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which a painter may have conceived respecting good ones—but little poetry. Men will judge
the lachrymal glands, or the circulation of the and compare; but they will not crcate. They
blood will affect the tears of his Niobe, or the will talk about the old poets, and comment on
blushes of his Aurora. If Shakspeare had them, and to a certain degree enjoy them
written a book on the motives of human ac- ! But they will scarcely be able to conceive the
tions, it is by no means certain that it would effect which poetry produced on their ruder
have been a good one. It is extremely impro- ancestors, the agony, the ecstasy, the plenitude
bable that it would have contained half so of belief. The Greek Rhapsodists, according to
much able reasoning on the subject as is to bc Plato, could not recite Homer without almost
fonnd in the “Fable of the Bees.” But could falling into convulsions.* The Mohawk hardly
Mandeville have created an Iago? Well as he feels the scalping-knife while he shouts his
knew how to resolve characters into their ele- death-song, The power which the ancient
ments, would he have been able to combine bards of Wales and Germany exercised over
those elements in such a manner as to make their auditors seems to modern readers almost
up a man-a real, living, individual man? miraculous. Such feelings are very rare in a

Perhaps no man can be a poet, or can even civilized community, and most rare among
enjoy poetry, without a certain unsoundness those who participare most in its improve-
of mind, if any thing which gives so much ments. They linger longest among the pea-
pleasure ought to be called unsoundness. By santry.
poetry we mean, not of course all writing in Poetry produces an illusion on the eye of the
verse, nor even all good writing in verse. mind, as a magic lantern produces an illusion
Our definition excludes many metrical compo- on the eye of the body. And, as the magic
sitions which, on other grounds, deserve the lantern acts best in a dark room, poetry effects
highest praise. By poetry we mean, the art of its purpose most completely in a dark age.
employing words in such a manner as to pro-As the light of knowledge breaks in upon its
duce an illusion on the imagination: the art of exhibitions, as the outlines of certainly be-
doing by means of words what the painter does come more and more definite, and the shades
by means of colours. Thus the greatest of of probability more and more distinct, the
poets has described it, in lines universally ad- hues and lineaments of the phantoms which it
mired for the vigour and felicity of their dic- calls up grow fainter and fainter. We cannot
tion, and still more valuable on account of the unite the incompatible advantages of reality
just notion which they convey of the art in and deception, the clear discernment of truck
which he excelled.

and the exquisite enjoyment of fiction.
“ As insagination bodies forth

He who, in an enlightened and literary
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen society, aspires to be a great poet, must first
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing become a little child. He must take to pieces
A local habitation and a name."

the whole web of his mind. He must unlearn
These are the fruits of the “fine frenzy” which much of that knowledge which has perhaps
he ascribes to the poet--a fine frenzy doubtless, constituted hitherto his chief title of supe-
but still a frenzy. Truth, indeed, is essential riority. His very talents will be a hinderarice
to poetry; but it is the truth of madness. The to him. His difficulties will be proportioned
reasonings are just; but the premises are false. to his proficiency in the pursuits which are
After the first suppositions have been made, fashionable among his contemporaries; and
every thing ought to be consistent; but those that proficiency will in general be proportioned
first suppositions require a degree of credulity to the vigour and activity of his mind. And
which almost amounts to a partial and tempo- it is well, if, after all his sacrifices and exer-
rary derangement of the intellect. Hence, of tions, his works do not resemble a lisping
all people, children are the most imaginative. man, or a modern ruin. We have seen in our
They abandon themselves without reserve to own time, great talents, intense labour, and
every illusion. Every image which is strongly long meditation, employed in this struggle
presented to their mental eye produces on against the spirit of the age, and employed,
them the effect of reality. No man, whatever we will not say, absolutely in vain, but with
his sensibility may be, .is ever affected by dubious success and feeble applause.
Hamlet or Lear, as a little girl is affected by If these reasonings be just, no poet has
the story of poor Red Riding-nood. She knows ever triumphed over greater difficulties than
that it is all false, that wolves cannot speak, Milton. He received a learned education.
that there are no wolves in England. Yet in He was a profound and elegant classical
spite of her knowledge she believes; she scholar: he had studied all the mysteries of
weeps, she trembles; she dares not go into a Rabbinical literature: he was intimately ac-
dark room lest she should feel the teeth of the quainted with every language of modern Eu-
monster at her throat. Such is the despotism rope, from which either pleasure or information
of the imagination over uncultivated minds. was then to be derived. He was perhaps the

