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Trinity College, Cambridge

and we may suppose that he was determined to the choice of this particular subject by the similitude of his own circumstances to those of Samson blind and among the Philistines. This I conceive to be the last of his poetical pieces; and it is written in the very spirit of the ancients, and equals, if not exceeds, any of the most perfect tragedies which were ever exhibited on the Athenian stage, when Greece was in its glory. As this work was never intended for the stage, the division into acts and scenes is omitted. Bishop Atterbury had an intention of getting Pope to divide it into acts and scenes, and of having it acted at Westminster; but his commitment to the Tower put an end to that design. It has since been brought upon the stage in the form of an Oratorio; and Handel's music is never employed to greater advantage, than when it is adapted to Milton's words. That great artist has done equal justice to our author's "L'Allegro" and "Il Penseroso;" as if the same spirit possessed both masters, and as if the god of music and of verse was still one and the same.-NEWTON.

"Samson Agonistes " is but a very indifferent subject for a dramatic fable: however, Milton has made the best of it. He seems to have chosen it for the sake of the satire on bad wives.-WARBURTON.

It would be hardly less absurd to say, that he chose the subject of "Paradise Lost," for the sake of describing a connubial altercation. The nephew of Milton has told us, that he could not ascertain the time when this drama was written; but it probably flowed from {the heart of the indignant poet soon after his spirit had been wounded by the calamitous destiny of his friends, to which he alludes with so much energy and pathos, in the Chorus, v. 652, &c. He did not design the drama for a theatre, nor has it the kind of action requisite for theatrical interest; but in one point of view the "Samson Agonistes" is the most singularly affecting composition that was ever produced by sensibility of heart and vigour of imagination. To give it this particular effect, we must remember, that the lot of Milton had a marvellous coincidence with that of his hero in three remarkable points: first, (but we should regard this as the most inconsiderable article of resemblance) he had been tormented by a beautiful, but disaffectionate and disobedient wife; secondly, he had been the great champion of his country, and as such the idol of public admiration; lastly, he had fallen from that height of unrivalled glory, and had experienced the most humiliating reverse of fortune. In delineating the greater part of Samson's sensations under calamity, he had only to describe his own. No dramatist can have ever conformed so literally as Milton to the Horatian precept, Si vis me flere, &c. and if, in reading the "Samson Agonistes," we observe how many passages, expressed with the most energetic sensibility, exhibit to our fancy the sufferings and real sentiments of the poet, as well as those of his bero, we may derive from this extraordinary composition a kind of pathetic delight, that no other drama can afford; we may applaud the felicity of genius, that contrived, in this manner, to relieve a heart overburdened with anguish and indignation, and to pay a halfconcealed, yet hallowed tribute, to the memories of dear though dishonoured friends, whom the state of the times allowed not the afflicted poet more openly to deplore. - HAYLEY.

Dr. Johnson thought differently about this tragedy, written evidently and happily in the style and manner of Eschylus; and said, "that it was deficient in both requisites of a true Aristotelic middle. Its intermediate parts have neither cause nor consequence, neither hasten nor retard the catastrophe." To which opinion the judicious Mr. Twining accedes. What Dr. Warburton said of it is wonderfully ridiculous, that Milton "chose the subject for the sake of the satire on bad wives ;" and that the subjects of "Samson Agonistes and

Paradise Lost" were not very different.-" the fall of two heroes by a woman. Milton, in this drama, has given an example of every species of measure which the English language is capable of exhibiting, not only in the choruses, but in the dialogue part. The chief parts of the dialogue (though there is a great variety of measure in the choruses of the Greek tragedy) are in iambic verse. I recollect but three places in which hexameter verses are introduced in the Greek tragedies; once in the "Trachinis," once in the "Philoctetes" of Sophocles, and once in the "Troades" of Euripides. Voltaire wrote an opera on this Subject of Samson, 1732, which was set to music by Rameau, but was never performed: he has inserted choruses to Venus and Adonis; and the piece finishes by introducing Samson actually pulling down the temple, on the stage, and crushing all the assembly, which Milton has flung into so fine a narration; and the opera is ended by Samson's saying, “J'ai réparé ma honte, et j'expire en vainqueur." And yet this was the man that dared to deride the irregularities of Shakspeare.-Jos. WARTON.

Of the style of this poem, it is to be observed that it is often inexact and almost ungrammatical; and of the metre, that it is very licentious: both with design and the most con

How died he; death to life is crown or shame.
All by him fell, thou say'st; by whom fell he?
What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound?
Mes. Unwounded of his enemies he fell.

