there was a logical place for the old myth. But the omission is in harmony with Milton's character. He disliked the idea that human nature is evil from its origin, and had never insisted much on original sin. His natural pride went against it. The essential point to him was the individual fall and regeneration. Hence a greater depth to the question," God of our fathers, what is man?" since man is not corrupt by nature. The anxiety behind the question is more pathetic, more human than in the description of Eve and the apple. This over-simple solution to the riddle of destiny no longer satisfies Milton. He insists, for the first time, on another point of view. Divine justice is no longer the sole cause of man's trials; the education of man is in view. God's hand is heavy, out of all proportion to the fault he punishes, because God, through suffering, accomplishes our inmost education and brings about our regeneration. God deals with individuals as with nations. Milton had learned much through suffering; he hoped England would learn. In the second place, Milton also gives up the idea of salvation through Christ. No allusion, no prophecy on the subject of Christ in Samson, and yet, what a rich and tempting poetical theme was there! But Milton cared little for vicarious atonement. Death settles all accounts; even the just have to die, and that expiates sufficiently. Samson is buried in his victory. Such death is not to be dreaded; it is the final liberation from passion, the ultimate triumph of intelligence, And calm of mind, all passion spent. Lastly, Milton gives up all precision in the idea of God. The last remnants of the doctrine of the Trinity disappear. The Son is not mentioned in Samson. God alone remains, a secret, incomprehensible God, whose ways call forth anxious questionings, and not precise explanations, as in Paradise Lost. The Holy Ghost had long been without an official existence in Milton's doctrine. The ChristSon of God also tends to dissolve; as Son of God, he becomes identical with God, the Creator, whose name he assumes; as Christ, the Savior, he tends to be merely Divine Reason in each of the elect; as Jesus, he fades more and more into mere man. This dispersion of the second person of the Trinity, the most embarrassing for heretics and rationalists, brings Milton near mere deism - or pantheism. But as it becomes less precise, the idea of God becomes greater. For the first time in Milton's work, there appears an element which is lacking in Paradise Lost, the feeling of awe in the presence of God, respectful dread and trust. Thus Milton, in his last work, deliberately gives up, in his attempt to find a solution to the problems of his life and thought, the whole fabric of dogma which had helped him so far. His explanation is now merely psychological, whereas previously the psychology had only run parallel to the dogma. Was not then Milton freer from dogma at the end of his life than is generally supposed? Milton's last poem is a last enigma. The fact obliges us to be very liberal in our interpretation of Milton's religion, and to look for the central fixed point of his thought not in dogma, but in philosophy. Milton is more intimately present in Samson Agonistes than in any of his other poems. Here he put the history of his own life. Did he not put here also the last and best expression of his thought? Being here more human, is he not also more sincere? Here is Milton blind- and, for the first time, complaining: 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, Annulled, which might in part my grief have eased. The sun to me is dark And silent as the moon, When she deserts the night, Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. Since light so necessary is to life, And almost life itself, if it be true She all in every part; why was the sight So obvious and so easy to be quenched?" Here is doubt, at the very core of man. Having so long called to account the great of the earth and the people, and Milton himself, in the name of God, the old prophet turns upon his master, like an old minister remonstrating with his king; and this time, in the name of the great, of the people, of Milton himself, the poet calls God to account: God of our fathers, what is man! That thou towards him with hand so various, Or may I say contrarious, Temper'st thy providence through his short course, Not evenly, as thou rul'st The angelic orders and inferior creatures mute, Why did God allow the Saints to come to complete disaster? 6 Ll. 67-95. 7 Ll. 667-73. Nor do I name of men the common rout, Grow up and perish, as the summer fly, And people's safety, which in part they effect: Amidst their height of noon, Changest thy countenance, and thy hand with no regard Of highest favors past From thee on them, or them to thee of service. Nor only dost degrade them, or remit To life obscured, which were a fair dismission, But throw'st them lower than thou didst exalt them high, Too grievous for the trespass or omission; Oft leav'st them to the hostile sword Of heathen and profane, their carcasses To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived; Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, And Milton's own old age is bitterly described, his illnesses, which his life, made of temperance and dignity, ought not to have brought about; the loss of his fortune even he does not forget: If these they scape, perhaps in poverty, With sickness and disease, thou bow'st them down, Painful diseases and deformed, In crude old age: Though not disordinate, yet causeless suff'ring The punishment of dissolute days. And is this to be the conclusion? in fine, Just or unjust, alike seem miserable, 8 Ll. 674-96. LI. 697-704. Milton has faced the problem of destiny in all its difficulty. Then comes the magnificent episode with Dalila, which marks Samson's triumph over himself. But Milton does not believe as entirely as of old in the solidity of such triumphs; the chorus closes the episode on a doubting and half angry mood.10 Here again Milton is more human, and has looked more closely into human weak ness. But at last, to Samson, purified through suffering and meditation, as the ultimate answer to God, his opportunity of heroic action is offered. A new trait here also: it is not enough for man to attain wisdom for himself; he must help the course of the world, become the instrument of God's will, and act greatly. Again the experience of life had taught Milton something more. Samson's victory is the defeat of the Philistines; they fell through their passions, which blinded them, while his suffering was regenerating Samson. On this conclusion of the whole of his life's patient thought, Milton closes his last, his most poignant poem; "blindness internal" is the cause of all disaster. While their hearts were jocund and sublime, Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, And fat regorged of bulls and goats, Chanting their idol, and preferring Among them He a spirit of frenzy sent, And urged them on with mad desire 10 See above, p. 165. |