In a rude state of society, men are children only great poet of later times who has been
with a greater variety of ideas. It is there- distinguished by the excellence of his Latin
fore in such a state of society that we may verse. The genius of Petrarch was scarcely
expect to find the poetical temperament in its of the first order; and his poems in the ancient
highest perfection. In an enlightened age language, though much praised by those who
there will be much intelligence, much science, have never read them, are wretched com
much philosophy, abundance of just classifica- positions. Cowley, with all his admirable wit
tion and subtle analysis, abundance of wit and
eloquence, abundance of verses, and even of . See the Dialogue betweea Socrates and to

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and ingenuity, had little imagination; nor nected with them. He electrifies the mind indeed do we think his classical diction com- | through conductors. The most unimaginative parable to that of Milton. The authority of man must understand the Iliad. Homer gives Johnson is against us on this point. But him no choice, and requires from him no exer. Johnson had studied the bad writers of the tion; but takes the whole upon himself, and middle ages till he had become utterly insen- sets his images in so clear a light that it is sible to the Augustan elegance, and was as ill impossible to be blind to them. The works qualified to judge between two Latin styles of Milton cannot be comprehended or enjoyed, as an habitual drunkard to set up for a wine- unless the mind of the reader co-operate with taster.

that of the writer. He does not paint a finished Versification in a dead language is an exotic, picture, or play for a mere passive listener. a far-fetched, costly, sickly imitation of that He sketches, and leaves others to fill up the which elsewhere may be found in healthful outline. He strikes the key-note, and expects and spontaneous perfection. The soils on his hearer to make out the melody. which this rarity flourishes are in general as We often_hear of the magical influence ill suited to the production of vigorous native of poetry. The expression in general means poetry, as the flower-pots of a hot-house to the nothing; but, applied to the writings of Milton, growth of oaks. That the author of the Para- it is most appropriate. His poetry acts like dise Lost should have written the Epistle to an incantation. Its merit lies less in its Manso, was truly wonderful. Never before obvious meaning than in its occult power. were such marked originality and such ex- There would seem, at first sight, to be no more quisite mimicry found together. Indeed, in all in his words than in other words. But they the Latin poems of Milton, the artificial manner are words of enchantment; no sooner are they indispensable to such works is admirably pre- pronounced than the past is present, and the served, while, at the same time, the richness distant near. New forms of beauty start at of his fancy and the elevation of his senti. once into existence, and all the burial places ments give to them a peculiar charm, an air of the memory give up their dead. Change of nobleness and freedom, which distinguishes the structure of the sentence, substitute one them from all other writings of the same class. synonyme for another, and the whole effect is They remind us of the amusements of those destroyed. The spell loses its power: and he angelic warriors who composed the cohort of who should then hope to conjure with it, would Gabriel :

find himself as much mistaken as Cassim in About him exercised heroic games

the Arabian tale, when he stood crying, “Open The unarmed youth of heaven. But o'er their heads Wheat,” “ Open Barley," to the door which Celestial armory, shield, helm, and spear,

obeyed no sound but "Open Sesame !" The Hung bright, with diamond flaming and with gold."

miserable failure of Dryden, in his attempt to We cannot look upon the sportive exercises rewrite some parts of the Paradise Lost, is a for which the genius of Milion ungirds itself, remarkable instance of this. without catching a glimpse of the gorgeous In support of these observations we may and terrible panoply which it is accustomed remark, that scarcely any passages in the to wear. The strength of his imagination poems of Milton are more generally known, triumphed over every obstacle. So intense or more frequently repeated, than those which and ardent was the fire of his mind, that it notare little more than muster rolls of names. only was not suffocated beneath the weight They are not always more appropriate or of its fuel, but penetrated the whole super- more melodious than other names.

