REMARKS ON SAMSON AGONISTES. THE excellence of this drama, which strictly follows the Greek model, lies principally in its majestic moral strength: the two preceding poems are divine epics; this deals entirely in topics of human nature and human manners. It is not adapted to exhibition on the stage: it is too didactic; and has too few actors and too few incidents. The fable, the characters, the sentiments, and the language are all admirably preserved: the story does not linger, as some have pretended; but goes forward with intense interest to the end. The opening is in the chastest style of poetical beauty. "The breath of heaven fresh-blowing" gives ease to Samson's body, but not to his mind, which, when in solitude and at leisure, agonises his heart with regrets. Nothing can be more pathetic than the comparison of his present fallen state with his early hopes and past glories; and then the reflection that for this change he had no one to blame but himself: O loss of sight, of thee I most complain! Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, And all her various objects of delight Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased, &c. The observations of the Chorus, descriptive of Samson's dejected appearance in this situation, are very fine, contrasted with the recollection of his former mighty actions and triumphs:— O mirrour of our fickle state, Since man on earth unparallel'd, By how much from the top of wondrous glory, Strongest of mortal men, To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art faller. The dialogues between Samson and his father are everywhere supported with force, elevation, and moral wisdom; and the unexampled simplicity of the language in which they are conveyed augments the deep impression which they everywhere make. Perhaps, as a summary of divine dispensations, nothing even in Milton can be found so awful and comprehensive. Then bursts forth, at line 667, that complaint of most deep and stupendous eloquence, beginning, God of our fathers, what is man! Then enters Dalila, with the renewal of all her arts, and coquetries, and false smiles. With what a proud and overwhelming scorn does the hero treat her insidious advances! what a contrast is Dalila to Eve, even when, like Eve to Adam, she affects to own her transgression! Samson exclaims, line 748. Out, out, hyæna! these are thy wonted arts, Then, as repentant, to submit, beseech, And reconcilement move with feign'd remorse, Her husband, how far urged his patience bears, Then with more cautious and instructed skill Again transgresses, and again submits; Are drawn to wear out miserable days, If not by quick destruction soon cut off, As the dialogue goes on, each party speaks in that natural train which leads to the consummation of the tragedy; and with poetic force and plenitude of rich sentiment, which belong to Milton alone. All poetry of a high order is produced by a union of all the best faculties of the mind, and all the noblest emotions of the heart. What is called the understanding, or reason, alone, will produce no poetry at all: even the imagination added to it will not be sufficient, unless there be sentiment and pathos raised by what that imagination presents. To supply the materials of that imagination, there must be observation, knowledge, learning, and memory. In the amalgamation of all these Milton's drama excels. The character of Samson Agonistes is magnificently supported: he speaks always in a tone becoming his circumstances, his position, his sufferings, and his destiny: every thing is grand, animated, natural, and soul-elating. It is a minor sort of poetry to relate things as a stander-by: the author must throw himself into the character of the person represented, and speak in his name. Pope, in his characters of men and women, tells us their several opinions and passions; but these opinions and passions should be uttered by themselves. There is a sympathy we feel with the eloquent relator of his own sorrows, which cannot be raised by the relation of a third person. The character of Manoah, Samson's father, is full of nature and parental affection. The Chorus is everywhere attractive by poetry, moral wisdom, and eloquent pathos. I will not disguise my opinion, that the versifiction of these lyrical parts is occasionally, and only occasionally, inharmonious, abrupt, and harsh; and such as my ear can scarcely reconcile to any sort of metre. The sudden presage which prompted Samson to consent to exhibit himself in the theatre, after the stern reluctance he had previously expressed, is very sublime. The tone of the whole drama is in the highest degree of elevation: the thoughts, sentiments, and words are those of a mental giant. Added to the mighty interest which these create, is the conviction that through the whole the poet has a relation to his own case;-his blindness, his proscription, his poverty, With darkness, and with danger compass'd round; his fortitude, his defiance, his unimpaired strength, his loftiness of soul, his conscious power from the vastness of his intellect, and the firmness of his principles. SIR EGERTON BRYDGES. SAMSON AGONISTES. THE ARGUMENT. BAMSON, made captive, blind, and now in prison at Gaza, there to labour as in a common workhouse, on a festival day, in the general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open air, to a place nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit awhile and bemoan his condition; where he happens at length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, which make the Chorus, who seek to comfort him what they can; then by his old father Manoah, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to procure his liberty by ransom; lastly, that this feast was proclaimed by the Philistines as a day of thanksgiving for their deliverance from the hands of Samson, which yet more troubles him. