Page images
PDF
EPUB

*

casion, act quite, as might be expected, from their character of inefficiency, and, were the occasion not so horrible, we might almost be inclined to laugh at their confusion and perplexity. Indeed, as the drama appears in the hands of Eschylus, the distinct provinces of tragedy and comedy do not seem so strictly defined as in the succeeding dramatists; and the exact copying of nature leads him occasionally into a mixture of style, which might have produced, if it had been carried a little farther, a drama of the description which Shakespeare seems to take most delight in exhibiting. The comic traits of Eschylus, however, if they can be called by that name, are very slightly marked, and can scarcely offend the most severe taste. While the Chorus are in a puzzle how to proceed, the scene opens, and Clytemnestra is discovered standing in triumph by the dead body of her husband. It is in the following audacious and unshrinking tone that she now comes forward with all the native boldness of her character, and with that additional species of exaltation and intoxication of spirit which seems not unfrequently to accompany the commission of great crimes.

Cly. I scruple not one moment to re

tract

The words convenience dictated-and hold
Another language now! Were not these

arts

Allowed-how could one, of his enemies
Obtain advantage-enemies that

friends

seem

Or hedge them in with fence so sure, no
leap

Can clear its wide perplexity? No thought
This of a day-it rose from ancient hatred,
And hath been plotted long-and so my
Have fallen, and this foot hath trod their

foes

necks!

Ah! he could not escape me-all so true
The plot was laid, that he was fairly

netted-

Aye bodily netted like a fish-within
The splendid garment I had wound around

him;

I struck him twice-and after two loud

shrieks

His legs gave way—he fell-again I struck

him

Flat on the ground-that was a votive blow
To Pluto, the receiver of the dead!

[blocks in formation]

We

This, it must be owned, is sufficiently fiendish, and, coming so soon as it does after the grand moral picture of Cassandra, a striking contrast of character is presented to us. see, within a very short compass, the extremes of virtue and of vice, the one almost exalted to divinity, and the other with the traces of the most diabolical atrocity. A glance, as it were, is given us into the opposite regions of heaven and of hell; and we see two women resembling each other in the same great features of intelligence and of heroic courage, yet of characters so different in their moral frame, that they seem for ever to be separated, in our imagination, into the most dissimilar states of being. In this view, another very noble purpose is answered by the introduction of Cassandra. The great qualities of Clytemnestra's mind might have made us admire her rather too much in spite of her atro

Instances of the same kind are to be city, were there no other character on found in Euripides.

VOL. II.

whom our admiration could rest with

her.

the most perfect safety. Now Cas-
sandra possesses all Clytemnestra's
great endowments, but, at the same
time, she stands on that moral emi-
nence, from which the other had
fallen; and we are made to see in the
contrast, that, with that fall, every
thing was gone that was really admi-
rable. No other poet, perhaps, has so
perfectly relieved the bad influence
apt to be produced by the exhibition
of noble endowments in a wicked
mind. Shakespeare has done it in
another way, and very finely too,
though not quite so completely. The
remorse and misery of his Lady Mac-
beth, so tremendously brought out in
the sleeping scene, are evidences, in
deed, that the greatest powers of mind
will not save from wretchedness, if
they are wickedly employed; but we
have not in the play any contrast of
dignified excellence to oppose to
Milton's Satan is, throughout
all his poem, too much an object
of our admiration,-there are none of
the good angels, except, perhaps, the
Seraph Abdiel, of whom, however, we
see little, that impress our minds
very profoundly. And to come down
to a very powerful poet of our own
day,-Lord Byron trespasses still
more upon the genuine course of mo-
ral sentiment, by preventing us almost
from seeing any thing bad in his most
detestable characters. Eschylus had
got over this hazard so completely,
that he seems rather to have felt that
the danger lay on the other side, and
that his audience would now conceive
a greater antipathy to Clytemnestra
than ought to be entertained towards
any thing human. In what follows,
he accordingly endeavours rather to
palliate her guilt;-her loose attach-
ment to Egisthus is kept a good deal
in the background,-and the wrongs
she had suffered from her husband in
the cruel sacrifice of her daughter, are
brought forward with great effect, and
with all the deep feeling of an heroic,
though ill-regulated mind. She thus
replies to a threat of the Chorus:

Cly. O thou art ready to denounce my
banishment,

The hatred of my citizens on me,
And the full popular fury !—but on him
What was thy sentence when my lamb,
my daughter,

Though numerous flocks were bleating in

his pastures

He tore from me, a victim, to the altar

And gave the dear fruit of my bitter pangs
To soothe the howlings of the Thracian

winds?

