great Judgment, to make way for several surprizing Accidents in the Sequel of the Poem.  There follows one, at the very End of the first Book, which is what the French Criticks call Marvellous, but at the same time probable by reason of the Passage last mentioned.  As soon as the Infernal Palace is finished, we are told the Multitude and Rabble of Spirits immediately shrunk themselves into a small Compass, that there might be Room for such a numberless Assembly in this capacious Hall.  But it is the Poets Refinement upon this Thought which I most admire, and which is indeed very noble in its self.  For he tells us, that notwithstanding the vulgar, among the fallen Spirits, contracted their Forms, those of the first Rank and Dignity still preserved their natural Dimensions.

  Thus incorporeal Spirits to smallest Forms
  Reduced their Shapes immense, and were at large,
  Though without Number, still amidst the Hall
  Of that Infernal Court.  But far within,
  And in their own Dimensions like themselves,
  The great Seraphick Lords and Cherubim,
  In close recess and secret conclave sate,
  A thousand Demy-Gods on Golden Seats,
  Frequent and full—­

The Character of Mammon and the Description of the Pandaemonium, are full of Beauties.

There are several other Strokes in the first Book wonderfully poetical, and Instances of that Sublime Genius so peculiar to the Author.  Such is the Description of Azazel’s Stature, and of the Infernal Standard, which he unfurls; as also of that ghastly Light, by which the Fiends appear to one another in their Place of Torments.

  The Seat of Desolation, void of Light,
  Save what the glimmring of those livid Flames
  Casts pale and dreadful—­

The Shout of the whole Host of fallen Angels when drawn up in Battel Array: 

 —­The universal Host up sent
  A Shout that tore Hells Concave, and beyond
  Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night.

The Review, which the Leader makes of his Infernal Army: 

 —­He thro the armed files
  Darts his experienc’d eye, and soon traverse
  The whole Battalion mews, their Order due,
  Their Visages and Stature as of Gods. 
  Their Number last he sums; and now his Heart
  Distends with Pride, and hardning in his strength
  Glories—­

The Flash of Light which appear’d upon the drawing of their Swords: 

  He spake:  and to confirm his words outflew
  Millions of flaming Swords, drawn from the thighs
  Of mighty Cherubim; the sudden Blaze
  Far round illumin’d Hell—­

The sudden Production of the Pandaemonium;

  Anon out of the Earth a Fabrick huge
  Rose like an Exhalation, with the Sound
  Of dulcet Symphonies and Voices sweet.

The Artificial Illuminations made in it: 

 —­From the arched Roof
  Pendent by subtle Magick, many a Row
  Of Starry Lamps and blazing Crescets, fed
  With Naphtha and Asphaltus, yielded Light
  As from a Sky—­