lue of righteousness and faithfulness as such. But when
we ask, 'Righteousness in what relation?'--'Faithfulness to whom?'--
the Gorgias is silent; and when the vacant outline is filled up in the
Republic, we are presented with an ideal of man's social relations,
which, although it may be regarded as the ultimate development of
existing tendencies, yet has no immediate bearing on any actual
condition of the world.

The ideal of the tragic poet may be less perfect; or rather he does
not attempt to set before us abstractedly any single ideal. But the
grand types of character which he presents to the world are not merely
imaginary. They are creatures of flesh and blood, men and women, to
whom the unsullied purity of their homes, the freedom and power of
their country, the respect and love of their fellow-citizens, are
inestimably dear. From a Platonic, and still more from a Christian
point of view, the best morality of the age of Pericles is no doubt
defective. Such counsels of perfection as 'Love your enemies', or 'A
good man can harm no one, not even an enemy',--are beyond the horizon
of tragedy, unless dimly seen in the person of Antigone. The
coexistence of savage vindictiveness with the most affectionate
tenderness is characteristic of heroes and heroines alike, and
produces some of the most moving contrasts. But the tenderness is no
less deep and real for this, and while the chief persons are thus
passionate, the Greek lesson of moderation and reasonableness is
taught by the event, whether expressed or not by the mouth of sage or
prophet or of the 'ideal bystander'.

Greek tragedy, then, is a religious art, not merely because associated
with the festival of Dionysus, nor because the life which it
represented was that of men who believed, with all the Hellenes, in
Zeus, Apollo, and Athena, or in the power of Moira and the Erinyes,--
not merely because it represented

'the dread strife
Of poor humanity's afflicted will
Struggling in vain with ruthless destiny,'

but much more because it awakened in the Athenian spectator emotions
of wonder concerning human life, and of admiration for nobleness in
the unfortunate--a sense of the infinite value of personal uprightness
and of domestic purity--which in the most universal sense of the word
were truly religious,--because it expressed a consciousness of depths
which Plato never fathomed, and an ideal of character which, if less
complete than Shakesp