Then meet it was to thunder banishment
Upon his head for such an impious deed!

O no-he was to render no account-but
I-

Soon as my glorious act has met thine ears
I must be harshly dealt with-try thy
strength-

if thou prevailest-know that I can suffer

No less than do-but take heed, if thou fail,

Lest I instruct thee, not to be so forward!

Several of those imaginary palliations which are ever ready to come to the relief of a guilty mind, and which seem to have prevailed more particularly in the creed of those ages, serve likewise to retard the advances of her remorse. The Chorus had said something of the evil genius that seemed to preside over that house; and Clytemnestra nuates that there was a destiny in her immediately seizes the idea, and insiguilt which she could not avoid.

Cly. Aye, thou hast found him now, by whom are spilt

These gory seas-the giant power of guilt

Who in our house his home hath built!
Twisted with our hearts and liver,
The thirst of blood is burning ever,
The ancient stains clean wiped out never
Ere pours afresh another foaming river!
The Chorus, however, very properly

answer.

Ch. O terrible that power, if such in-
deed

Sways this unhallowed mansion-terrible,
If true-nor less detestable the creed!
Yet Jove o'er all is powerful-nor can hell
Without his high permission weave her
spell!

Another idea, then, seems to strike the fervid imagination of the guilty

woman.

Cly. Rightly thou sayst 'twas I that reft
his life,
But think not that you see
In me
Agamemnon's wife!

No! in her form alone

The ancient fury of the house I stand,
Who, from the fatal feast of Atreus,
plann'd

This vengeance for the murdered boys;
Pushing the hour along, unseen, no noise,
When for their lives, a man's life should
atone!

The reply of the Chorus is quite as sound, as could well have been made.

by a good theologian of the present day.

Ch. O deem not such pretence will screen thy guilt

Yet it may be that on thy spirit fell The unseen vengeance so that blood is spilt

Of the son of him who gave that feast of hell!

That is to say, that Clytemnestra was undoubtedly herself guilty of a very atrocious crime, although she might, at the same time, be an instrument of retribution in the hand of providence for avenging the former crimes of the family, so that Mr Schlegel seems to be mistaken in an idea of which he is very fond, that the Greek tragic poets inculcate the notion of an irresistible destiny in human affairs, and that even the gods themselves were supposed to be subject to the control of this blind power. It was very natural for a person in the circumstances of Clytemnestra to catch at such a notion; but the poet gives his own sentiments by the mouth of the Chorus. The moral with which they close their disputation with the Queen, is quite in the same strain of sound thinking.

Ch. Hard 'tis to judge how onward go-
ing

The stream of fate will issue in its flowing!
One thing is clear that retribution
Is in the plan of never-ending Jove-
The slayer in his turn is slain,
Pollution

Brings on pollution's stain !

In the last scene of the drama, Egisthus makes his appearance. He, too, comes in with his mouth filled with the justice of a divine retribution, of which he represents himself as the instrument. He, it seems, was the only remaining child of Thyestes, and, having been saved from the massacre of the rest, lived at a distance from his country. He returned in the absence of Agamemnon, corrupted his wife, and laid himself out for the perpetration of this black scheme of hereditary vengeance. The Chorus and he have an altercation, in which neither party appear with much dignity. There is nothing respectable or great in Egisthus; he seems to be a mere vapouring coxcomb, and the Chorus twit him with his cowardice in not having himself had resolution to perform the audacious deed which he had

the baseness to contrive. One sees very well that when Clytemnestra comes to herself, she cannot but have a contempt for a man so greatly her inferior in mind and courage; and in this discovery, her punishment, we will see, partly consist. How finely Homer has touch ed the same moral chord, in the bitter contempt which he every now and then makes Helen express for the mean qualities of Paris! The Chorus, who are aware of the despicable charac ter of Egisthus, say to the Queen, Woman! woman!

