stranger, by a single word which he affectedly made use of in expressing him. self. The common people got the tragedies of Euripides by heart. The genius of every nation expresses itself in the people's manner of passing their time, and in their pleasures. The great employment and delight of the Athenians were to amuse themselves with works of wit, and to judge of the dramatic pieces that were acted by public authority several times a year, especially at the feasts of Bacchus, when the tragic and comic poets disputed for the prize. The former used to present four of their pieces at a time, except Sophocles, who did not think fit to continue so laborious an exercise, and confined himself to one performance when he disputed the prize. The state appointed judges, to determine upon the merit of the tragic or comic pieces, before they were represented in the festivals. They were acted before them in the presence of the people, but undoubtedly with no great preparation. The judges gave their suffrages, and that performance which had the most voices was declared victorious, received the crown as such, and was represented with all possible pomp at the expense of the republic. This did not, however, exclude such pieces as were only in the second or third class. The best had not always the preference; for what times have been exempt from party, caprice, ignorance, and prejudice? Ælian is very angry with the judges, who in one of these disputes, gave only the second place to Euripides. He accuses them of judging either without capacity or of suffering themselves to be bribed. It is easy to conceive the warmth and emulation which these disputes and public rewards excited among the poets, and how much they contributed to the perfection to which Greece carried scenic performances. The dramatic poem introduces the persons themselves, speaking and acting upon the stage in the epic, on the contrary, the poet only relates the dif ferent adventures of his characters. It is natural to be delighted with fine descriptions of events, in which illustrious persons, and whole nations are interested; and hence the epic poem had its origin. But we are quite differently affected with hearing those persons themselves, with being confidants of their most secret sentiments, and auditors and spectators of their resolutions, enterprises, and the happy or unhappy events attending them. To read and see an action are quite different things. We are infinitely more moved with what is acted, than with what we merely read. Our eyes, as well as our minds, are addressed at the same time. The spectator agreeably deceived by an imitation so nearly approaching life, mistakes the picture for the original, and thinks the object real. This gave birth to dramatic poetry, which includes tragedy and comedy. To these may be added the satyric poem, which derives its name from the satyrs, rural gods, who were always the chief characters in it, and not from the satire, a kind of abusive poetry, which has no resemblance to this, and is of a much later date. The satyric poem was neither tragedy nor comedy, but something between both, participating of the character of each. The poets who disputed the prize, generally added one of these pieces to their tragedies, to allay the gravity and solemnity of the one, with the mirth and pleasantry of the other. There is but one example of this ancient poem come down to us, which is the Cyclops of Euripides. I shall confine myself upon this head, to tragedy and comedy, both which had their origin among the Greeks, who looked upon them as fruits of their own growth, of which they could never have enough. Athens was remarkable for an extraordinary appetite of this kind. These two poems, which were for a long time comprised under the general name of tragedy, received there by degrees such improvements as at length raised them to the highest perfection. *ttica anus Theophrastum, hominem alioqui disertissimum, annotata unius affectatione verbi, hospitera dixit ut. i. vii. c. 1. tlian. 1. ii. c. 8. 61 THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF TRAGEDY.-POETS WHO EXCELLED IN IT AT ATHENS; ESCHYLUS, SOPHOCLES, AND EURIPIDES. THERE had been many tragic and comic poets before Thespis; but as they had made no alteration in the original rude form of this poem, and as Thespis was the first that made any improvement in it, he was generally esteemed its inventor. Before him, tragedy was no more than a jumble of buffoon tales in the comic style, intermixed with the singing of a chorus in praise of Bacchus ; for it is to the feasts of that god, celebrated at the time of the vintage, that tragedy owes its birth. La tragédie, informe et grossiere en naissant, A simple chorus, rather mad than wise; Wild mirth and wine sustain'd the frantic note, And the best singer had the prize, a goat. Thespis made several alterations in it, which Horace describes after Aristotle, in his Art of Poetry. The first was to carry his actors about in a cart, whereas before, they used to sing in the streets, wherever chance led them. Another was, to have their faces smeared over with wine-lees, instead of acting without disguise, as at first. He also introduced a character among the chorus, who, to give the actors time to rest themselves and to take breath, repeated the adventures of some illustrious person; which recital at length gave place to the subjects of tragedy. Thespis fut le premier, qui barbouillé de lie, And as his tawdry actors drove about, The sight was new and charmed the gaping rout. Thespis lived in the time of Solon. That wise legislator, upon seeing his pieces performed, expressed his dislike, by