ticipation of them. This additional
satisfaction, from the taste of pleasures in the society of one we love,
is admirably described in Milton, who represents Eve, though in Paradise
itself, no further pleased with the beautiful objects around her, than
as she sees them in company with Adam, in that passage so inexpressibly
charming:

"With thee conversing, I forget all time;
All seasons, and their change; all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After short showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; the silent night,
With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon,
And these the gems of Heaven, her starry train.
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful evening mild; nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet."

The variety of images in this passage is infinitely pleasing; and the
recapitulation of each particular image, with a little varying of the
expression, makes one of the finest turns of words that I have ever
seen: which I rather mention because Mr. Dryden has said, in his preface
to Juvenal, that he could meet with no turn of words in Milton.

It may further be observed, that though the sweetness of these verses
has something in it of a pastoral, yet it excels the ordinary kind, as
much as the scene of it is above an ordinary field or meadow. I might
here, as I am accidentally led into this subject, show several passages
in Milton that have as excellent turns of this nature as any of our
English poets whatsoever; but shall only mention that which follows, in
which he describes the fallen angels engaged in the intricate disputes
of predestination, free-will, and fore-knowledge; and, to humour the
perplexity, makes a kind of labyrinth in the very words that describe
it.

"Others apart sat on a hill retired,
In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high
Of providence, fore-knowledge, will, and fate,
Fixed fate, free-will, fore-kno