Hiero having gained the crown in the Olympic games, Pindar alludes to that event in one of his odes, and thus takes occasion to speak of his friend and patron:

Happy he, whose glorious brow
Pisa's honor'd chaplets crown;
Calm his stream of life shall flow,
Shelter'd by his high renown.
That alone is bliss supreme;
Which unknowing to decay,
Still with ever shining beam
Gladdens each succeeding day.
Then for happy Hiero weave

Garlands of Æolian strains;
Him those honors to receive
The Olympic law ordains.
Nor more worthy of her lay

Can the muse a mortal find;
Greater in imperial sway,

Richer in a virtuous mind.

Contemporary with Pindar flourished the great tragic poet Eschylus. He was an Athenian by birth, and was early distinguished among his countrymen for poetic genius. Previously to his time, tragedy was in a rude and imperfeet state, notwithstanding the talents of Thespis, Pratinas and others, had been exerted for its advancement. Being endowed by nature with a superior genius, and a mind far above the ordinary stamp, and conscious of the imperfections of the drama, he determined upon endeavoring to reform it, which he soon accomplished by introducing radical and important alterations, not only in the structure and arrangement of tragedies, but in the manner of representation. Before he was twenty-five years of age, several of his tragedies were represented, and received with great applause by an Athenian audience. Melpomene appeared with a grace, spirit and dignity unknown before, and assumed a more elevated rank among her sister muses. The improvements he effected in the manner of representation, were the introduction of several actors clothed in flowing robes, the use of masks by the performers, expressive of the characters they represented, and the decoration of the stage with appropriate scenery.

Eschylus was distinguished for his valor and conduct in the celebrated battles of Marathon and Platea, and the sea fight of Salamis. The scenes then represented before him, made so deep an impression upon his mind, that he afterwards skilfully adapted

them to scenic representation. He was the author of ninety tragedies, forty of which were rewarded with public prizes. Of all his dramatic productions, seven only have reached us, which have been translated in an elegant and spirited manner. by Potter.

1

The tragedies of Æschylus have all the marks of a bold, ori⚫ginal and inventive genius, relying solely upon its own powers and energies-his imagination was bold and comprehensive, seizing upon every circumstance fitted to produce dramatic effect, and attract the attention of the audience. In the language of Cumberland, "his pen, like his sword, is a weapon of terror; the spectacle which his drama exhibits, is a sublime scene of awful magnificence, and his sentiment and style are in unison with his subject." In no one of his tragedies which have survived the ravages of time, are the various qualities that constitute the sublime of dramatic poetry, more conspicuously displayed, than in that of Agamemnon, written when he was upwards of sixty years of age-a time of life when the mental powers of most men are on the decline. In the composition of this tragedy, and particularly in portraying the characters of Agamemnon, Clytemnestra and Cassandra, all the faculties of his powerful mind appear to have been called into action, and exerted with striking, if not tremendous, effect. In the Agamemnon of Eschylus, there is none of that fierceness of character, impetuosity of temper, and haughtiness of demeanor, which characterise the Agamemnon of Homer, and which most persons would look for in the proud leader of the Grecian armies; on the contrary, the author has invested him with a certain mildness of disposition, and openness of character, which are admirably contrasted with the duplicity of Clytemnestra and her bold and fearless spirit. Her duplicity is strongly marked in her reception of Agamemnon, after an absence of ten years. She receives him with every mark of joy and affection, and after pouring forth her complaints for his long absence, she thus addresses him:

"

at thy return

The gushing fountains of my tears are dried,

Save that my eyes are weak with midnight watchings,
Straining, through tears, if haply they might see
The signal fires, that claim'd my fix'd attention.

If they were clos'd in sleep, a silly fly

Would, with the slightest murmuring, make me starf.

And wake me to more fears. For thy dear sake,
All this I suffer'd; but my jocund heart
Forgets it all, whilst I behold my lord,

My guardian, the strong anchor of my hope,

The stately column that supports my house.

If any suspicions, with regard to the fidelity of Clytemnestra, had existed in the mind of Agamemnon, the above speech, so expressive of the warm and devoted attachment of a fond and affectionate wife, would have removed all, and silenced every whisper of jealousy. The mighty genius of Shakespeare himself, intimately as he was acquainted with all the avenues to the human heart, would have found it difficult to have devised a speech better calculated to lull suspicion. It has the desired effect; Agamemnon enters his palace in all the pomp of triumph, and throwing himself completely in her power, falls a victim to the murderous dagger of Clytemnestra. After having committed the horrid deed, and whilst her hands are yet reeking with a husband's blood, she avows it in the following language:

when the heart conceives

Thoughts of deep vengeance on a foe, what means

To achieve the deed more certain, than to wear
The form of friendship, and with circling wiles
Inclose them in the insuperable net?