striking his staff against the ground; apprehending that these poetical fictions, and idle stories, from mere theatrical representations, would soon become matters of importance, and have too great a share in all public and private affairs. He It is not so easy to invent, as to improve the inventions of others. The alterations Thespis made in tragedy gave room for Eschylus to make new and more considerable ones of his own. He was born at Athens in the first year of the sixteenth Olympiad. He took upon him the profession of arms, at a time when the Athenians reckoned almost as many heroes as citizens. was at the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Platea, where he did his duty. But his disposition called him elsewhere, and put him upon entering into another course, where no less glory was to be acquired, and where he was soon without any competitors. T As a superior genius, he took upon him to reform, 1 or rather to create tragedy anew; of which he has, in consequence, been aways acknowledged the inventor and father. Father Brumoi, in a dissertation which abounds with wit and good sense, explains the manner in which Eschylus conceived the true idea of tragedy from Homer's epic poems. That poet himself used to say, that his works were only copies in relievo of Homer's draughts, in the Iliad and Odyssey. Tragedy, therefore, took a new form under him. He gave masks to his actors, adorned them with robes and trains, and made them wear buskins. Instead of a cart he created a theatre of moderate extent, and entirely changed their style; which from being merry and burlesque, as at first, became majestic and serious. * Eschyle dans le chœur jetta les personages; But that was only the external part or body of tragedy. Its soul, which was the most important and essential addition of Eschylus, consisted in the vivacity and spirit of the action, sustained by the dialogue of the persons of the drama introduced by him; in the artful working up of the stronger passions, especially of terror and pity, that, by alternately afflicting and agitating the soul with mournful or terrible objects, produce a grateful pleasure and delight from that very trouble and emotion; in the choice of a subject, great, noble, interesting, and contained within the true bounds by the unity of time, place, and action; in fine, it is the conduct and disposition of the whole piece, which by the order and harmony of its parts, and the happy connexion of its incidents and intrigues, holds the mind of the spectator in suspense till the catastrophe, and then restores him his tranquillity, and dismisses him with satisfaction. The chorus had been established before Eschylus, as it composed alone, or next to alone, what was then called tragedy. He did not, therefore, exclude it, but, on the contrary, thought fit to incorporate it, to sing as chorus between the acts. Thus it supplied the interval of resting, and was a kind of person of the drama, employed either in giving useful counsels and salutary instructions, in espousing the part of innocence and virtue, in being the depository of secrets, and the avenger of violated religion, or in sustaining all those characters at the same time, according to Horace. The coryphæus, or principal person of the chorus, spoke for the rest. In one of Eschylus's pieces, called the Eumenides, the poet represents Orestes at the bottom of the stage, surrounded by the furies, laid asleep by Apollo. Their figure must have been extremely horrible, as it is related, that upon their waking, and appearing tumultuously on the theatre, where they were to act as a chorus, some women miscarried with the surprise, and several children died of the fright. The chorus at that time consisted of fifty actors. After this accident it was reduced to fifteen, by an express law, and at length to twelve. I have observed, that one of the alterations made by Eschylus in tragedy, was the mask worn by the actors. These dramatic masks had no resemblance to ours, which only cover the face, but were a kind of case for the whole head, and which, besides the features, represented the beard, the hair, the ears, and even the ornaments used by women in their head-dresses. masks varied according to the different pieces that were acted. They are treated of at large in a dissertation of M. Boindin's, inserted in the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres.* These I could never comprehend, as I have observed elsewhere,† in speaking of pronunciation, how masks came to continue so long upon the stage of the ancients; for certainly they could not be used, without considerably flattening the spirit of the action, which is principally expressed in the countenance, the seat and mirror of what passes in the soul. Does it not often happen, that the blood, according to its being put in motion by different passions, sometimes covers the face with a sudden and modest blush, sometimes enflames it with the heat of rage and fury, sometimes retires, leaving it pale with fear, and at others, diffuses a calm and amiable serenity over it? All these affections are strongly imagined and distinguished in the lineaments of the face. The mask deprives the features of this energy of language, and of that life and soul by which it is the faithful interpreter of all the sentiments of the heart. I do not wonder, therefore, at Cicero's remark upon the action of Roscius. "Our ancestors," says he, "were better judges than we are. They could not wholly approve even of Roscius himself, while he performed in a mask."