Changest thy countenance and thy hand, with no regard

Of highest favours past

From thee on them, or them to thee of service.
Nor only doft degrade them, or remit

To life obfcur'd, which were a fair difmiffion,

But throw't them lower than thou didst exalt them

high;

Unfeemly falls in human eye,

Too grievous for the trespass or omiffion!

Oft leav'ft them to the hoftile fword

Of heathen and profane, their carcafes

To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captiv'd;

Or to th' unjuft tribunals under change of times,
And condemnation of th' ungrateful multitude.
If these they scape, perhaps in poverty,

With fickness and disease thou bow'ft them down,
Painful diseases and deform'd,

In crude old age;

Though not difordinate, yet causeless fuff'ring
The punishment of diffolute days.

Warburton was the first, I believe, to remark how exactly these concluding lines defcribe the fituation of the poet himself, afflicted by his lofs of property, and his gout, not caused by intemperance." The fame acute but very unequal critic is by no means fo happy in his obfervation, that Milton seems to have chofen the subject of this fublime drama for the fake of the fatire on bad wives; it would be hardly less abfurd to say, that he chofe the fubject of Paradise Loft for the fake of describing a connubial altercation. The nephew of Milton has told us, that he could not afcertain the time

when

when his 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 fo much energy and pathos. He did not defign the drama for a theatre, nor has it the kind of action requifite for theatrical intereft; but in one point of view the Sampfon Agonistes is the moft fingularly affecting compofition, that was ever produced by fenfibility of heart and vigour of imagination. To give it this peculiar 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 inconfiderable article of resemblance) he had been tormented by a beautiful but difaffectionate and disobedient wife; fecondly, he had been the great champion of his country, and as fuch the idol of public admiration; lastly, he had fallen from that heighth of unrivalled glory, and had experienced the most humiliating reverse of fortune:

His foes' derifion, captive, poor, and blind.

In delineating the greater part of Sampfon's fenfations under calamity, he had only to describe his own. No dramatist can have ever conformed fo literally as Milton to the Horatian precept.

Si vis me flere, dolendum eft

Primum ipfi tibi.

And if, in reading the Sampfon Agoniftes, we obferve how many paffages, expreffed with the most energetic

energetic fenfibility, exhibit to our fancy the fuf. ferings and real fentiments of the poet, as well as thofe of his hero, we may derive from this extraordinary compofition 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 overburthened with anguish and indignation, and to pay a half concealed yet hallowed tribute to the memories of dear though disho, noured friends, whom the state of the times allowed not the afflicted poet more openly to deplore.

The concluding verfes of the beautiful chorus (which I have already cited in part) appear to me particularly affecting, from the perfuafion that Milton, in compofing them, addreffed the two laft immediately to Heaven, as a prayer for himself:

In fine,

Juft or unjust alike feem miferable,

For oft alike both come to evil end.

So deal not with this once thy glorious champion,
The image of thy ftrength, and mighty minifter.
What do I beg? how haft thou dealt already?
Behold him in his ftate calamitous, and turn
His labours, for thou can'ft, to peaceful end.

If the conjecture of this application be juft, we may add, that never was the prevalence of a righteous prayer more happily confpicuous; and let me here remark, that however various the opinions of men may be concerning the merits or demerits of Milton's political character, the integrity of his heart appears to have fecured to him the favour of Providence ;

Providence; fince it pleased the Giver of all good not only to turn his labours to a peaceful end, but to irradiate his declining life with the most abundant portion of thofe pure and fublime mental powers, for which he had conftantly and fervently prayed, as the choiceft bounty of Heaven.

At this period, his kind friend and phyfician, who had proved fo ferviceable to him in the recommendation of an attentive and affectionate wife, introduced to his notice a young reader of Latin, in that fingular character, Thomas Ellwood, the quaker, who has writen a minute hiftory of his own life; a book, which fuggefts the reflection, how ftrangely a writer may fometimes mistake his way in his endeavours to engage the attention of pofterity. Had the honest quaker bequeathed to the world as circumftantial an account of his great literary friend, as he has done of himself, his book would certainly have engroffed no common fhare of public regard: we are indebted to him, however, for his incidental mention of the great poet; and as there is a pleafing air of fimplicity and truth in his narrative, I fhall gratify the reader by inferting it with very little abridgment:

- JOHN MILTON, a gentleman of great note for learning throughout the learned world, having filled a public ftation in former times, lived now a private and retired life in London; and having wholly loft his fight, kept always a man to read to him, which ufually was the fon of fome gentleman of his acquaintance, whom in kindnefs he took to improve in his learning.

"By the mediation of my friend, Ifaac Penington, with Dr. Paget, and of Dr. Paget with John Milton, was I admitted to come to him, not as a fervant to him, which at that time he needed not, nor to be in the house with him, but only to have the liberty of coming to his house at certain hours, when I would, and to read to him what books he should appoint me, which was all the fayour I defired."

Ellwood was at this time an ingenious but undifciplined young man, about three-and-twenty;his father, a justice of Oxfordshire, had taken him, very unfeasonably, from school, with a view to leffen his own expences, and this his younger son, after wafting fome years at home, attached himself, with great fervency, to the fect of quakers. His religious ardour involved him in a long and painful quarrel with his father, and in many fingular adventures— he united with his pious zeal a lively regard for literature ; and being grieved to find that his interrupted education had permitted him to acquire but a flender portion of claffical learning, he anxioufly fought the acquaintance of Milton, in the hope of improving it.

"I went, therefore (fays the candid quaker) and took myself a lodging near to his house, which was then in Jewin-street, as conveniently as I could, and from thence forward went every day in the afternoon, except on the first days of the week, and fitting by him in his dining-room, read to him fuch books in the Latin tongue as he pleased to hear me read.

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