disgraced his work with the Paradise of Fools; a fiction not in
itself ill-imagined, but too ludicrous for its place.

His play on words, in which he delights too often; his
equivocations, which Bentley endeavours to defend by the example of
the ancients; his unnecessary and ungraceful use of terms of art; it
is not necessary to mention, because they are easily remarked, and
generally censured; and at last bear so little proportion to the
whole, that they scarcely deserve the attention of a critic.

Such are the faults of that wonderful performance "Paradise Lost;"
which he who can put in balance with its beauties must be considered
not as nice but as dull, as less to be censured for want of candour
than pitied for want of sensibility.

Of "Paradise Regained," the general judgment seems now to be right,
that it is in many parts elegant, and everywhere instructive. It
was not to be supposed that the writer of "Paradise Lost" could ever
write without great effusions of fancy, and exalted precepts of
wisdom. The basis of "Paradise Regained" is narrow; a dialogue
without action can never please like a union of the narrative and
dramatic powers. Had this poem been written not by Milton, but by
some imitator, it would have claimed and received universal praise.

If "Paradise Regained" has been too much depreciated, "Samson
Agonistes" has, in requital, been too much admired. It could only
be by long prejudice, and the bigotry of learning, that Milton could
prefer the ancient tragedies, with their encumbrance of a chorus, to
the exhibitions of the French and English stages; and it is only by
a blind confidence in the reputation of Milton that a drama can be