Man. Wearied with slaughter then, or how? explain.
Mes. By his own hands.

Man.

Self-violence? what cause

Brought him so soon at variance with himself

Among his foes?

Mes.

Inevitable cause,

At once both to destroy, and be destroy'd.
The edifice where all were met to see him,
Upon their heads and on his own he pull'd.

Man. O, lastly over-strong against thyself!

A dreadful way thou took'st to thy revenge.

More than enough we know; but while things yet
Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst,
Eye-witness of what first or last was done,

Relation more particular and distinct.

Mes. Occasions drew me early to this city';
And as the gates I enter'd with sunrise,
The morning trumpets festival proclaim'd
Through each high street little I had despatch'd,
When all abroad was rumour'd that this day

Samson should be brought forth to show the people
Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games:
I sorrow'd at his captive state, but minded
Not to be absent at that spectacle.

The building was a spacious theatre

Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high",
With seats, where all the lords, and each degree

Occasions drew me early to this city.

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As I observed before, that Milton had, with great art, excited the reader's attention to this grand event, so here he is no less careful to gratify it by the relation. It is circumstantial, as the importance of it required; but not so as to be tedious, or too long to delay our expectation. It would be found difficult, I believe, to retrench one article without making it defective, or to add one which should not appear redundant. The picture of Samson in particular, "with head inclined and eyes fixed," as if he was addressing himself to that God who had given him such a measure of strength, and was summing up all his force and resolution, has a very fine effect upon the imagination. Milton is no less happy in the sublimity of his description of this grand exploit, than judicious in the choice of the circumstances preceding it. The poetry rises as the subject becomes more interesting; and one may without rant or extravagance say, that the poet seems to exert no less force of genius in describing, than Samson does strength of body in executing.—THYER.

w The building was a spacious theatre

Half-round, on two main pillars vaulted high, &c.

Milton has finely accounted for this dreadful catastrophe, and has with great judgment obviated the common objection. It is commonly asked, how so great a building, containing so many thousands of people, could rest upon two pillars placed so near together; and to this it is answered, that instances are not wanting of far more large and capacious buildings than this, that have been supported only by one pillar. Particularly, Pliny, in the fifteenth chapter of the thirty-sixth book of his "Natural History," mentions two theatres built by one C. Curio, who lived in Julius Caesar's time; each of which was supported only by one

Of sort, might sit in order to behold;

The other side was open, where the throng

On banks and scaffolds under sky might stand;

I among these aloof obscurely stood.

The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice

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Had fill'd their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and wine,

When to their sports they turn'd. Immediately

Was Samson as a publick servant brought,
In their state livery clad; before him pipes
And timbrels, on each side went armed guards,
Both horse and foot, before him and behind,
Archers and slingers, cataphracts and spears.
At sight of him, the people with a shout
Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise,
Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall.
He, patient, but undaunted, where they led him,
Came to the place; and what was set before him,
Which without help of eye might be assay'd,
To heave, pull, draw, or break, he still perform'd
All with incredible, stupendous force;
None daring to appear antagonist.

At length for intermission sake they led him
Between the pillars; he his guide requested
(For so from such as nearer stood we heard)
As over-tired to let him lean awhile

With both his arms on those two massy pillars,

That to the arched roof gave main support.

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pillar, or pin, or hinge, though very many thousands of people did sit in it together. See Poole's "Annotations." Mr. Thyer farther adds, that Dr. Shaw, in his "Travels," observing upon the eastern method of building, says, that the place where they exhibit their diversions at this day is an advanced cloister, made in the fashion of a large penthouse, supported only by one or two contiguous pillars in the front, or else at the centre; and that, upon a supposition therefore, that, in the house of Dagon, there was a cloistered structure of this kind, the pulling down the front or centre pillars only which supported it would be attended with the like catastrophe that happened to the Philistines. See Shaw's "Travels," p. 283.-NEWTON.

* Cataphracts.

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That is, men and horses in armour. Cataphracti equites dicuntur, qui et ipsi ferro muniti sunt, et equos similiter munitos habent." Servius in Virg. Æn. xi. 770. The word had been before employed in English poetry. See Lisle's "Faire Ethiopian," 4to, 1631, p. 150:

The archers follow nimble, and arm'd light:

And after them came other bowes and slings, &c.
His strong phalanges march on either side;
And troopes of cataphracts before him ride.-TODD.

That to the arched roof gave main support.

