come and entertain them with some proof of his strength. Samson, after a
short expostulation, dismisses him with a firm and resolute refusal;
but, during the absence of the messenger, having a while defended the
propriety of his conduct, he at last declares himself moved by a secret
impulse to comply, and utters some dark presages of a great event to be
brought to pass by his agency, under the direction of Providence:

_Sams_. Be of good courage, I begin to feel
Some rousing motions in me, which dispose
To something extraordinary my thoughts.
I with this messenger will go along,
Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour
Our Law, or stain my vow of Nazarite.
If there be aught of presage in the mind,
This day will be remarkable in my life
By some great act, or of my days the last.

While Samson is conducted off by the messenger, his father returns with
hopes of success in his solicitation, upon which he confers with the
chorus till their dialogue is interrupted, first by a shout of triumph,
and afterwards by screams of horrour and agony. As they stand
deliberating where they shall be secure, a man who had been present at
the show enters, and relates how Samson, having prevailed on his guide
to suffer him to lean against the main pillars of the theatrical
edifice, tore down the roof upon the spectators and himself:

--Those two massy pillars,
With horrible convulsion, to and fro
He tugg'd, he shook, till down they came, and drew
The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder
Upon the heads of all who sat beneath--
Samson, with these immixt, inevitably
Pull'd down the same destruction on himself.

This is undoubtedly a just and regular catastrophe, and the poem,
therefore, has a beginning and an end which Aristotle himself could not
have disapproved; but it must be allowed to want a middle, since nothing
passes between the first act and the last, that either hastens or delays
the death of Samson. The whole drama, if its superfluities were cut off,
would scarcely fill a single act; yet this is the tragedy which
ignorance has admired, and bigotry applauded.

No. 140. SATURDAY, JULY 20, 1751.

--_Quis tam Lucili fautor inepte est,
Ut non hoc fateatur?_ HOR. Lib. i. Sat. x. 2.

What doating bigot, to his faults so blind,
As not to grant me this, can Milton find?

It is common, says Bacon, to desire the end without enduring the means.
Every member of societ