‡ Eschylus was in the sole possession of the glory of the stage, with almost every voice in his favour, when a young rival made his appearance to dispute the palm with him. This was Sophocles. He was born at Colonos, a town in Attica, in the second year of the 71st Olympiad. His father was a blacksmith, or one that kept people of that trade to work for him. His first essay was a masterpiece. When, upon the occasion of Cymon having found the bones of Theseus, and their being brought to Athens, a dispute between the tragic poets was appointed, Sophocles entered the lists with Eschylus, and carried the prize against him. The ancient victor, laden till then with the wreaths he had acquired, believed them all lost by failing of the last, and withdrew in disgust into Sicily to king Hiero, the protector and patron of all the learned in disgrace at Athens. He died there soon after, in a very singular manner, if we may believe Suidas. As he lay asleep in the fields, with his head bare, an eagle, taking his bald crown for a stone, let a tortoise fall upon it, which killed him. Of ninety, or at least seventy tragedies, composed by him, only seven are now extant. Nor have those of Sophocles escaped the injury of time better, though one Bridles wild rage, loves rigid honesty, And strict observance of impartial laws, And begs the gods to turn blind fortunes wheel, To raise the wretched, and pull down the proud; But what some way conduces to the plot. * Vol. IV. Roscom Art of Poetry. Quo melius nostri illi senes, qui personatum, ne Roscium quidem, magnopere laudabant.-Lib. iii. de Orat. n. 221. hundred and seventeen in number, and, according to some, one hundred and thirty. He retained, to extreme old age, all the force and vigour of his genius, a3 appears from a circumstance in his history. His children, unworthy of so great a father, under pretence that he had lost his senses, summoned him before the judges, in order to obtain a decree, that his estate might be taken from him, and put into their hands. He made no other defence than to read a tragedy he was at that time composing, called Edipus at Colonos, with which the judges were so charmed, that he carried his cause unanimously: and his children, detested by the whole assembly, got nothing by their suit, but the shame and infamy due to such flagrant ingratitude. He was twenty times crowned victor. Some say he expired in repeating his Antigone, for want of power to recover his breath, after a violent endeavour to pronounce a long period to the end. Others, that he died of joy upon his being declared victor, contrary to his expectations. The figure of a hive was placed upon his tomb, to perpetuate the name of bee, which had been given him from the sweetness of his verses; whence, it is probable, the notion was derived, of the bees having settled upon his lips when in his cradle. He died in his ninetieth year the fourth of the ninety-third Olympiad,* after having survived Euripides six years, who was not so old as himself. The latter was born in the first year of the seventy-fifth Olympiad,† at Salamis, whither his father Menesarchus and his mother Clito had retired, when Xerxes was preparing for his great expedition against Greece. He applied himself at first to philosophy, and among others, had the celebrated Anaxagoras for his master. But the danger incurred by that great man, who was very near being made the victim of his philosophical tenets, inclined him to the study of poetry. He discovered in himself a genius for the drama, unknown to him at first; and employed it with such success, that he entered the lists with the greatest masters, of whom we have been speaking. His works sufficiently denote his profound application to philosophy. They abound with excellent maxims of morality; and it is in that view, Socrates in his time, and Cicero long after him, set so high a value upon Euripides.§ One cannot sufficiently admire the extreme delicacy expressed by the Athenian audience on certain occasions, and their solicitude to preserve the reverence due to morality, virtue, decency, and justice. It is surprising to observe the warmth with which they unanimously reproved whatever seemed inconsistent with them, and called the poet to an account for it, notwithstanding his having the best founded excuse, giving such sentiments only to persons notoriously vicious, and actuated by the most unjust passions. Euripides had put into the mouth of Bellerophon a pompous panegyric upon riches, which concluded with this thought: Riches are the supreme good of the human race, and with reason excite the admiration of the gods and men. The whole theatre cried out against these expressions, and he would have been banished directly, if he had not desired the sentence to be respited till the conclusion of the piece, in which the advocate for riches perished miserably. He was in danger of incurring serious inconveniences from an answer he puts into the mouth of Hippolytus. Phrædra's nurse represented to him, that he bad engaged himself under an inviolable oath to keep her secret. My tongue, it is true pronounced that oath, replied he, but my heart gave no consent to it. This frivolous distinction appeared to the whole people, as an express contempt of religion and the sanctity of an oath, that tended to banish all sincerity and good faith from society and the commerce of life. Another maxim advanced by Eteocles in a tragedy called the Phoenicians, and which Cæsar had always in his mouth, is no less pernicious. If justice may be violated at all, it is when a throne is in question; in other respects let it * A. M. 3599. Ant. J. C. 405. † A. M. 3524. Ant. J. C. 480. Sententiis densus, et id iis quæ a sapientibus sunt, pene ipsis est par.-Quintil. lib. x. c. l. |