But they incumbent mass with its own heat and ra- are charmed names. Every one of them is diance.

the first link in a long chain of associated It is not our intention to attempt any thing ideas. Like the dwelling-place of our infancy like a complete examination of the poetry of revisited in manhood, like the song of our Miiton. The public has long been agreed as country heard in a strange land, they produce to the merit of the most remarkable passages, upon us an effect whvily independent of their the incomparable harmony of the numbers, intrinsic value. One transports us back to a and the excellence of that style which no rival remote period of history. Another places us has been able to equal, and no parodist to among the moral scenery and manners of a degrade, which displays in their highest per- distant country. A third evokes all the dear fection the idiomatic powers of the English classical recollections of childhood, the schooltongue, and to which every ancient and every room, the dog-eared Virgil, the holiday, and modern language has contributed something the prize. A fourth brings before us the of grace, of energy, or of music. In the vast splendid phantoms of chivalrous romance, field of criticism in which we are entering. the trophied lists, the embroidered housings, innumerable reapers have already put their the quaint devices, the haunted forests, the sickles. Yet the harvest is so abundant that enchanted gardens, the achievements of enathe negligent search of a straggling gleaner moured knights, and the smiles of rescued may be rewarded with a sheal.

princesses. The most striking characteristic of the poetry In none of the works of Milton is bis pecuof Milton is the extreme remoteness of the liar manner more happily displayed than in associations, by means of which it acts on the the Allegro and the Penseroso. It is impossireader. Its effect is produced, not so much ble to conceive that she mechanism of language by what it expresses, as by what it suggests, can be brought to a more exquisite degree of not so much by the ideas which it directly perfection. These poems differ from others conveys, as by other ideas which are con as ottar of roses differs from ordinary rose

Fater, the close packed essence from the thin surpassed in energy and magnificence. Sa diluted mixture. They are indeed not so much phocles made the Greek drama as dramatic as poems, as collections of hints, from cach of was consistent with its original form. His which the reader is to make out a poem for portraits of men have a sort of sinilarity; but himself. Every epithet is a text for a canto. it is the similarity not of a painting, but of a

The Comus and the Samson Agonistes are bas-relief. It suggests a resemblance; but it works, which, though of very different merit, does not produce an illusion. Euripides atcfer some marked points of resemblance. tempied to carry the refurm surther. But it They are both Lyric poems in the form of was a task far beyond his powers, perhaps bePlays. There are perhaps no two kinds of yond any powers. Instead of correcting what composition so essentially dissimilar as the was bad, he destroyed what was excellent. He drama and the ode. The business of the dra- substituted crutches for stilts, bad sermons for matist is to keep himself out of sight, and to good odes. let nothing appear but his characters. As Milton, it is well known, admired Euripides soon as he attracts notice to his personal feel- highly; much more highly than, in our opinion, ings, the illusion is broken. The effect is as he deserved. Indeed, the caresses, which this unpleasant as that which is produced on the partiality leads him'io bestow on “sad Elecstage by the voice of a prompter, or the en- ira's poet,” sometimes reminds us of the beautrance of a scene-shifter. Hence it was that tiful Queen of Fairy-land kissing the long ears the tragedies of Byron were his least success of Bottom. At all events, there can be no sul performances. They resemble those paste- doubt that this veneration for the Athenian, board pictures invented by the friend of child whether just or not, was injurious to the Samren, Mr. Newberry, in which a single movable son Agonistes. Had he taken schylus for head goes around twenty different bodies; so his model, he would have given himself up to that the same face looks out upon us succes- the lyric inspiration, and poured out profusely sively, from the uniform of a hussar, the furs all the treasures of his mind, without bestow. of a judge, and the rags of a beggar. In all ing a thought on those dramatic proprieties the characters, patriots and tyrants, haters and which the nature of the work rendered it imlovers, the frovn and sneer of Harold were possible to preserve. In the attempt to recondiscernible in an instant. But this species of cile things in their own nature inconsistent, he egotism, though fatal to the drama, is the inspi- has failed, as every one must have failed. We ration of the ode. It is the part of the lyric cannot identify ourselves with the characters, poe: to abandon himself, without reserve, to his as in a good play. We cannot identify ourown emotions.

