The Electra of Sophocles betrays by the plainest indications that it is not a composition complete and rounded within itself, but only a fragment having the qualified completeness which fits it to contribute towards a larger symmetry. The action embraced falls short, it is very true but little, of full conclusion; Clytemnestra and her accomplice Aegisthus fall by the avenging sword of Orestes, and no such hints are admitted of the future troubles of the avenger, as in the treatment of the same subject by Aeschylus prepare for the concluding drama, the Eumenides. The moral dilemma, however, is neither wrought out to its complete statement nor to its most impressive solution. I find indeed in the play an illustration of a well-defined heroic nature and the eventualities of circumstance colliding with exalted character on the most critical emergencies; still we rise from the scene with sympathies in agitation—with minds eager upon interesting inquiries not pacified by adequate response.

The Electra is the second of the preserved plays of Sophocles—the Antigone being another—which bears the name of a heroine for its title; there is this further and more intimate analogy between the two plays, that both the heroines are called on, or believe themselves so, to interfere between rulers of the state and their political victims in the interest of domestic piety, and in doing so exercise an influence and acquire an importance that elevate them to the dignity of the tragic stage.