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Milton, we see, retains, in his last production, his early attachment to this kind of ancient architecture. Thus, in his "Ode Nativ." st. xix. "Runs through the arched roof," &c. again, in "Il. Pens." v. 157," And love the high embowed roof: see also "Par. Lost," b. i. 726, "From the arch'd roof," &c. I must observe, however, that Quarles, in his poetical "Hist. of Samson," relates the same circumstance of the building in which Samson displayed his strength, and fell, edit. 1632, p. 378:

her arched roofe was all Builded with massie stone.-TODD.

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Com are with it an air of negligence, well de comment from falling into vulgarity; and a demo se: but this apology does not Cau: vixch, as a work of delight and las vares, as indeed for the most part it is, into es the secret he has here so success

e Greek tragedians, especially Euripides. The ang ba careless expression, careless van de docs if art. It is on these occasions we may

Summer nais, mas we that dreams.

vans ritical and highly-finished of all

alea's to Samson Agonistes " the Lert M mbodia, still more enamoured of its

Lazy judgment, of all Milton's ani. Prie, of Language, 2d edit. vol. ii. p. 71. excellent piece, to which posterity vers' fame. Perhaps," says this impressive tragedy of Erica,"

Va maferely admire genuine nature and at a disungushed rank: yet surely, we cannot TH: 11 still caviare to the general.””

Bumbum. ↑ Na, 133, 140. Semson Agonistes" as A memnung and an end. He says, "The tragedy sinn a the seerod work of the great author of al te rzhance of triumph to the dramatic performEDs maxims of wisdom, and oracles anerant of choral poetry, in which there Sonyani jedination with the wild enthusiasm of wei- é cezaten, whether a performance, thus mis eposed according to the indisanting at present all other considerations,

anne Amsade himself could not have disipBut sore bathing passes between the first the death of Samson. The whole drama, if rasigeat; yet this is the tragedy which

arnes, of Sunsen Agonistes:' which I have shown the kto wiedge of true criticism. The everlasting the Masts of malignity; nor can sach hem their shoots by looping their luxuriance.” P. Na lil, very properly defends the middle of He comes that the captious critic has misunder

iris, that Simson possesses all the terrific majesty * ISO istress of Elpus, and the pitiable wretchedness TRS Â De of the first, are something above human; his HÉ DE RECAL Ee deriveable from the pleasure of Heaven, and inselta, lks that at the last, is the most abject, which human STREIS of Lumity and splendour.

28, Den NELIS y te remark, that it is of unparalleled majesty and

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TODD has given a copious historical account of this castle, which I shall omit. It had long been the palace of the princes of Wales, and was inhabited by Prince Arthur, eldest son of Henry VII.; it was built by Roger de Montgomery, about 1112. Sir Henry Sidney, when lord president of Wales, expended large sums upon this building. The castle was delivered to the parliament in 1646; the court of marches was afterwards abolished, and the lords presidents discontinued in 1688: from that time the castle fell into decay.

JOHN, EARL OF BRIDGEWATER.

THE family of Egerton is of the most undoubted antiquity, and was one of the first of the rank of commoners in Cheshire, being among the barons of the earl palatine of the county at the Conquest. The Cholmondeleys are from the same male stock: the male line of the eldest branch of the family still survives in Sir Philip de Malpas Egerton, bart. but the founder of the nobility of the Bridgewater branch was lord chancellor Egerton, born about 1540. He was a natural son of Sir Richard Egerton of Ridley, who died 1579, son of Sir Ralph Egerton of Ridley in Cheshire, standard-bearer of England, by an heiress of one of the Bassets of Blore, in the county of Stafford. Sir Thomas Egerton was made solicitor-general, 2nd June, 1581; attorney-general, 2nd June, 1592; master of the rolls, 10th April, 36 Eliz.; lord keeper, 6th May, 1596; created baron of Ellesmere, 21st July, 1603, by king James, and three days afterwards constituted lord high chancellor of England ; advanced to the dignity of Viscount Brackley, 7th November, 1616; and died full of years and honours, at the age of seventy-seven, on the 15th of March, 1617, and was buried at Doddleston, in the county of Cheshire .

This is not the place to enter into a long examination of this celebrated man's public character. The late Francis Henry Egerton, the last Earl of Bridgewater,

* The last heiress of the elder branch of the Bassets of Blore married William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, whose daughter by her married John Egerton, second Earl of Bridgewater. The ancestor of these Bassets married the heiress of the elder branch of the Byrons. In the church of Blore was the brass plate recording this marriage, when I visited that church in autumn 1789.

By some extraordinary neglect, no memorial was erected over this great man's remains, till the present learned, accomplished, and amiable archdeacon Wrangham, the rector of the parish, placed an epitaph at his own expense.

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