Ch.

And couldst thou really stain thy husband's

bed

[blocks in formation]

This is one of the scenes in which

the poet comes a little upon the borders of comedy, and although it is all very natural, yet it rather lowers the elevated tone of inspiration to which he had risen. Both in the prophetic grandeur of Cassandra, and in the wild fanaticism which partly veils and partly magnifies the guilt of Clytemnestra, the strain of his poetry is more than human, and we feel something of a shock in being brought down again into the intercourse of vulgar inortals. Egisthus and the Chorus proceed so far in their violence, that they are on the point of fairly fighting it out with drawn swords, when Clytemnestra interferes. Her speech is very striking. The intoxication and fervour of her fancy seem to have subsided: the wisdom of a superior mind remains,-and the stings of conscience, now beginning to work upon her, leave us satisfied with the justice of the ways of heaven.

[blocks in formation]

Orders, obey!-We yielded to the time---
And 'twas necessity compelled our act-
If 'tis our punishment, you seek-alas !—
Under the torturing scourge!
It hath begun already, and will on

The play then ends somewhat ab

ruptly. It is, in fact, the first only of a series of three dramas; and as the remaining two are preserved, we have in the Agamemnon, the Chöephorae, and the Eumenides, the only example still extant of an entire Trilogyof which kind of series, some account is to be found in the very eloquent and ingenious work of M. Schlegel.

It may be observed, in concluding, that a bigoted admiration of ancient writers is not much the fault of the present age, and we may perhaps rather forget, at times, their real merit and genius. There is, therefore, some use in reviving occasionally the impressions of their excellence; and however feebly such an attempt may be executed, yet, to have made it is not entirely undeserving of commendation.

convinced are her neighbours of her supernatural powers, and so inveterate is their hatred against her. Six years ago, a boat having been for some months unfortunate in fishing, a council of war was held among the elder fishers, and it was agreed that the boat should be exorcised, and that Janet was the spirit which tormented it. Accordingly, the ceremony of exorcism was performed as follows: In each boat there is a cavity called the tap-hole; on this occasion the hollow was filled with a particular kind of water, furnished by the mistress of the boat, a straw effigy of poor Janet was placed over it, and had they dared to touch her life, Janet herself would have been there. The boat was then rowed out to sea before sunrise, and, to use the technical expression, the figure was burnt between the sun and the sky, i. e. after daylight ap

CURIOUS REMAINS OF POPULAR SU- peared, but before the sun rose above

PERSTITIONS IN FORFARSHIRE.

MR EDITOR,

DUNDEE, as you know, was the last place in Scotland where the public execution of a witch took place; and the witch burnt there was neither so old, so ugly, nor so poor, as these unfortunate persons usually are. That Grizzel Jamfrey was not poor, however, was probably the cause of her death; for the lawyers who could prove the crime of witchcraft against any person, were rewarded by great part, if not the whole, of what the convict died possessed of,-no small temptation to use diligence. But though the modern capital of Angus is thus distinguished in the annals of demonology, I did not expect to find the belief in witchcraft so general among the lower classes, as you will perceive it is from the following account, the heroine of which is my very near neighbour.

Janet Kindy, otherwise Hurkle Jean, is poor, old, and deformed; her evil eye is so dreaded in this neighbourhood, that the sickness of children and cattle is often attributed to it, and if she happen to cross a fisherman's path as he goes to his boat, the fishing is invariably spoiled for that day. I verily believe that nothing but the fear of the law prevents the tragedy of the witches of Pittenweem from being acted over again, so

the horizon, while the master called aloud, Avoid ye, Satan!' The boat was then brought home, and since that time has been as fortunate as any belonging to the village.

