224 
glimpse of its numerous arguments. 
It was originally intended to disprove 
the doctrine of necessity; but the clas- 
sical learning of the author led him to 
treat his subject more like a school- 
man than a philosopher, and few will 
be found in the present day to follow 
him, or even his reviewer, through the 
dogmas of hylozoic and atomic Athe- 
ism, and the hypothesis of a plastic 
nature. Ii is singular enough that the 
learned doctor, who applied his great 
talents and erudition to disprove the 
theories of Atheism, and to sup- 
port the Christian religion, was him- 
self charged with being a Deist, and 
even an Atheist ; a fate which he, how- 
ever, shares in common with other 
pious men, who have fairly investi- 
gated the grounds of natural religion. 
Such is the blind rage of bigotry and 
intolerance, that by merely venturing 
to state the question as to the being 
and attributes of the Deity, for the 
very purpose of affirming them, the 
unfortunate philosopher incurs the 
obloquy of adopting the doctrines 
which he denies. Im the eyes of ge- 
nuine orthodoxy, even argument, how- 
ever sound and favourable, is an of- 
fence; and an enquirer, however de- 
vout, is an enemy. 
Much commendation is bestowed in 
the fourth paper upon the Poems of 
Thomas Randolph, which unquestion- 
ably possess great merit, and are fully 
entitled to the prominent station which 
the good taste of the reviewer assigns 
to them. The least exceptionable of 
his pieces, in point of decorum, (for in 
this virtue he was sometimes deticient,) 
and by far the most vigorous and ori- 
ginal, is the ‘“‘ Muses’ Looking-glass,” 
on which alone he may rest his fame. 
The extremes of all the passions are 
contrasted, in a dramatic form, with 
their opposites, and are touched upon 
with a degree of force and humour 
which have not been often surpassed. 
In the argument of the Epicure, we 
are reminded of one of the finest pas- 
sages in Comus, to which it may pro- 
bably have afforded some hints, and 
with which it will bear a comparison. 
Nature has been bountiful 
To provide pleasures, and shall we be niggards 
At plenteous boards? He’s a discourteous guest 
That will observe a diet at a feast : 
When Nature thought the earth alone too little 
To find us meat, and therefore stor’d the air 
With winged creatures; not contented yet, 
She made the water fruitful, to delight us.— 
Did she do this to have us eat with temperance? 
Or when she gave so many different odours 
Of spices, unguents, and all sorts of flowers, 
She ery’d not, ‘Stop your noses :” would She give us 
So swect a choir of wing’d musicians, 
>) y 
“ ' 
: 
The Philosophy of Contemporary Criticism, No. XXV. {Oct. 1, 
To have us deaf? Or when she plac’d us here, 
Here in a paradise, where such pleasing prospects, 
So many ravishing colours, entice the eye, 
Was it to have us wink? When she bestow’d 
So powerful faces, such commanding beauties, 
On many glorious nymphs, was it to say, 
Be chaste and continent? Not to enjoy 
All pleasures, and at full, were to make Nature 
Guilty of that she ne’er was guilty of,— 
A vanity in her works. 
—Milton must have been acquainted 
with these lines; and we are rather 
surprised the coincidence escaped the 
reviewer. It is enough to say, that 
the whole composition is supported 
with the same spirit, and abounds with 
entertainment and instruction. It 
deserves to be re-edited, and to be 
generally known. 
The works of Milton, whether in 
prose or verse, have long since passed 
the ordeal of criti¢ism, and can receive 
no accession to their publicity and 
fame. But his History of Britain, 
continued to the Norman Conquest, 
which ‘supplies the subject of the fifth 
article, being merely a fragment, and 
treating for the most part of a fabu- 
lous era, neither has been nor will be 
frequently referred to. It is chiefly 
valuable for the vigour of its style, 
and the manly and characteristic sen- 
timents which flow from the noble mind 
ofits author on every suitable occasion. 
It cannot be sufficiently lamented that 
his genius was not employed on some 
more important period of history, and, 
above all, of his own times; which, 
however, he appears obliquely to de- 
cline in a striking passage, where he 
remarks, “with a just loathing and 
disdain,”—not altogether inapplicable 
to more modern circumstances,—* not 
only how unworthy, how perverse, 
how corrupt, but often how ignoble, 
how petty, how below all history, the 
persons and the actions were, who 
either by fortune, or some rude elec- 
tion, had attained, as a sore judg- 
ment and ignominy upon the land, to 
have chief sway in managing the com- 
monwealth.” Milton was proud, and 
knew well that he “had laid his just 
hands on that golden key,” which 
opens the portals of fame ; and he was 
unwilling, by any act of his, to make 
them more accessible to men and 
deeds only deserving of contempt and 
oblivion. The historian of the com- 
monwealth he could not be; and he 
would never have stooped to be that 
of Charles the Second. 
A very entertaining account ensues 
of Mr. Amgry’s Memoirs, containing 
the Lives if several Ladies of Great 
Britain; and we cordially coneur - 
a 
