s the general aim,
the interpretation of life, is never obscured by the predominance of
exceptional and so to speak, accidental characteristics. Man is the
subject of the Greek drama; the subject of the modern novel is Tom and
Dick.

Finally, to the realisation of this general aim, the whole form of the
Greek drama was admirably adapted. It consisted very largely of
conversations between two persons, representing two opposed points of
view, and giving occasion for an almost scientific discussion of every
problem of action raised in the play; and between these conversations
were inserted lyric odes in which the chorus commented on the
situation, bestowed advice or warning, praise or blame, and finally
summed up the moral of the whole. Through the chorus, in fact, the poet
could speak in his own person, and impose upon the whole tragedy any
tone which he desired. Periodically he could drop the dramatist and
assume the preacher; and thus ensure that his play should be, what we
have seen was its recognised ideal, not merely a representation but an
interpretation of life.

But this without ceasing to be a work of art. In attempting to analyse
in abstract terms the general character of the Greek tragedy we have
necessarily thrown into the shade what after all was its primary and
most essential aspect; an aspect, however, of which a full appreciation
could only be attained not by a mere perusal of the test, but by what is
unfortunately for ever beyond our power, the witnessing of an actual
representation as it was given on the Greek stage. For from a purely
aesthetic point of view the Greek drama must be reckoned among the most
perfect of art forms.

Taking place in the open air, on the sunny slope of a hill, valley and
plain or islanded sea stretching away below to meet the blazing blue of
a cloudless sky, the moving pageant, thus from the first set in tune
with nature, brought to a focus of splendour the rays of every separate
art. More akin to an opera than to a play it had, as its basis, music.
For the drama had developed out of the lyric ode, and retained
throughout what was at first its only element, the dance and song of a
mimetic chorus. By this centre of rhythmic motion and pregnant melody
the burden of the tale was caught up and echoed and echoed again, as the
living globe divided into spheres of answering song, the clear and
precise significance of the plot, never obscure to the head, being thus
brought home in