This is the only living witch with whom I am personally acquainted; but they seem to have abounded in the country about sixty years ago, and there are several persons alive who would not scruple to affirm upon oath, that the late Laird of Lshot a witch in the shape of a hare, really with a silver button, after she had been hunted under that form by dogs and men ineffectually for many years. It seems that the witch was his gar dener's wife, who put on the form of a malkin for the purpose of spoiling the kail and barking the young trees, and that the laird watched his opportunity, and put her to death while nibbling a fine head of curled kail; the supposed hare, on feeling herself wounded, leaped in at the window; L

saw, as he suspected, nothing but the followed her instantly, and to go to bed. He called her husband woman taking off her bloody clothes to her assistance, and she died that night.

Can any of your correspondents ex

Review for February 1812, on the subject See a note on p. 318 of the Edinburgh of Lapland incantations, which may illus trate this method of casting out evil spirits.

plain why the hare is supposed so very convenient a form for a witch? Not long ago a man going to Chapple Churnside on a May morning, saw in a meadow near the road, nine pair of malkins dancing in couples, and twelve dancing singly. One of the dancers suddenly exclaimed, "Weel footed Lucky Forgel," to which another replied, "Aha, but Jeany Mathers waurs me." He related the story; it is needless to add, that Lucky Forgel and Jeany Mathers have been good witches ever since.

But besides these vulgar witches, Forfar has to boast a necromancer who might have figured in Adelung's curious biography of fortunetellers, wizards, and quacks. William Grey, kirk-officer of Forfar, in the early part of the 18th century, has left behind him a name which embellishes many a fire-side tale in his native county. His intimacy with Satan was such, that he once procured his assistance to get sand from the bottom of the loch of Forfar, by drawing the waters, not down to his own dominions, but upon the land towards the town. This operation, however, having endanger ed the lives of the inhabitants, Grey pathetically prevailed on his Sable Majesty to remand them to their native bed, by the promise of his first born child in case he should marry. He was, however, too cunning for his master, dying unwedded. One of his most remarkable exploits I must relate. He was returning one night from a distant fair, when, in a lonely road, he was waylaid and robbed. The robbers were preparing to murder him, when he begged a few moments to pray. These were granted; and he farther begged the persons he was engaged with to stand at a little distance, with which request they also complied. Grey then knelt down, and taking a small knife out of his pocket, stuck it into the green sward up to the heft, saying aloud, "Dance ye there till some one come to release you," when the spell fell on the thieves, and they instantly danced while Grey went safely home. Next morning he remembered his knife, and said to a neighbour who was going the same road," Willy, when ye see some folk dancing by the hill side the way ye are going, look about ye for a small gully, draw it out of the ground, and give it me when ye re

turn." The request was complied with, and the moment the knife was taken up, the poor culprits, wearied with fourteen hours involuntary dancing, fell down exhausted.

I know not if we are more superstitious here than elsewhere. If so, we probably owe it to our constant intercourse with Scandinavia, the very home of all witchcraft, from the days of Odin downwards. Here Noroway is always talked of as the land to which witches repair for their unholy meetings. No old fashioned person will omit to break an eggshell if he sees one whole, lest it should serve to convey them thither. A child is kept quiet by telling it the Black Bull of Noroway shall take it. In short, the powers anciently ascribed to the Runic Lord, of arresting the flight of birds, and the course of the winds by a word, seem to me to be given to the whole people of the North. Supernatural acquirements and the gift of prophecy, appear to all uncultivated nations so very desirable, that I am not astonished that our peasants should believe in them, any more than that Lucan should have described a witch, or Virgil a sybil; but there is generally some great characteristic difference between the magicians of one country and those of another. The palmistry of India has now spread all over Europe; the divinations among the ancient Romans, by the inspection of the entrails of a victim, is no longer remembered by the people. The Scandinavians formerly practised the last; but they have never, I believe, used the first. Our Angus superstitions belong to the more common practice of the northern nations, and that these have subsisted so long among us, as well as in so distant a country as Norway, is a fact that I can only account for on the supposition of our being members of the same family, nursed on the same food, and brought up in the same habits. If it be worth while to trace the families of the earth, each to its genuine root, perhaps these slight indications of relationship may be useful, for if they are not of historical importance as facts, yet as circumstantial evidence they may rank after the proofs afforded by language and customs.

Bin Angus, Jan. 7, 1818.

M. G.

« PreviousContinue »