the characters, the incidents, and the _denouement_ of the piece, that
the grand object of the poet was to work up a particular part of the
story to the highest perfection, rather than, to an audience
unacquainted with any part of it, to unfold the whole. It was that which
created the difference between it and the Romantic drama of modern
times. There was no use in attempting to tell the story, for that was
already known to all the audience. It would have been like telling the
story of Wallace, or Queen Mary, or Robert Bruce, to a Scottish
assembly. Genius was to be displayed; effect was to be produced, not by
unfolding new and unknown incidents, but working up to the highest
degree those already known. Hence the peculiar character of the Greek
drama; hence the astonishing and unequalled perfection to which it was
brought. The world has never seen, perhaps it will never again see, any
thing so exquisite as the masterpieces of Sophocles and Euripides--any
thing so sublime as some of AEschylus. All subsequent ages have concurred
in this opinion. All nations have united in it. The moderns and the
ancients, differing in so many other points, are at one in this
particular. There is as little diversity of opinion on the subject, as
in the admiration of the sculpture of Phidias, the verses of Virgil, or
the paintings of Raphael.

It was by the strict observance of the unities, and the necessity to
which it exposed the poet of supplying, by his own genius and taste, all
adventitious aids derived from change of scene, splendour of decoration,
and novelty of story, that this astonishing perfection was attained.
Force of language, grandeur of thought, pathos of feeling, were all in
all. The dramatist was compelled to rest on these, and these alone. If
he did not succeed in them, he was lost. The audience, composed of the
most refined and enlightened citizens that then existed in the world,
went to the theatre, expecting not to be interested or surprised by the
unravelling of a new and intricate story, but to be fascinated by the
force of expression and pathos of feeling, with which a mournful
catastrophe already known was told. To attain this object, the dramatic
writers of antiquity selected that period in an interesting and tragic
story, when its incidents were approaching their crisis, when the
_denouement_ for good or for evil took place; and they represented that
at full length, and in all its detail to the spectators. The pr