most apt to violate. And Æschylus, as a leader in the development of the artistic spirit, could not but be rightly indignant at the arrogance of newly-gotten wealth. To him, as to all true Greeks, such arrogance was a sin against the gods. A man exulting in his great prosperity, and presuming on it, was a sight at which the gods were angry: they would impel such a man to violent deeds, and make his pride the instrument of his destruction. The moderate wealth and well-founded dignity of an ancient family had all charms for Æschylus; he loved all that was venerable, and hated arrogance above all crimes. Of this influence of his noble birth we shall find frequent indications.
But an Athenian citizen, though he might plume himself in private on his birth, would not think of disdaining to mingle on equal terms with the mass of his fellow-citizens in the field and the assembly. In many a stern battle Æschylus fought as readily as any; and his hardihood was not, as with some of our own well-born soldiers, a virtue rarely shown, called out by the occasion, and contrasting strangely with the almost effeminate indolence and luxury of ordinary days. Something of this character appeared afterwards in Alcibiades, but we may be very sure there was none of it in Æschylus. He, like all the Greeks of his day, was hardy and warlike always; more warlike than most, almost fierce perhaps he was; and though he could turn to elegant pursuits,—though he was a courtier and a poet as well as a soldier,—yet this was not to be noticed in him as an exceptional combination. For
