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Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray,
Not dissimilar is the justly 428. Who with her radiant finger admired description of evening still'd the roar coming on, Par. Lost, iv. 598. Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, Now came still Evening on, and &c.] twilight gray
This is a very pretty imitation Had in her sober livery all things of a passage in the first Æneid clad.
of Virgil, where Neptune is reWhere see the notes on Milton's presented with his trident layfrequent notice of the twilighting the storm which Æolus had gray. The Roman poets give raised, ver. 142. night a sable or dusky amice. Sic ait, et dicto citius tumida æquora Thus Silius Italicus, xv. 285.
placat, -nox atro circumdata corpus amictu. Collectasque fugat nubes, solemque
reducit. And ibid. xii. 612. And Statius, Thebaid. iii. 415. Virgil also
There is the greater beauty in gives the Naiad Juturna a sort the
the English poet, as the scene of gray amice, whether from the he is describing under this charmgray mists that exhaled from the ing figure is perfectly consistent stream, or the gray willows that
vs that with the course of nature, noshaded its banks.
thing being more common than
to see a stormy night succeeded Jam tum effata caput glauco contexit
by a pleasant serene morning. amictu.
Thyer. Glaucus was nearly gray, since
We have here the ροδοδακτυλος it was the epithet given to the
Hws, the rosy-fingered Aurora of olive tree. Compare the descrip
Homer and Hesiod; but the tion of morning in Homer, il.
image, which in them is only viii. 1. Has agoxoTET105; in Ham
pleasing, is here almost sublime. let, a. i. s. 1.
Dunster. -the morn, in russet mantle clad Walks o'er the dew of yon high
430. And grisly spectres,] Very eastern hill.
injudicious to retail this popular This is the civil-suited morn. Il superstition in this place. WarPenseroso, 122. See also Browne's
burton. Britannia's Pastorals, b. ii. s. 4.
432. And now the sun &c.]
There is in this description all It chanc'd one morn clad in a robe of the he
the bloom of Milton's youthful gray And blushing oft as rising to betray fancy. See an evening scene of Enticed &c.
the same kind in the Paradise Dunster. Lost, ii. 488.
Had cheer'd the face of earth, and dried the wet
As when from mountain tops &c.
Thy choir of birds about thee play, Thyer. And all the joyful world salutes the
rising day. Compare also part of Spenser's
Dunster. Sonnet xl.
435. Who all things now behold) -the fair sunshine in summer's day,
day: Doth not the syntax require, that
D. That when a dreadful storm away is flit,
we should rather read Through the broad world doth spread
Who all things now beheld ? his goodly ray; At sight whereof each bird that sits 449. —in wonted shape,] That on spray,
is, in his own proper shape, and And every beast that to his den was
not under any disguise, as at each fled, Came forth afresh out of their late of the former times when he ap. dismay,
peared to our Lord. He comes And to the light lift up their droop- now hopeless of success, without ing head.
device or disguise, and, as the And the following stanza in poet expressly says, Cowley's Hymn to Lighl ;
Desperate of better course, to vent When, goddess, thou lift'st up thy
his rage waken'd head,
And mad despite to be so oft repelld. Out of the morning's purple bed,
Dunster. VOL. 111
And in a careless mood thus to him said. 450
Fair morning yet betides thee, Son of God, After a dismal night; I heard the wrack
Was distant; and these flaws, though mortals fear them As dang'rous to the pillar'd frame of heaven,
Mr. Dunster may be right in stow the kingdoms of the world, this; but there is perhaps an ob- 155-194. His wonled shape may scurity as to the degree of con- very well therefore be undercealment assumed by Satan at stood of that in which he had different periods in the course of now for so long a time conversed these temptations, which we shall with Jesus. But it may be betin vain endeavour to clear up. ter to leave such matters undeAt first indeed he appears dis- termined. Milton did not disguised as an aged man in rural play any want of judgment, con
seem from v. 498. that he re- of his subject, if he designedly tained that disguise till his dis- left these things unexplained. appearance, at the end of the first E. book. But in the interval he had 453. As earth and sky would answered undisguised,
mingle ;] Virgil, Æn. i. 137. 'Tis true I am that spirit unfor. Jam cælum terranque, meo sine nutunate, &c. b. i. 358.
mine, venti, So again, at his next appearance
Miscere, et tantas audetis tollere
moles ? he stood before Christ as a man, not rustic as before, but seemlier
Richardson. clad, &c. b. ii. 298. yet he ac
454. — these flaws,] See the costs Jesus under his former notes, Par. Lost, x. 698. E. character,
455. As dang'rous to the pillar'd With granted leave officious I re
frame of heaven,] So also in the
Mask, turn, &c. ii. 301.
if this fail, As indeed his super-human The pillar'd firmament is rottenness. power was displayed in the sudden appearance and disap
In both, no doubt, alluding to pearance of the regal banquet. Job XXVI. 11. The pillars of hea337, 401. as well as by his con
ven tremble, and are astonished at
Thyer. veying our Lord to the specular his reproof. mount, and back again through
Ætna is termed by Pindar, the air to the wilderness, b. iii. frst Pyth. Ode, 251, 394. And he had a second --xinn ovgante time openly declared his proper which Mr. West translates, character, when he proposed the The pillar'd prop of heaven. conditions on which he would be
Or to the earth's dark basis underneath, ...
467. Did I not tell thee, &c.] of the pains and dangers which This sentence is dark and per. awaited Jesus, if he persisted in plexed, having no proper exit. rejecting his offered aid, nors at
467. The whole passage, from full age, fulness of time, his season, v. 467 to 483, should be com- when prophecies of him were best pared with the conclusion of the fulfilled. E. previous conversation, v. 368— 478. Many an hard assay] 393, to which Satan manifestly Thus, b. i. 263. refers. It will then be evident
- that my way must lie 1 that the sense of the passage is Through many a hard assay unto sufficiently complete, and that the death. Satan now repeats what he had
.. .. . Dunster. before expressed, his conviction
What I foretold thee, many a hard assay
So talk'd he while the Son of God went on And stay'd not, but in brief him answer'd thus. 485
Me worse than wet thou find'st not; other harm Those terrors which thou speak’st of, did me none; I never fear'd they could, though noising loud And threat'ning nigh; what they can do as signs Betokening, or ill boding, I contemn As false portents, not sent from God, but thee; Who knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, Obtrud'st thy offer'd aid, that I accepting At least might seem to hold all pow'r of thee, Ambitious Spi'rit, and would'st be thought my God, 495 And storm'st refus'd, thinking to terrify Me to thy will; desist, thou art discern’d And toil'st in vain, nor me in vain molest.
To whom the Fiend now swoln with rage replied, Then hear, O Son of David, virgin-born ;
500. Then hear, 0 Son of Du- blasphemous obloquy he still revid, &c.] This last speech of covers himself, and offers with Satan is particularly worthy of his usual art a qualification of our notice. The Fiend “ swoln what he had last said, and a juswith rage" at the repeated failure tification of his persisting in furof his attacks, breaks out into the ther attempts on the divine perlanguage of gross insult, profess- son, by whom he had been so ing to doubt whether our Lord, constantly foiled. These are the whom he had before frequently masterly discriminating touches, addressed as the Son of God, is with which the poet has admirin any way entitled to that ap- ably drawn the character of the pellation. From this wantonly Tempter: the general colouring