In the Description of Paradise, the Poet has observed Aristotle’s Rule of lavishing all the Ornaments of Diction on the weak unactive Parts of the Fable, which are not supported by the Beauty of Sentiments and Characters. [2] Accordingly the Reader may observe, that the Expressions are more florid and elaborate in these Descriptions, than in most other Parts of the Poem.  I must further add, that tho the Drawings of Gardens, Rivers, Rainbows, and the like dead Pieces of Nature, are justly censured in an Heroic Poem, when they run out into an unnecessary length; the Description of Paradise would have been faulty, had not the Poet been very particular in it, not only as it is the Scene of the Principal Action, but as it is requisite to give us an Idea of that Happiness from which our first Parents fell.  The Plan of it is wonderfully Beautiful, and formed upon the short Sketch which we have of it in Holy Writ.  Milton’s Exuberance of Imagination has poured forth such a Redundancy of Ornaments on this Seat of Happiness and Innocence, that it would be endless to point out each Particular.

I must not quit this Head, without further observing, that there is scarce a Speech of Adam or Eve in the whole Poem, wherein the Sentiments and Allusions are not taken from this their delightful Habitation.  The Reader, during their whole Course of Action, always finds himself in the Walks of Paradise.  In short, as the Criticks have remarked, that in those Poems, wherein Shepherds are Actors, the Thoughts ought always to take a Tincture from the Woods, Fields and Rivers, so we may observe, that our first Parents seldom lose Sight of their happy Station in any thing they speak or do; and, if the Reader will give me leave to use the Expression, that their Thoughts are always Paradisiacal.

We are in the next place to consider the Machines of the Fourth Book.  Satan being now within Prospect of Eden, and looking round upon the Glories of the Creation, is filled with Sentiments different from those which he discovered whilst he was in Hell.  The Place inspires him with Thoughts more adapted to it:  He reflects upon the happy Condition from which he fell, and breaks forth into a Speech that is softned with several transient Touches of Remorse and Self-accusation:  But at length he confirms himself in Impenitence, and in his Design of drawing Man into his own State of Guilt and Misery.  This Conflict of Passions is raised with a great deal of Art, as the opening of his Speech to the Sun is very bold and noble.

  O thou that with surpassing Glory crown’d,
  Look’st from thy sole Dominion like the God
  Of this new World; at whose Sight all the Stars
  Hide their diminish’d Heads; to thee I call,
  But with no friendly Voice, and add thy name,
  O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
  That bring to my Remembrance from what State
  I fell, how glorious once above thy Sphere.