selves with the poet, as in a good ode. The Between these hostile elements many great conflicting ingredients, like an acid and an men have endeavoured to effect an amalgama. alkali mixed, neutralize each other. We are tion, but never with complete success. The by no means insensible to the merits of this Greek drama, on the model of which the Sam- celebrated piece, to the severe dignity of the son was written, sprung from the Ode. The style, the graceful and pathetic solemnity of dialogue was ingrafted on the chorus, and the opening speech, or the wild and barbaric naturally partook of its character. The genius melody which gives so striking an effect to the of the greatest of the Athenian dramatists co-choral passages. But we think it, we confess, operated with the circumstances under which the least successful effort of the genius of tragedy made its first appearance. Æschylus. Milton. was, head and heart, a lyric poet. In his time, The Comus is framed on the hodel of the the Greeks had far more intercourse with the Italian Masque, as the Samson is framed on East than in the days of Homer; and they had the model of the Greek Tragedy. It is, cernot yet acquired that immense superiority in tainly, the noblest performance of the kind war, in science, and in the arts, which, in the which exists in any language. It is as far sufollowing generation, led them to treat the perior to the Faithful Shepherdess, as the Asiatics with contempt. From the narrative Faithful Shepherdess is to the Aminta, or the of Herodotus, it should seem that they still. Aminta to the Pastor Fido. It was well for looked up, with the veneration of disciples, to Milton that he had here no Euripides to misEgypt and Assyria. At this period, accord. lead him. He understood and loved the literaingly, it was natural that the literature of ture of modern Italy. But he did not feel for Greece should be tinctured with the Oriental it the same veneration which he entertained style. And that style, we think, is clearly for the remains of Athenian and Roman poetry, discernible in the works of Pindar and Eschy- consecrated by so many lofty and endearing las. The latter often reminds us of the He- recollections. The faults, moreover, of his brew writers. The book of Job, indeed, in Italian predecessors were of a kind to which conduct and diction, bears a considerable re- his mind had a deadly antipathy. He could semblance to some of his dramas. Considered stoop to a plain style, sometimes even to a bald as plays, his works are absurd: considered as style; but false brilliancy was his utter aver. choruses, they are above all praise. If, for sion. His Muse had no objection to a russet instance, we examine the address of Clytem- attire; but she turned with disgust from the nestra to Agamemnon on his return, or the de- finery of Guarini, as tawdry, and as palıry as scription of the seven Argive chiefs, by the the rags of a chimney-sweeper on May-day: principles of dramatic writing, we shall in- Whatever ornaments she wears are of massive stantly condemn them as monstrous. But, if gold, not only dazzling to the sight, but capable we forget the characters, and think only of the of standing the severest test of the crucible. poelry, we shall admit that it has never been Miiton attended in the Comus to the distinc

kon which he neglected in the Samson. He be compared with the Paradise Lost, is the made it what it ought to be, essentially lyrical, Divine Comedy. The subject of Milton, in and dramatic only in semblance. He has not some points, resembled that of Dante; but he attempted a fruitless struggle against a defect has treated it in a widely different manner. inherent in the nature of that species of com- We cannot, we think, better illustrate our position; and he has, therefore, succeeded, opinion respecting our own great poet, than wherever success was not impossible. The by contrasting him with the father of Tuscan speeches must be read as majestic soliloquies; literature. and he who so reads them will be enraptured The poetry of Milton differs from that of with their eloquence, their sublimity, and their Dante, as the hieroglyphics of Egypt differed music. The interruptions of the dialogue, from the picture-writing of Mexico. The however, impose a constraint upon the writer, images which Dante employs speak for them. and break the illusion of the reader. The selves :-they stand simply for what they are. finest passages are those which are lyric in Those of Milton have a signification which is form as well as in spirit. "I should much often discernible only to the initiated. Their commend,” says the excellent Sir Henry Wot- value depends less on what they directly re. ton, in a letter to Milton, “the tragical part, if present, than on what they remotely suggest the lyrical did not ravish me with a certain However strange, however grotesque, may be dorique delicacy in your songs and odes, where the appearance which Dante undertakes to deanto, I most plainly confess to you, I have seen scribe, he never shrinks from describing it. yet nothing parallel in our language.” The He gives us the shape, the colour, the sound, criticism was just. It is when Milton escapes the smell, the taste : he counts the numbers; from the shackles of the dialogue, when he is he measures the size. His similes are the ildischarged from the labour of uniting two in- lustrations of a traveller. Unlike those of other congruous styles, when he is at liberty to in- poets, and especially of Milton, they are introdulge his choral raptures without reserve, that duced in a plain, business-like manner; not he rises even above himself. Then, like his for the sake of any beauty in the objects from own Good Genius, bursting from the earthly which they are drawn, not for the sake of any form and weeds of Thyrsis, he stands forth in ornament which they may impart to the poem, celestial freedom and beauty; he seems to cry but simply in order to make the meaning of the exultingly,

writer as clear to the reader as it is to himself. “Now my task is smoothly done,

