to write tragedies. This noble design he soon executed, and before the twenty-fifth year of his age began to entertain his countrymen with representations worthy of an Athenian audience.

He had pursued these studies about ten years, when Darius invaded Greece. His generals, Datis and Artaphernes, with an army of two thousand foot and ten thousand horse, were now advanced to the plains of Marathon distant only ten miles from Athens. The danger, which theatened his country, called forth the martial spirit of our poet; and very honourable mention is made of him, and his two brothers, Cynægirus and Amynias, for their eminent valour in that battle; to have wanted courage on such an occasion would have been a mark of the most abject baseness; but to be distinguished in an action, where every soldier was a hero, is a proof of superior merit. In a picture representing the battle of Marathon the portrait of Eschylus was drawn this was all the honour that Miltiades himself received from the state for his glorious conduct on that day. He was placed at the head of the ten commanders, and drawn in the act of encouraging the soldiers and beginning the battle.

:

Some time after, Cynægirus was one of the four naval commanders, who with a armament of one thousand Grecians, defeated thirty thousand Persians; but he lost his life in the action.

Ten years after the battle of Marathon, when Xerxes made that immense preparation to revenge the defeat of his father, we find that the two surviving brothers exerting their courage in the sea fight off Salamis: here Amynias, too boldly laying hold of a Persian ship, had his hand lopped off with a sabre; but Æschylua defended him, and saved his life; and the Athenians decreed him the first honours because he was the first to attack the commander of the Persian fleet, shattered the ship to pieces, and killed the Satrap. It is observed that the two brothers were ever after inseparable. The following year Eschylus acquired fresh glory in the battle of Platea, where the brave Persian, Mardonius was defeated and slain.

Having taken this active part in the three most memorable battles that grace the annals of Greece, and distinguished himself as a good citizen and a brave man, he returned with ardour to his former studies, and completed his design, of making the drama a regular, noble, and rational entertainment. He wrote about seventy tragedies, and was in great esteem with his countrymen : but upon some disgust in the latter part of his life he retired from Athens to the court of Hiero king of Sicily, where, about three years after he died, in the sixty ninth year of his age.

"The tragedy of the Furies gave great offence; and the poet,

whether for that or some other pretence, was accused of impiety; His brother Amynias pleaded his cause; the Athenians were struck with this instance of fraternal affection; they reverenced their maimed veteran, and Æschylus was acquitted. But such a spirit was not formed to submit to the affront; it made too deep an impression to be effaced; and the poet quitted the city with great indignation, declaring with a noble pride that he would rather trust his tragedies to posterity, certain that he should receive from them the honour he deserved. This honour the Athenians soon paid to his noble works: by a decree of the senate, never granted to any other, they offered rewards to any man that should again exhibit his plays; they frequently adjudged the prize to him after his decease, and acknowledged him the Father of Tragedy.

The Grecians, advancing in polished manners, carried into their towns a feast that sprung from the leisure of the country : their best poets took a pride in composing these religious hymns. to the honour of Bacchus* and embellished them with agreeable entertainments of music and dancing. After a length of time, the songs advancing in perfection, it was found necessary to give the singer some relief; and that the company might be amused during the pauses of the music, an actor was introduced; his part could be no other than a single speech, setting forth that he represented Hercules, or Theseus, or some other hero of antiquity, and had performed such or such an illustrious achievement. At the next pause another personated character advanced; at the next another; but each unrelated and unconnected with the other.

Such was the rude state of tragedy, when Eschylus conceived the great design of forming a new species of poetry that should rival even the Epic in dignity. The humble arbor interwoven with vine branches gave place to scenes of astonishing grandeur; the actor, no longer mounted on the cart of Thespis, with his face smeared over with lees of wine, or covered with a mask formed from the bark of a tree, now trod a spacious stage, magnificently habited in a robe of honour and the stately buskin; even the mask, wore a new and elegant form expressive of the character represented.

These exterior decorations were proofs only of the taste of Eschylus; his superior genius appeared in giving life to the piece, by introducing the dialogue, without which there could be no action; and from this circumstance it is, that he is with the highest propriety called the Father of the Drama. It is commonly said that Æschylus never produced more than two speakers upon the stage at the same time; there are proofs to the

contrary, though he generally adhered to that simple plan: but the new part which the Chorus now took amply supplied what we should call that poverty of the stage.

Chorus. In the ancient tragedy, a number of persons, sufficient probably to give animation to the appearance of the stage, joined in the representations of the drama,—these formed the Chorus. The Chorus seems to consist of persons of a character that might naturally desire to be witnesses of the action represented. Sometimes they were the old men of a city who came to behold some public transaction, at others the attendants of a great family and at others strangers apparently collected from curiosity. Their observations served to explain what would else be obscure, and to connect what would otherwise be broken and confused in the order of incident.

SCENE PROM THE TRAGEDY OF AGAMEMNON.