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philistine lords for Samson's redemption; who in the mean while is visited by other persons, and lastly by a public officer to require his coming to the feast before the lords and people, to play or show his strength in their presence: he at first refuses, dismissing the public officer with absolute denial to come; at length, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to go along with him, who came now the second time with great threatenings to fetch him: the Chorus yet remaining on the place, Manoah returns full of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son's deliverance in the midst of which discourse a Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at first, and afterwards more distinctly, relating the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by accident to himself; wherewith the tragedy ends. SAMSON, (Attendant leading him.) A LITTLE Onward lend thy guiding hand Samson Agonistes, that is, Samson the | Champion, the combatant, from the Greek Ay@viarns, (agonistes) a combatant or athlete at the Public Games. 1. A little onward. Milton, after the example of the Greek tragedians, whom he professes to imitate, opens his drama with introducing one of its principal per sonages explaining the story upon which it is founded.-THYER. The words of this opening are very poetical, beautiful, and affecting.-BRYDGES. Where I, a prisoner, chain'd, scarce freely draw To Dagon their sea-idol, and forbid From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm His godlike presence, and from some great act Design'd for great exploits; if I must die Betray'd, captiv'd, and both my eyes put out, To grind in brazen fetters under task With this heaven-gifted strength? O glorious strength, Lower than bond-slave! Promise was, that I Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 40 Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves, Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke: Divine prediction: what if all foretold Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default, 45 50 10. The breath of heaven. This line and | and his mother both. Of all the wonderthe next are exquisite.-BRYDGES. 21. But rush upon me thronging. The whole of this passage is pathetic, moral, and full of force.-BRYDGES. 24. Twice by an angel. Once to his mother, and again to his father Manoah ful acquirements of Milton, not the least is his astonishingly critical reading and retentive memory of the Scriptures, making every portion of them subservient to his grand and holy designs. 28. And from, that is, and as from. But what is strength without a double share By weakest subtleties; not made to rule, But to subserve where wisdom bears command! 55 60 65 Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 70 And all her various objects of delight Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eased, Inferiour to the vilest now become Of man or worm; the vilest here excel me: They creep, yet see; I, dark in light, exposed 75 In power of others, never in my own; Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 80 Without all hope of day! O first-created Beam, and thou great Word, And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night, Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 75. I, dark in light, &c. In these lines the poet seems to paint himself. The litigation of his will produced a collection of evidence relating to the testator, which renders the discovery of those long-forgotten papers peculiarly interest ing: they show very forcibly, and in new points of view, his domestic infelicity, and his amiable disposition. The tender and sublime poet, whose sensibility and sufferings were so great, appears to have been almost as unfortunate in his daughters as the Lear of Shakspeare. A servant declares in evidence, that her de ceased master, a little before his last marriage, had lamented to her the ingrati He tude and cruelty of his children. complained that they combined to defraud him in the economy of his house, and sold several of his books in the basest manner. His feelings on such an outrage, both as a parent and a scholar, must have been singularly painful: perhaps they suggested to him these very pathetic lines.-HAYLEY. 80. O dark, dark, dark, &c. Few pas sages in poetry are so affecting as this, and the tone of expression is peculiarly Miltonic.-BRYDGES. Indeed there is very extraordinary power of poetry in the whole passage, down to line 109. |