The ruins of the precipice which led from the I can fly, or I can run,”

sixth to the seventh circle of hell, were like to skin the earth, to soar above the clouds, to those of the rock which fell into the Adige on bathe in the Elysian dew of the rainbow, and the south of Trent. The cataract of Phlege. to inhale the balmy smells of nard and cassia, thon was like that of Aqua Cheta at the mo which the musky winds of the zephyr scatter nastery of St. Benedict. The place where the through the cedared alleys of the Hesperides.* heretics were confined in burning tombs re

There are several of the minor poems of sembled the vast cemetery of Arles ! Milton on which we would willingly make a Now, let us compare with the exact details few remarks. Still more willingly would we of Dante the dim intimations of Milton. We enter into a detailed examination of that ad- will cite a few examples. The English poet mirable poem, the Paradise Regained, which has never thought of taking the measure of strangely enough, is scarcely ever mentioned,Satan. He gives us merely a vague idea of except as an instance of the blindness of that vast bulk. In one passage the fiend lies parental affection which men of letters bear stretched out, huge in length, floating many a towards the offspring of their intellects. That rood, equal in size to the earth-born enemies Milton was mistaken in preferring this work, of Jove, or to the sea-monster which the mariexcellent as it is, to the Paradise Lost, we

ner mistakes for an island. When he ad. must readily admit. But we are sure that the dresses himself to battle against the guardian superiority of the Paradise Lost to the Para- angels, he stands like Teneriffe or Atlas; his dise Regained is not more decided than the stature reaches the sky. Contrast with these superiority of the Paradise Regained to every descriptions the lines in which Dante has depoem which has since made its appearance. scribed the gigantic spectre of Nimrod. “His But our limits prevent us from discussing the face seemed to me as long and as broad as the point at length. We hasten on to that extraor- ball of St. Peter's at Rome; and his other limbs dinary production, which the general suffrage were in proportion; so that the bank, which of critics has placed in the highest class of concealed him from the waist downwards, buman compositions.

nevertheless showed so much of him, 'that The only poem of modern times which can three tall Germans would in vain have ar

tempted to reach his hair." We are sensible "There eternal summer dwells,

that we do no justice to the admirable style of And west winds with musky wing,

the Florentine poet. But Mr. Cary's translaAbout the cedared alleys fling Nard and cassia's baliay smells :

tion is not at hand, and our version, however Iris there with bumid bów

rude, is sufficient to illustrate our meaning. Waters the odoro!is banks, that blow

Once more, compare the lazar-house, in the
Flowers of more mingled hue
Than her purfled scarf can show,

eleventh book of the Paradise Lost, with the And drenches with Elysian dew,

last ward of Malebolge in Dante. Milton avoids (Llat, mortals, if your cars be true,)

the loathsome details, and takes refuge in inBeds of hyacinths and roses, Where young Adonis oft reposes,

distinct, but solemn and tremendous imageryWaxing well of ala deep wound."

Despair hurrying from couch to couch, to mock the wretches with his attendance: Death shak- / portion of spirit with which we are best ac ing his dart over them, but in spite of suppli- quainted? We observe certain phenomena. cations, delaying to strike. What says Dante? We cannot explain them into inaterial causes. “There was such a moan there as there would We therefore inser that there exists something be if all the sick, who, between July and Sep, which is not material. But of this something tember, are in the hospitals of Valdichiana, we have no idea. We can define it only by and of the Tuscan swamps, and of Sardinia, negatives. We can reason about it only by were in one pit together; and such a stench symbols. We use the word, but we have no was issuing forth as is wont to issue from de- image of the thing: and the business of poetry cayed limbs."

