SOPHOCLES. [GREECE,
of all the Greeks. The dark colouring of the representa-
tions, the truth of the sentiments, the terrible obscurity
of the oracles, the deep expressions of despair, bestow
on this piece an interest which a difference of religion
and manners cannot destroy. Voltaire, in his 19th year,
had the noble audacity to seize on a subject on which
the genius of Corneille had failed, and he had the good
fortune to be successful. The Electra of Sophocles in-
terests us by making us shudder; it presents to us an
horrible parricide, which ancient fanaticism transformed
into an act of piety. With what simple and affecting
beauties does the scene between the two sisters, who are
going to strew gifts on the grave of their father, abound!
With what art does the poet strive to render Clytemnestra
odious, that he may weaken the horror which the crime
of her children must excite! Two French poets, Cre-
billon and Voltaire, have brought this subject on their
stage: the one has possessed himself of the masculine
and energetic beauties of the Grecian poet, but not of
his happy simplicity; the other, less nervous perhaps,
has been able to approach nearer to the ancient stage.
In Philoctetus, the theatre is filled, the attention cap-
tivated, by only three actors. How eloquent are the
complaints of the unfortunate hero! But the genius of
Sophocles revives in one of the fine episodes of Tele-
inachus. The Antigonus is the only piece of this great
tragic author, in which love plays a part: it adds to the
interest of the subject, without diminishing the unity of
action; and what action can be more simple than that of
pious women, who brave a tyrant, that they may perform
the funeral rites to their brother! Sophocles had not
the grief of surviving his genius, although he survived
the affection of his children; and his CEdipus at Co-
of all the Greeks. The dark colouring of the representa-
tions, the truth of the sentiments, the terrible obscurity
of the oracles, the deep expressions of despair, bestow
on this piece an interest which a difference of religion
and manners cannot destroy. Voltaire, in his 19th year,
had the noble audacity to seize on a subject on which
the genius of Corneille had failed, and he had the good
fortune to be successful. The Electra of Sophocles in-
terests us by making us shudder; it presents to us an
horrible parricide, which ancient fanaticism transformed
into an act of piety. With what simple and affecting
beauties does the scene between the two sisters, who are
going to strew gifts on the grave of their father, abound!
With what art does the poet strive to render Clytemnestra
odious, that he may weaken the horror which the crime
of her children must excite! Two French poets, Cre-
billon and Voltaire, have brought this subject on their
stage: the one has possessed himself of the masculine
and energetic beauties of the Grecian poet, but not of
his happy simplicity; the other, less nervous perhaps,
has been able to approach nearer to the ancient stage.
In Philoctetus, the theatre is filled, the attention cap-
tivated, by only three actors. How eloquent are the
complaints of the unfortunate hero! But the genius of
Sophocles revives in one of the fine episodes of Tele-
inachus. The Antigonus is the only piece of this great
tragic author, in which love plays a part: it adds to the
interest of the subject, without diminishing the unity of
action; and what action can be more simple than that of
pious women, who brave a tyrant, that they may perform
the funeral rites to their brother! Sophocles had not
the grief of surviving his genius, although he survived
the affection of his children; and his CEdipus at Co-