OF LITERATURE. 



XV 



is rarely free from subtlety or petulance ; and 

 in philosophy, content to be always a disciple, 

 and devoid of original power, he has repeatedly 

 been made the organ of doctrines, whose folly 

 or mischief he did not understand. 



Longinus, who has drawn from the sun a 

 simile to illustrate the differences between the 

 Iliad and the Odyssey, might have discovered a 

 like illustration of the rise and fall of Grecian 

 tragedy. With JEschylus, it is the dawn of a 

 glorious day, rich in gorgeous colouring and 

 bright promise, but still battling against the 

 clouds, and thwarted by the morning haze ; with 

 Sophocles, of a mature and steadfast radiance, it 

 glows in the meridian ; and with Euripides, its 

 aptest emblem is the setting luminary, beautiful 

 even in decline, and flooding the skies with a 

 softened lustre, but shorn of power and splendour, 

 and soon to be swallowed up in the darkness of 

 night. Into those shades of obscurity it is not 

 necessary to follow the expiring art. Even 

 while the works of their contemporaries or 

 successors still survived, the ancients themselves 

 acknowledged the pre-eminence of the three 

 great poets whose characteristics have been point- 

 ed out. It would neither instruct nor amuse the 

 reader to lead him through a dry catalogue of 

 more than a hundred names, here and there 

 associated with a single piece, or a few fragments, 

 which extend beyond the classical era as low as 

 the fourth century after Christ All the lustre 

 of Greek tragedy vanished with Euripides, and 

 in the latest productions that assumed the title, 

 its very form disappeared. 



If it is expedient, when considering the ancient 

 tragedy, to dismiss modern notions of plan and 

 excellence ; it is yet more proper to do so when 

 engaged with the subject of the Greek comic 

 drama. The form of that species of poetry, es- 

 pecially in its more early and interesting shape, 

 was very different from the comedy of intrigue 

 which has gained possession of most modern 

 stages. Like tragedy, it arose out of the ebulli- 

 tions of Bacchanalian festivity. It is probable 

 that Susarion* of Megara first improved the 

 Phallic hymn, a principal portion of the Bacchic 

 ritual, into a farce performed by a chorus, and 

 accompanied by extemporaneous effusions of 

 raillery and sarcasm. But the Syracusan Epi- 

 charmuSjf the contemporary of ./Rschylus, did for 

 Grecian comedy that which TEschylus effected 

 in the other department of the drama. He 

 changed the loose interlocutions of the Megarian 

 comedy into regular dialogue ; gave to each 

 exhibition an unbroken fable ; and softened 



into ridicule the coarseness of personal invec- 

 tive. His plots were chiefly of a mythological 

 cast, and the elegance of his style was the more 

 remarkable, when contrasted with the rough 

 buffoonery to which it succeeded. Mitigated, 

 however, as the scurrility of his predecessors was 

 in the plays of Epicharmus, accurate criticism 

 will detect, in what tradition has recorded of 

 them, some distinct elements of the Aristophanic 

 comedy. The habit of burlesquing the tragic 

 style and subjects, to which jealousy of their 

 rising fame probably inclined him, was revived 

 in the incessant parodies, in which the Athenian 

 comic writers indulged their humour or their 

 spleen ; those political strokes that seasoned the 

 wit of Epicharmus, were a type, though a faint 

 one, of the perpetual battery which the poet 

 of Athens was expected to play upon public 

 affairs and public men ; and the invented char- 

 acters, the fanciful stories, the mixture of 

 seriousness with jocularity, which marked the 

 Sicilian style, are all features to be recognized 

 anew in such productions as the Wasps, the 

 Birds, and the Clouds of Aristophanes. 



The chief alteration made by this great writer 

 and his Athenian predecessors on the Syracusan 

 model, was the bringing back, with a loftier aim, 

 but equal or augmented bitterness, the personal 

 satire of the primitive Phallic songs. They thus 

 stamped upon the Old Comedy a deep indelible 

 impression. It was essentially satirical, and 

 sank at once when its essence was withdrawn. 

 Not that its authors were so simple as to baulk 

 their countrymen of that variety, which in the 

 theatre, as everywhere else, was dear to the in- 

 habitants of Attica. Many other ingredients 

 were blended with the predominant one of per- 

 sonal invective. On the slender thread of an 

 inartificial plot were strung together sarcasm, 

 ridicule, poetry, wit, humour, politics, parody, 

 and puns. The old Comedy may want sym- 

 metry and order ; it may be deficient as a work 

 of art ; yet as a rich and ready vehicle for the 

 flights of genius, it was congenial to the taste of 

 Athens, and worthy of the illustrious poet, from 

 whose remains we now learn to understand its 

 nature. 



ARISTOPHANES* had so high an idea of his 

 function as a dramatist, and of his own mental 

 powers, that, had regularity of plot, or an in- 

 genious combination of incidents, been required 

 in the structure of the old comedy, he would 

 certainly have attempted it, and if we may judge 

 even from some scenes of his existing plays, 

 with eminent success. But in reviewing his 



B. C. SCO. 



t B. C. 500. 



* B. C. 45fl.-38& 