I struck him twice, and twice
He groan'd, then died. A third time as he lay
I gor'd him with a wound; a grateful present
To the stern god, that in realms below

Reigns o'er the dead; there let him take his seat.
He lay, and spouting from his wounds a stream

Of blood, bedewed me with his crimson drops.

I glory in them, like the genial earth

When the warm showers of heaven descend and wake
The flowrets to unfold their vermiel leaves.

Her bold and daring character, spurning all control and careless of consequences, is further exhibited in her reply to the chorus:

Chorus. We are astonished at thy daring words

Thus vaunting o'er the ruins of thy husband.
Clytem. Me, like a witless woman, would thou fright?
I tell thee, my firm soul disdains to fear.

Be thou dispos'd to applaud or censure me,

I reck not; there Agamemnon lies,

My husband slaughter'd by this hand; I dare

Arow his death and justify the deed.

The character in the modern drama, which approaches nearest to that of Clytemnestra, is Lady Macbeth-the same contempt of danger and steadiness of purpose mark both. Another important and interesting character is Cassandra, daughter of Priam and Hecuba, who received from Apollo the gift of prophecy. In the division of the spoils of Troy, Cassandra fell to the share of Agamemnon, and accompanied him to Argos. She is there inspired with the spirit of prophecy, and foretells her own death, which she meets with the firmness worthy the daugh ter of Priam and the sister of the noble Hector.

Such though it be, I enter, to bewail

My fate, and Agamemnon's. To have liv'd
Let it suffice. And think not, gen'rous strangers,
Like the poor bird that flutters o'er the bough,
Through fear I linger. But my dying words
You will remember, when her blood shall flow
For mine, woman's for woman's; and the man's

For his that falls by his accursed wife.

Chorus. Thy fate, poor sufferer, fills my eyes with tears.
Cassandra. Yet once more let me raise my mournful voice.

Thou sun, whose rising beams shall bless no more
These closing eyes! you, whose vindictive rage
Hangs o'er my hated murderers, oh, avenge me,
Though, a poor slave, I fall an easy prey!
This is the state of man: in prosperous fortune
A shadow, passing light, throws to the ground
Joy's baseless fabric; in adversity
Comes malice with a sponge moistened in gall,
And wipes each beauteous character away:

More than the first this melts my soul to pity.

The foregoing extracts will serve, in some degree, to exhibit the train of thought that characterised the dramatic genius of Eschylus, and the peculiar spirit which animated him in all his dramatic efforts. He lived in the time of the Persian war, and had himself been distinguished for deeds of arms; hence his great object was to animate his countrymen, and keep alive the heroic fire which warmed their forefathers; he, therefore, selected his characters from the heroic sages, and depicted vigorous and free minds, superior to fear, devoted to their country, and greedy of glory on the field of battle.

Notwithstanding his high reputation, when the tragedy of the "Furies" was represented, his enemies charged him with impiety, and would, probably, have put him to death, had it not been

for the intercession of his brother Amynias. This event made such an impression on his mind, that he retired to the court of Hiero, king of Sicily, where he died in the sixty-ninth year of his age. The Athenians decreed public honors to his memory. Eschylus was succeeded by Sophocles and Euripides, two equally celebrated names in dramatic history. Sophocles, at the death of Eschylus, was in the twenty-seventh year of his age, and like him was distinguished for his valor in several battles; *indeed, having attained the dignity of Archon, he commanded the Athenian armies on several occasions, with considerable reputation. He first applied himself to lyric poetry, and on his "sounding lyre" celebrated the victories of his countrymen. Having been successful in a poetic contest, instituted by the Athenians to celebrate the conquest of the island of Scyros, in which Eschylus is said to have been a competitor, he devoted the remainder of his days to the cultivation of poetry, in which he was eminently successful, having obtained the prize twenty different times. The splendid triumph which he gained over Eschylus, greatly increased his reputation, and gave him the empire of the stage, until disputed by Euripides. Sophocles was the author of one hundred and twenty tragedies, only seven of which are extant. The style of Sophocles was compared by his contemporaries, to the honey of the bee for sweetness, hence he obtained the name of the "Bee." His children, anxious to become possessed of his estate, charged him with insanity before the Areopagus. The poet appeared before his judges, and by way of defence read his last tragedy of "Edipus at Colonos," in which he represents, in the most glowing colors, the conduct of ungrateful children, and then inquired of his judges, whether the author of such a production could justly be charged with insanity. He was acquitted, to the shame and confusion of his children, and was conducted home amidst the acclamations of the people. Sophocles lived near one hundred years in the full enjoyment of his faculties, and died through excess of joy, when the prize was decreed to "Edipus," the last play he exhibited. The following beautiful verses on his death, translated from the Greek by Addison, cannot fail to please every reader of taste:

Wind, gentle evergreen, to form a shade,
Around the tomb where Sophocles is laid;
Sweet ivy wind thy boughs and intertwine