The last dramatic production of Cratinus was a comedy, entitled The Flagon," which he wrote in consequence of an attack made upon him by Aristophanes, in one of his comedies, in which he was held up to ridicule in consequence of his excessive love of wine. In this comedy Cratinus contrived to turn the laugh against Aristophanes, who was himself a devotee of the jolly god. In his comic writings he is said to have possessed the severity of Archilochus and the energy of Æschylus. Cratinus died in the ninety-seventh year of his age.

Eupolis was also an Athenian, and exhibited great dramatic powers at a very early age. He is said to have written seventeen comedies before he attained the age of seventeen years— an effort of genius seldom, if ever, equalled. He soon became a popular writer, and the boldness of his satire, which was levelled at the vicious and profligate characters of Athens, recommended him to public esteem. The manner of his death is uncertain; it is supposed, however, that some of those persons, whose vices he had exposed in his comedies, suborned assassins to throw him into the Hellespont, and even Alcibiades, whom he had satirized, is suspected for having been concerned in the plot. He was the author of about twenty comedies, of the greater part of which little more than the titles have been preserved.

Aristophanes was born in the island of Rhodes, but went early to Athens, where he subsequently distinguished himself as a comic poet and received the olive crown in a public assembly. In private life he is represented to have been free and open in his temper, of a social disposition, and intemperate in the use of wine-a vice from which, however, very few in his time, could claim exemption. He was one of the most popular men in Athens, and his fame soon spread abroad. "The comedies of Aristophanes," says a competent judge, "are of a mixed species; sometimes personal, at other times inclining to parody; he varies and accommodates his style to his subject and the speakers; on some occasions it is elevated, grave, sublime and polished; on others it sinks and descends into humble dialogue, provincial rusticity and coarse obscenity. In some passages he starts out of the ordinary province of comedy, into the loftiest flights of poetry, in which he is scarcely surpassed by Eschylus or Pindar." Aristophanes was the author of above fifty comedies, of

which only eleven have come down to us. In one of them, "The Clouds," he attacked Socrates, the celebrated philosopher, by bringing him upon the stage, and exposing his person and character to ridicule. Socrates was present at the representation of this play, at the time when the theatre was crowded with strangers, and in a great degree destroyed the intended effect of the piece by his magnanimity. When the person representing Socrates came forward, observing the anxiety of the strangers to know the person the poet meant to satirize, the philosopher, with great coolness, rose up and continued standing during the remainder of the performance. It was in consequence of this attack upon Socrates, that the law prohibiting the representation of living characters upon the stage was enacted.

The principal object of Aristophanes in "The Clouds," appears to have been, to expose the doctrines taught by Socrates, although he sometimes hints at his personal infirmities. He is introduced upon the stage, suspended in a basket, and is accosted by Strepsiades, a wild fellow, who has been in conversation with some of the disciples of the philosopher:

Strep. Hoa! Socrates-what hoa, my little Socrates!
Soc. Mortal, how now! thou insect of a day,

What would'st thou?

Strep. I would know what thou art doing.
Soc. I tread in air, contemplating the sun.
Strep. Oh! then I see you're baskettd so high
That you look down upon the gods-good hope
You'll lower a peg on earth.

Soc. Sublime in air,

Sublime in thought, I carry my mind with me,
Its cogitations all assimilated

To the pure atmosphere, in which I float;
Lower me to earth, and my mind's subtle powers,
Seized by contagious dulness, lose their spirit;
For the dry earth drinks up the generous sap,
The vegetating vigor of philosophy,
And leaves it a mere husk.

Strep. What do you say?

Philosophy has sapt your vigor? Fie upon it.
But come, my precious fellow, come down quickly
And teach me those fine things I'm here in quest of
Soc. And what fine things are they?

Step. A new receipt

For sending off my creditors, and foiling them
By the art logical; for you shall know

By debts, pawns, pledges, usuries, executions,
Lam racked and rent in tatters.

Socrates inquires of Strepsiades, if he is desirous of being instructed in "celestial matters," and being answered in the affirmative, he commences the ceremony of initiation:

Keep silence then, and listen to a prayer,
Which fits the gravity of age to hear-
Oh air, all powerful air, which dost enfold
This pendant globe, thou vault of flaming gold,

Ye sacred clouds, who bid the thunder roll,

Shine forth, approach, and cheer your suppliant's soul!
Strep. Hold! keep 'em off a while, till I am ready.
Ah luckless me, would I had bro't my bonnet

And so escaped a soaking.

