nesses, she stands out before us in a form so real and life-like, that we cannot believe her to have been a mere ideal creation. Ismene, too, with all her gentleness and timidity, though less likely to attract admiration, will be remembered with no less affection than her high-souled sister. Many, perhaps, will prefer the affectionate Ismene, "The being not too bright or good, to Antigone's unbending resoluteness. Many a one may remember the time when, in looking upon the picture which Sophocles has drawn of the two sisters, while the elder is endeavouring to persuade her companion to join in the dangerous task of paying the last token of respect to their brother's corpse; and so vividly is the scene described, that it appears rather a picture or a reality, than a mere description-many a one will remember that he gazed with greater love upon the timid affectionate eyes from which glances alternately resolution or doubt, each mingled with love, than upon the enthusiastic firmness of Antigone. Dr. Johnson said that he never felt the least interest in the distresses of Richardson's Clarissa Harlowe, because he was sure she would behave prudently in the most difficult situation. Antigone is not exactly of this insipidly perfect character, but yet her character is so definite, that it is always clear in what way she will act. One motive with her outweighs every other. Hence, though more likely to gain admiration, she does not always, when compared with her sister, excite the proportionately superior interest which her more prominent position in the events of the story would lead us to anticipate. It has been supposed by some scholars, that the whole range of narration which relates to the history of Thebes, when governed by the descendants of Labdacus, is a mere collection of poetic fictions, intended to illustrate the mysterious operation of a malignant fate. It is, however, the general opinion that the main outlines of the story are correct, though the picture may have been filled up in some measure according to the different fancy of the poets. Adrastus, the Argive king, who led the host that endeavoured with so fatal an issue to restore Polynices to the throne of Thebes, for example, is supposed, upon the evidence afforded by the etymology of his name, "the inevitable one," to have been a fictitious person. It is with pleasure such as can be conceived by those alone who have often whiled away an hour in purusing the story of the race of Edipus, so popular among the classic poets, that we present to the public the following interesting fragments, as yet unknown beyond the range of a limited circle;-documents which will set at rest for ever the disputed question about the authenticity of the early Theban legends. They consist of a series of letters, principally the composition of Ismene, the daughter of Edipus, and one of her friends named Cleodoxe; of whom, history, if we mistake not, makes no mention; but who appears, by incidental remarks in her letters, to have been a descendant of Amphion, the musical architect of Thebes. This is the more remarkable, as classical writers state that the race of Amphion was by this time extinct. Perhaps, however, their remarks apply to his want of male descendants. The original MSS. are in the possession of the translator, but to the many who will be anxious to examine them, we are happy in being enabled to state, that by applying at the British Museum, they will receive from Mr. Panizzi, whose urbanity is so well known, all the information which he possesses on the subject. Being, if genuine, of an earlier date than the siege of Troy, they may be considered as setting at rest, the question as to whether the Homeric poems were originally committed to writing at the time of their composition, or handed down through a succession of rhapsodists. It is true, that it does not follow as a necessary consequence, from the fact of Cadmus and his descendants being versed in the use of written language, that the inhabitants of other parts of Greece must, therefore, have been possessed of the same acquirement. No one, however, will be disposed to admit, that the author of the Iliad could possibly have been behind the most gifted of his time, either in knowledge or intelligence. In many points, these letters do not agree with those legends of that period, which are at present familiarly known to the learned world, and sometimes, indeed, they almost contradict one another in the description of the same event. Generally, however, the differences are of a trifling nature, and such as will, to the candid mind, be an evidence that these MSS. are a genuine, rather than a spurious production. There is so strong a resemblance between some portions of the following letters and the Thebaid of Statius, as to lead to the suspicion that he may have had access to them in the composition of his poem. For the most part, wherever there is any variation, it seems to have been caused by a desire, pardonable enough in a poet, of increasing the vividness of his narration by a slight sacrifice of prosaic exactness. In the various accounts which have been given by poets and others of the misfortunes of the house of Labdacus, there are many opposing and contradictory statements with respect to the death of Edipus and Jocasta. Thus in the "Phoenissæ" of Euripides, Edipus is represented as living at the death of his sons, and being then driven into banishment by Creon; while, according to Sophocles, he dies in Colonus, soon after the flight of Polynices from Thebes. It appears, however, that they were all wrong in the date which they assign to the death of Edipus; for, from the following letters, it may be gathered that Antigone had returned to Thebes, after the mysterious termination in Colonus of her father's life, before the banishment of Polynices. The translations of the whole of the MSS. are not here included; the remainder will be given in a subsequent number. ISMENE TO CLEODOXE. It is as we thought, my dear Cleodoxe, my brother is at Argos. Eteocles received the news this morning, and they are now all in consultation about what they are to do. O may the gods guide their counsels, so that peace may at last be restored to