the fame and excellence of the writer, but as he was also his fellow-collegian. (line 178: Before the flood thou ...): It is to be lamented that our author has so often adopted the vulgar notion of the Angels having commerce with woman, founded upon that mistaken text of Scripture, Gen. VI. 2. "The sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose." See Paradise Lost III. 463. and V. 447. But tho' he seems to favour that opinion, as we may suppose, to embellish his poetry, yet he shows elsewhere that he understood the text rightly, of the sons of Seth, who were the worshippers of the true God, intermarrying with the daughters of wicked Cain.(line 196: Remember the Pellean conqueror...&c): Alexander the Great, who was born at Pella in Macedonia: and his continence and clemency to Darius's queen, and daughters, and the other Persian ladies whom he took captive after the battle at Issus, are commended by the historians. ...And this is the more extraordinary, as he was then a young conqueror of about 23 years of age, "a youth", as Milton expresses it. It would have been happy, if he had behaved with the same moderation in other instances afterwards.(line 299: Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad...): The Tempter is very properly made to change his appearance and habit with the temptation. In the former book, when he came to tempt our Saviour to turn the stones into bread to satisfy their hunger, he appeared as a poor old man "in rural weeds;" but now, when he comes to offer a magnificent entertainment, he is "seemlier clad," and appears as a wealthy citizen or a courtier: and here "with fair speech" he addresses his words, there it was only "with words thus utter'd spake." These lesser particulars have a grace and propriety in them, which is well worthy of the reader's observation.(line 329: ---- those young Daniel could refuse...): Dan. 1. 8. "But Daniel purposed in his heart, that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king's meat, nor with the wine which he drank:" and the reason assign'd by commentators is, because in those and most other countries they used to offer some part of what they eat and drank to their Gods; and therefore Daniel refused to partake of the provisions from the king's table, as of meats offered to idols, and consequently unclean.(line 340: A table richly spread, in regal mode...): This temptation is not recorded in Scripture, but is however invented with great consistency, and very aptly fitted to the present condition of our Saviour. This way of embellishing his subject is a privilege which every poet has a just right to, provided he observes harmony and decorum in his hero's character.(line 344: Gris-amber-stream'd;.....): Ambergris or grey amber is esteemed the best, and used in perfumes and cordials.(line 347: Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast...): The fish are brought to furnish this banquet from all the different parts of the world then known; from Pontus or the Euxine sea in Asia, from the Lucrine bay in Europe in Italy, and from the coast of Africa. And all these places are celebrated for different kinds of fish by the authors of antiquity. It would be almost endless to quote the passages.(line 352: ----- of fairer hueThan Ganymed or Hylas;...): These were two most beautiful youths, and belov'd the one by Jupiter, and the other by Hercules. Ganymed was cup-bearer to Jupiter, and Hylas drew water for Hercules, and therefore they are both properly mention'd upon this occasion.(line 356: --- from Amalthea's horn...): The same as the cornu copiae ; the horn of plenty. Amalthea was, as some say, a Naid, the nurse of Jupiter, who nourish'd him with the milk of a goat, whose horn was afterwards made the horn of plenty; others say, that Amalthea was the name of the goat.(line 423: What rais'd Antipater the Edomite....&c): This appears to be the fact from history. When Josephus introduces Antipater upon the stage, he speaks of him as abounding with great riches. Antiq. Lib. XIV. Cap. 1. And his son Herod was declar'd king of Judea by the favor of Mark Antony, partly for the sake of the Money which he promised to give him.(line 429: Riches are mine, ...&c): This temptation we also owe to our author's invention, and 'tis very happily contriv'd, not only as it leads the reader gradually on to those stronger ones in the following book, but as it is so justly fitted to the character of the Tempter, the prince of Hell, who was supposed by all antiquity to be the king and disposer of riches.(line 453, end. Extol not riches then,...&c): Milton concludes this book and our Saviour's reply to Satan with a series of thoughts as noble and just, or, to say all in one word, as worthy of the speaker as can possibly be imagin'd: and I think one may venture to affirm, that as the Paradise Regain'd is a poem entirely moral and religious, the excellency of which does not consist so much in bold figures and strong images as in deep and virtuous sentiments express'd with a becoming gravity, and a certain decent majesty, this is as true an instant of the sublime as the battles of the Angels in the Paradise Lost. -Thyer.'~ Th. Newton, Milton's Works, 2nd edition, 1753.