is with images, and not with words. The poet We will not take upon ourselves the invi- uses words indeed; but they are merely the dious office of settling precedency between two instruments of his art, not its objects. They such writers. Each in his own department is are the materials which he is to dispose in incomparable; and each, we may remark, has, such a manner as to present a picture to the wisely or fortunately, taken a subject adapted mental eye. And, if they are not so disposed, to exhibit his peculiar talent to the greatest they are no more entitled to be called poetry, advantage. The Divine Comedy is a personal than a bale of canvass and a box of colours narrative. Dante is the eye-witness and ear- are to be called a painting. witness of that which he relates. He is the Logicians may reason about abstractions; very man who has heard the tormented spirits but the great mass of mankind can never feel crying out for the second death; who has read an interest in them. They must have images. the dusky characters on the portal, within The strong tendency of the multitude in all which there is no hope ; who has hidden his ages and nations to idolatry can be explained face from the terrors of the Gorgon; who has on no other principle. The first inhabitants filed from the hooks and the seething pitch of of Greece, there is every reason to believe, Barbariccia and Diaghignazzo. His own hands worshipped one invisible Deity. But the nehave grasped the shaggy sides of Lucifer. His cessity of having something more definite to own feet have climbed the mountain of expia- adore produced, in a few centuries, the innution. His own brow has been marked by the merable crowd of gods and goddesses. In like purifying angel. The reader would throw aside manner the ancient Persians thought it imsuch a tale in incredulous disgust, unless it pious to exhibit the Creator under a human were told with the strongest air of veracity, form. Yet even these transferred to the sun with a sobriety even in its horrors, with the the worship which, speculatively, they consigreatest precision and multiplicity in its de- dered due only to the Supreme mind. The tails. The narrative of Milton in this respect history of the Jews is the record of a continual differs from that of Dante, as the adventures struggle between pure Theism, supported by of Amidas differ from those of Gulliver. The the most terrible sanctions, and the strangely anthor of Amidas would have made his book fascinating desire of having some visible and ridiculous if he had introduced those minute tangible object of adoration. Perhaps none particulars which give such a charm to the of the secondary causes which Gibbon has as work of Swift, the nautical observations, the signed for the rapidity with which Christianity affected delicacy about names, the official do- spread over the world, while Judaism scarcely cuments transcribed at full length, and all the ever acquired a proselyte, operated more powerunmeaning gossip and scandal of the court, fully than this feeling. God, the uncreated, springing out of nothing, and tending to no- the incomprehensible, the invisibie, attracted thing. We are not shocked at being told that few worshippers. A philosopher might admire a man who lived, nobody knows when, saw so noble a conception; but the crowd turned many very strange sights, and we can easily away in disgust from words which presented abandon ourselves to the illusion of the ro- no image to their minds. It was before Deity, mance. But when Lemuel Gulliver, surgeon, embodied in a human form, walking among Dow actually resident at Rotherhithe, tells us men, partaking of their infirmities, leaning on of pigmies and giants, flying islands and phi-their bosoms, weeping over their graves, slum. losophizing horses, nothing but such circum- bering in the manger, bleeding on the cross, stantial touches could produce, for a single that the prejudices of the Synagogue, and the moment, a deception on the imagination. doubts of the Academy, and the pride of the

Of all the poets who have introduced into Portico, and the fasces of the lictor, and the their works the agency of supernatural beings, swords of thirty legions, were humbled in the Milton has succeeded best. Here Dante de- dust! Soon after Christianity had achieveä its cidedly yields to him. And as this is a point triumph, the principle which had assisted it on which many rash and ill-considered judg- began to corrupt. It became a new paganism ments have been pronounced, we feel inclined Patron saints assumed the offices of household to dwell on it a little longer. The most fatal gods. St. George took the place of Mars. St. error which a poet can possibly commit in the Elmo consoled the mariner for the loss of Casmanagement of his machinery, is that of attempt tor and Pollux. The Virgin Mother and Cicilia ing to philosophize too much. Milton has been succeeded to Venus and the Muses. The fasoften censured for ascribing to spirits many cination of sex and loveliness was again joined functions of which spirits must be incapable to that of celestial dignity; and the homage of But these objections, though sanctioned by chivalry was blended with that of religion. eminent names, originate, we venture to say, Reformers have often made a stand against in profound ignorance of the art of poetry. these feelings; but never with more than ap.

What is spirit? What are our own minds, the parent and partial success. The men who ie

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