iful in its
revealing power. If all the histories were lost and all the ethical
discussions forgotten, the moral quality of life and the tremendous
significance of character would find adequate illustration in the
great tragedies. They lay bare the very heart of man under all
historic conditions; they make us aware of the range of his
experiences; they uncover the depths by which he is surrounded. They
enable us to see, in lightning flashes, the undiscovered territory
which incloses the little island on which we live; they light up the
mysterious background of invisible forces against which we play our
parts and work out our destiny.

To the student of literature, who strives not only to enjoy but to
comprehend, tragedy brings all the materials for a deep and genuine
education. Instead of a philosophical or ethical statement of
principles, it offers living illustration of ethical law as revealed
in the greatest deeds and the most heroic experiences; it discloses
the secret of the age which created it,--for in no other literary form
are the fundamental conceptions of a period so deeply involved or so
clearly set forth. The very springs of Greek character are uncovered
in the Greek tragedies; and the tremendous forces liberated by the
Renaissance are nowhere else so strikingly brought to light as in that
group of tragedies which were produced in so many countries, by so
many men, at the close of that momentous epoch. When literature runs
mainly to the tragic form, it may be assumed that the spiritual force
of the race has expressed itself afresh, and that a race, or a group
of races, has passed through one of those searching experiences which
bring men again face to face with the facts of life; for the
production of tragedy involves thought of such depth, insight of such
clearness, and imaginative power of such quality and range that it is
possible, on a great scale, only when the springs of passion and
action have been profoundly stirred. The appearance of tragedy marks,
therefore, those moments when men manifest, without calculation or
restraint, all the power that is in them; and into no other literary
form is the vital force poured so lavishly. It is the instinctive
recognition of this unveiling of the soul of man which gives the
tragedy such impressiveness even when it is haltingly represented on
the stage, and which subdues the imagination to its mood when the
solitary reader comes under its spell. The life of the