our unhappy family! I ventured to say so to Eteocles this morning, when he paid me his usual visit. He did not answer me, but looked so stern, that your poor friend was quite frightened, and dared not ask him any more about Polynices. Ah! if Antigone had been there! CLEODOXE TO ISMENE. Be cheerful, my dear Ismene. The venerable goddesses will spare your unruly brothers, for your sweet sake. And perhaps it is as well that Polynices has gone, for they never could have agreed, you know. It would be hard, indeed, for any one after he had once tasted the sweets of empire, to resign them without a struggle, much more for men of such aspiring temper as your brothers. Well; they are separated now, and I suppose we shall have some quiet at last, if that old pardon, dearest, I forgot he was your uncle; but you know every one says that though he did seem so anxious to prevent your brothers from quarrelling, and made such long speeches about peace and unity to them, yet he always looked chagrined if they followed his advice, and seemed inclined to make matters up. But seriously, my dearest girl, why should you make yourself unhappy about them? Your brothers have a taste for quarrels ; pray let them enjoy themselves in their own way, and we will in ours. Tears are, no doubt, a very necessary part of a woman's armory, and formidable, indeed, when spring ing from the sweet eyes of a maiden of fifteen, but then it's no use crying if there's nobody to see you. I told Atys that you were melancholy the poor lad teased me to tell him the reason, and now nothing will suffice him, but he must be miserable too. your maidens to the fountain this evening? Will you come with Do, and we will be merry in spite of your Uncle Creon. ISMENE TO CLEODOXE. My dearest Cleodoxe,-I was very anxious to learn all that I could about my brother, for at such a distance from home, who can tell what may have happened to him? My maidens, too, pressed me very much to do it, but I would not listen to them,-till old Aglaura, our nurse, said she thought it would be right, and then I let them send for the messenger. Did I do wrong? He came in, and having made an obeisance, stood awaiting our commands. "I wish you to tell us," said I, "how fares the royal Polynices?" The substance of his account was this. While preparing to leave Argos, he heard a report that two strangers had arrived at the palace, but that they would not disclose who they were, even though, as it was said, King Adrastus had requested them to do so. All kinds of rumours were circulated respecting them. The court heralds* affirmed that one, from his being robed in a lion's skin, must be a relation of the Jove-born Hercules. Singularly enough, the other was arrayed in the shaggy hide of a boar. It was whispered about that the latter was Tydeus, the youngest son of Eneus king of Calydon, and brother to that young hero who slew the Calydonian boar. Nothing, however, could be discovered of the real name and country of the first stranger, who, I need not tell you, was no other than my dear brother Polynices. In answer to the king's inquiries about his country and parentage, he would give no other answer than that he sprung from an illustrious race. At the banquet, however, which the king gave the next day, and at which the two strangers were present, when the feast was over, and ere the wine-cup had been passed round, the folding-doors, which led to the apartments of the women, were thrown wide, and there entered, attended by a train of noble maidens, two of the princesses, daughters of the royal Adrastus. * That the foundation of the science of heraldry was laid even at this early date, we have good evidence in the description given in the "Seven against Thebes" of the shields of the chieftains of the Argive armу: EπTа ε Onßas, 382, &c. They did not come down the steps into the hall, but remaining on the platform, in front of the doors by which they had entered, looked upon the scene which lay before them. When the murmur of admiration, caused by their entrance, had subsided, the king rose, and addressing Polynices a second time, requested him to inform them whether the guest who thus honoured them with his presence, were a god come down to earth, or a hero of divine origin; assuring him, that were he even an enemy, the hospitality which he had shared, should be a pledge to him, not only of safety, but of honour. Polynices rose, and appeared as if about still to frame excuses, till happening to glance at the upper end of the hall, he seemed to see something that changed his resolution. "King," said he, "know that I am the unhappy son of the ill-fated Edipus." A shudder ran throughout the assembly. He sat down, and hid his face with his hands. The king bade him fear no longer the persecution of destiny, and said that the Erinnys which had poured down its bitterest curses upon the head of the father, had but driven the son into a secure haven of rest. Ah! might it but be so! I was so affected by his story that I could scarcely refrain from tears. Aglaura, seeing me, conducted the stranger out of the apartment, but not before I had offered him my thanks. You must pardon me for not meeting you at the fountain, as you desired. Anxiety about my brothers, and the melancholy recollections of my poor father which oppressed me, and which the story of the messenger recalled to my mind, even more vividly than usual, made me so unhappy, that I should have spoiled your enjoyment. CLEODOXE TO ISMENE. Has your sister Antigone any feeling? She came this morning to pay a visit to my mother-the first since her return from Colonus. My mother, thinking that she must be in very low spirits after all that she had gone through, attempted, in her way, to give her some comfort in her distress. 66 It certainly was not of the most original, nor indeed of the most consolatory nature; consisting of such moral axioms as these “ All must die;" "Destiny brings sorrow to all men ;" and so forth. Your sister quietly listened to all that she had to say, and then began to talk quite unconcernedly about other matters. You, I am sure, my dear Ismene, would have been bathed in tears. I felt inclined to cry myself, when I saw Antigone's pale face; but |