Soc. Fly swift ye clouds, and give yourselves to view!
Whether on high Olympus' sacred top

Snow crown'd ye sit, or in the azure vales
Of your own father Ocean sporting weave
Your misty dance, or dip your golden urns
In the seven mouths of Nile; whether ye dwell

On Thracian Mimas, or Mæotis' lake

Hear me, yet hear, and thus invok'd approach!

A large cloud is seen floating in the air, from which a song is heard, at the conclusion of which, Socrates says,

Yes, ye divinities, whom I adore,

I hail you now propitious to my prayer,

Did'st thou not hear, then speak in thunder to me-
Strep. And I too am your cloudship's most obedient
And under sufferance trump against your thunder.
Nay, take it how you may, my frights and fears
Have pinch'd and cholick'd my poor bowels so,
That I can't choose but treat their holy nostrils
With an unsavoury sacrifice.

Soc. Forbear

These gross scurrilities, for low buffoons

And mountebanks more fitting. Hush! be still,
List to the chorus of their heavenly voices,
For music is the language they delight in.

Much in the same strain, the author continues his satire upon Socrates, to the conclusion of the piece. Aristophanes possessed such boldness and independence of character, that he never swerved from his purpose from fear of consequences. He assailed the powerful as well as the weak, whenever he believed their conduct merited censure. He attacked Cleon in a piece abounding with the bitterest satire, but as he could find no workman who would make a mask to represent him, or performer who would undertake the part, he appeared upon the stage

which only eleven have come down to us. In one of them, "The Clouds," he attacked Socrates, the celebrated philosopher, by bringing him upon the stage, and exposing his person and character to ridicule. Socrates was present at the representation of this play, at the time when the theatre was crowded with strangers, and in a great degree destroyed the intended effect of the piece by his magnanimity. When the person representing Socrates came forward, observing the anxiety of the strangers to know the person the poet meant to satirize, the philosopher, with great coolness, rose up and continued standing during the remainder of the performance. It was in consequence of this attack upon Socrates, that the law prohibiting the representation of living characters upon the stage was enacted.

The principal object of Aristophanes in "The Clouds," appears to have been, to expose the doctrines taught by Socrates, although he sometimes hints at his personal infirmities. He is introduced upon the stage, suspended in a basket, and is accosted by Strepsiades, a wild fellow, who has been in conversation. with some of the disciples of the philosopher:

Strep. Hoa! Socrates-what hoa, my little Socrates!
Soc. Mortal, how now! thou insect of a day,

What would'st thou?

Strep. I would know what thou art doing.
Soc. I tread in air, contemplating the sun.
Strep. Oh! then I see you're baskettd so high
That you look down upon the gods-good hope
You'll lower a peg on earth.

Soc. Sublime in air,

Sublime in thought, I carry my mind with me,
Its cogitations all assimilated

To the pure atmosphere, in which I float;
Lower me to earth, and my mind's subtle powers,
Seized by contagious dulness, lose their spirit;
For the dry earth drinks up the generous sap,
The vegetating vigor of philosophy,
And leaves it a mere husk.

Strep. What do you say?

Philosophy has sapt your vigor? Fie upon it.

But come, my precious fellow, come down quickly
And teach me those fine things I'm here in quest of
Soc. And what fine things are they?

Step. A new receipt

For sending off my creditors, and foiling them
By the art logical; for you shall know

By debts, pawns, pledges, usuries, executions,
Lam racked and rent in tatters.

Socrates inquires of Strepsiades, if he is desirous of being instructed in "celestial matters," and being answered in the affirmative, he commences the ceremony of initiation:

A large cloud is seen floating in the air, from which a song heard, at the conclusion of which, Socrates says,

Yes, ye divinities, whom I adore,

I hail you now propitious to my prayer,

Did'st thou not hear, then speak in thunder to me—–
Strep. And I too am your cloudship's most obedient
And under sufferance trump against your thunder.
Nay, take it how you may, my frights and fears
Have pinch'd and cholick'd my poor bowels so,
That I can't choose but treat their holy nostrils
With an unsavoury sacrifice.

Soc. Forbear

These gross scurrilities, for low buffoons

And mountebanks more fitting. Hush! be still,
List to the chorus of their heavenly voices,
For music is the language they delight in.

is

Much in the same strain, the author continues his satire upon Socrates, to the conclusion of the piece. Aristophanes possessed such boldness and independence of character, that he never swerved from his purpose from fear of consequences. He assailed the powerful as well as the weak, whenever he believed their conduct merited censure. He attacked Cleon in a piece abounding with the bitterest satire, but as he could find no workman who would make a mask to represent him, or performer who would undertake the part, he appeared upon the stage