The fate of Pentheus in our author's noble play, the "Bacchæ," appears to
have given origin to the tradition that he himself was torn to pieces by
dogs. If we reflect that this play was probably the last of his works, the
mistake seems a plausible one. The death of Euripides, which probably
happened in the ordinary course of nature, has, like that of Æschylus, been
associated with the marvelous.

The Athenians vainly craved the honor of giving a resting-place to the
ashes of their philosopher-poet. He was buried at Pella, but a cenotaph at
Athens showed that his countrymen had not forgotten Euripides. His death
took place B.C. 406.

The inferiority of our author to the greater tragedians, prevents our
feeling much desire to enter upon the respective merits and demerits of his
several plays, especially as we are completely anticipated by Schlegel,
with whose masterly analysis every reader ought to be acquainted.
Nevertheless, a few general remarks may, perhaps, be not wholly
unprofitable.

It has been truly remarked, that tragedy, in no small degree, owed its
downfall to Euripides. Poetry was gradually superseded by rhetoric,
sublimity by earnestness, pathos by reasoning. Thus, Iphigenia and Macaria
give so many good reasons for dying, that the sacrifice appears very small,
and a modern wag in the upper regions of the theatre would, at the end of
the speech of the latter heroine, almost have exclaimed, "Then why don't
you die?"

It has been said, that our poet drew the characters of life as he found
them, but bad as his characters are, they exhibit only a vulgar wickedness.
Unable to portray a Clytæmnestra, he revels in the continual paltriness of