A Herald announces to Clytemnestra, the wife of Agamemnon, the destruction of Troy.

1

CLYTEMNESTRA, CHORUS, AND HERALD.

Herald. Hail, thou paternal soil of Argive earth!
In the fair light of the tenth year to thee
Returned, from the sad wreck of many hopes
This one I save; saved from despair e'en this ;
For never thought I in this honoured earth

To share in death the portion of a tomb.

Hail then, loved earth; hail thou bright sun; and thou,
Great guardian of my country, Supreme Jove;

Thou, Pythian king, thy shafts no longer winged

For our destruction: on Scamander's banks

Enough we mourned thy wrath; propitious now
Come, king Apollo, our defence. And all

Ye gods, that o'er the works of war preside,
I now invoke thee. Thee Mercury, my avenger,
Revered by heralds, that from thee derive
Their high employ. You heroes, to the war
That sent us, friendly now receive our troops,
The relics of the spear.

Imperial walls,

Mansion of kings, ye seats revered; ye gods,
That to the golden sun before these gates

Present your honoured forms: if e'er of old
Those eyes with favour have beheld the king,
Receive him now, after this length of time,
With glory; for he comes, and with him brings
To you, and all, a light that cheers this gloom:
Then greet him well; such honour is his meed
The mighty king, that with the mace of Jove
The avenger, wherewith he subdues the earth,
Hath levelled with the dust the towers of Troy;
Their altars are overturned, their sacred shrines,
And all the race destroyed. This iron yoke
Fixed on the neck of Troy, victorious comes
The great Atrides, of all mortal men
Worthy of highest honours.
Paris now

And the perfidious state, shall boast no more
His proud deeds unrevenged; stripped of his spoils,
The debt of justice for his thefts, his rapines,
Paid amply, o'er his father's house he spreads
With two-fold loss the wide-involving ruin.

Clyt. Joy to thee, herald of the Argive host.
Her. For joy like this, death were a cheap exchange.
Clyt. Strong thy affection to thy native soil.
Her. So strong, the tear of joy starts from my eye.
Clyt. What, hath this sweet infection reached e'en you?
Her. Beyond the power of language have I felt it.
Clyt. The fond desire of those, whose equal love—
Her. This of the army say'st thou, whose warm love
Streams to this land? is this thy fond desire?

Clyt. Such, that I oft have breathed the secret sigh.
Her. Whence did the army cause this anxious sadness?
Clyt. Silence I long have held a healing balm.

Her. The princes absent, hadst thou whom to fear?
Clyt. To use thy words, death were a wished exchange.
Her. Well is the conflict ended. In the tide

Of so long time if 'midst the easy flow

Of wished events some tyrannous blast assail us,
What marvel? who, save the blest gods, can claim
Through life's whole course an unmixed happiness?
Should I relate our toils, our wretched plight,
Wedged in our narrow ill-provided cabins,
Each irksome hour was loaded with fatigues.
Yet these were slight essays to those worse hardships
We suffered on the shore; our lodging near
The walls of the enemy, the dews of heaven

Fell on us from above, the damps beneath
From the moist marsh annoyed us, shrouded ill
In shaggy coverings. Or should one relate

The winter's keen blasts, which from Ida's snows

Breathe frore; that pierced through all their plumes the birds
Shiver and die; or the extreme heat that scalds,

When in his mid-day caves the sea reclines,
And not a breeze disturbs his calm repose.

But why lament these sufferings? they are past ;
Past to the dead indeed; they lie, no more
What then avails to count

Anxious to rise.

Those, whom the wasteful war hath swept away,
And with their loss afflict the living? rather
Bid we farewell to misery: in our scale,
Who haply of the Grecian host remain,
The good preponderates, and in counterpoise
Our loss is light; and after all our toils
By sea and land, before yon golden sun

It is our glorious privilege to boast,

At length from vanquished Troy our warlike troops
Have to the gods of Greece brought home these spoils,
And in their temples, to record our conquests,

Fixed these proud trophies. Those, that hear this boast,
It well becomes to gratulate, the state

And the brave chiefs : revering Jove's high power
That graced our conquering arms.

Thou hast my message.

Pythian king. Apollo was called so because he slew the serpent Python. This is figurative: Python was Disease or Malady, and as an enemy to the human constitution, is called a serpent. Apollo being the god of health, the healer or destroyer of disease, is described as having slain a serpent.

Thy shafts no longer winged for our destruction This alludes to that pestilence in the Greek camp, which is described in the first book of the Iliad. The instantaneous operation of the pest, causes its effects to be compared to the sudden and mortal wound of an arrow from the bow. This pestilence is ascribed by Homer to Apollo, as a punishment for the affront offered to his priest Chryses.

Mercury, as the messenger of the gods, was esteemed the patron of heralds, whose character therefore was always held sacred.