for many of his facts. The modern sources to which he is principally indebted are Bentley's Dissertation on Phalaris; the sixth volume of "Voyage du jeune Anarcharsis;" Schlegel's Lectures on the Drama, and a learned compilation published at Cambridge, entitled "Theatre of the Greeks."

His general aim has been to convey to English readers a correct idea of the leading characteristics of the higher branch of the Grecian drama. The tragedies of Greece were the homilies of antiquity. They reflect the sentiments, the feelings, and the inspirations of an age, the most brilliant in Athenian history, and even in the history of the human mind. They formed the bright mine of lofty thought, and moral aphorism, to which philosophers and rhetoricians in succeeding ages had recourse for materials wherewith to adorn or illustrate their compositions, and to which even the fathers of the Church disdained not to apply for similar purposes. In our universities and public schools they constitute a prominent object of youthful study; and a series of great scholars, both

native and foreign, have poured forth upon them the brightest lights of profound learning and acute criticism. The facts that illustrate their literary history are therefore of general interest.

It is only necessary to add, that, although the majority of English readers can hardly be supposed to have time or inclination to peruse voluminous translations of the Grecian dramatists, they may be interested by having their attention directed to the finest specimen of the class, and such the Author has long deemed the Agamemnon.

Others of the Greek tragedies might be pointed out, more perfect in their artificial structure, and more faultless in their diction; but in general grandeur of conception, in sublime imagery, in thrilling pathos, and in moral elevation, it perhaps transcends them all.

In thus highly appreciating its merits, he expresses himself with the greater confidence, from knowing that this opinion is sanctioned by the authority of some of the first scholars and critics of the day.

Although various translations of this drama have been published, distinguished by no ordinary ability, the author deems the path yet open of honorable competition. So great indeed are the obstacles to success, arising out of the peculiar style of certain parts of the original, that, like the bow of Ulysses in the hand of the suitors, it seems destined to invite and to baffle the efforts of successive translators.

The difficulty of transfusing the beauties and peculiarities of a Greek or a Latin poet into a modern language, is indeed so great, that he must entertain a most presumptuous notion of his own powers, who can submit such a production to the ordeal of public criticism without unfeigned diffidence and an earnest appeal to the indulgence of his readers.

If a close adherence to the literal meaning of the original were alone requisite, every sound scholar might be a successful translator. But mere learning, however ably it may develop the sense, or illustrate the allusions of the classical

poets, can no more do justice to the flashes of airy fancy and impassioned feeling, of brilliant sentiment and graceful expression, which sparkle in their pages, than a philosopher could imitate by any artificial means the coruscations of lightning.

Literal translation (to quote Dryden) is very similar to dancing on ropes with fettered legs; a man may shun a fall by using caution, but gracefulness of motion is not to be expected.

Yet even this extreme is more tolerable than that paraphrastic redundancy which sacrifices the nature and truth, the point and terseness of the original, and transmutes the laconic language of passion or feeling into high-sounding declamation. It is like diluting a fine essence till its peculiar charm and exhilarating qualities are wholly extinguished. Easily described, but rarely attained, is that happy medium between these opposite extremes, by which the sense of a classical poet is faithfully transfused into another tongue, in a style and manner not only poetical, but which recal the original to a critical reader. Occasionally the

English idiom conforms with singular aptitude to classical phraseology, especially in the more colloquial scenes of the Grecian dramatists; but when conversation becomes elevated into poetry, or when proverbial, humorous, or figurative passages occur, it will frequently happen that the only just mode of conveying any correct impression of their force or beauty, is to search our language for expressions of corresponding spirit and meaning, though often widely distant from verbal resemblance. Any considerable departure from this degree of fidelity can only be justified in the case of such extraordinary conciseness or obscurity as defies all but very free translation. Pindar is known to abound in such passages, and they not unfrequently occur in the choruses of the Greek tragedies.

These principles of translation condemn, it is true, one of the finest poems of this description in our own or in any language; for Pope's Homer abounds in exquisite beauties and splendid passages, the creation in a great degree of his own faney; while the peculiar energy, the venerable