tion of affairs. They use no elaborate gestures, and make no attempt to express feeling by changes of countenance—such efforts would be useless in so large a place, even if the face were not hidden by the mask—they stand generally still in solemn dignified attitudes, so as to look very much like coloured statues or figures in a bas-relief; and they utter the sonorous verse in a kind of recitative, yet so distinctly that the words may be accurately heard by all the audience, who would instantly perceive and notice any slip in accent or pronunciation. After perhaps a quarter of an hour, or generally less, the actors, or one of them, retire to set on foot the main action of the piece: then the chorus, if they have not already entered, appear in solemn procession, and take their station in the orchestra to sing. There are usually twelve of them, all dressed alike as old men, or maidens, or soldiers, or as the case may be, and they enter generally three abreast, and form and wheel with the stately regularity of a regiment. They move in time to music, marching or dancing, and sing as they advance a solemn hymn, which dimly prophesies the events that are to come, pointing out their connection with the past, and showing how all the history is ordered by the providence or vengeance of the gods. They are marshalled under a leader who walks in their midst; and if they engage, as sometimes they do, in dialogue with the actor, this leader is their spokesman. As they group themselves round the altar, they still sing their grand mysterious chant, and there from time to time they execute various complicated dances, illustra-
