given, namely, the “unwritten and unshaken laws of Heaven”. Any idea that the passage was inserted in “later times” is rendered impossible by the fact that Aristotle[310] quotes it (about 340 B.C.) and the presumption is that the words are the poet’s own. Indeed, the “difficulty” exists only in the minds of those who attribute inconsistency in a character to incompetence in the playwright. But while illogical people exist it is hard to see why a dramatist should not depict them. Antigone’s “reason” is stupid, no doubt, but what could be more dramatic? It is no novelty that a person capable of courageous action cannot argue well about it; there is a logic of the heart that has little to do with the logic of the brain. Antigone _has_ no reasons; she has only an instinct. Here, and here only, Sophocles has pressed this point home, and the popular view has no resource but to reject the passage. Whom does Sophocles himself approve, the king or his opponent? Neither. Attention to the plot will make this clear. The _peripeteia_ or “recoil” is the revelation that the gods are angered by the pollution arising from the body, and that owing to their anger grave peril threatens Creon’s family. It is this news which causes his change of purpose. Polynices is therefore buried by the king himself despite his edict. These facts show that ultimately both Antigone and Creon are wrong. Heaven is against Creon, as he is forced at last to see—Antigone’s appeal to the everlasting unwritten laws is in this sense justified. But Antigone is wrong also. She should have left the gods to vindicate their own law. Such a statement may seem ignobly oblivious of religion, human nature, and the courage which she shows. But it is not denied that Antigone is noble and valiant: she may be both, yet mistaken and wrong-headed. One is bound to consider the facts of the plot. Why is she at first undetected yet compelled by circumstances to perform the “burial”-rites twice? Simply to remind us that, if Creon is resolved, she _cannot_ “bury” Polynices. The king has posted guards, who remove the pious dust which she has scattered; and this gruesome contest could continue indefinitely. She throws away her life, _and with no possible confidence that her brother will in the end be buried_. It is precisely this blindness of hers which makes the tragedy—her union of noble courage and unswerving affection with inability to see the crude facts of a hateful situation. Her obstinacy brings about the punishment of Creon’s obstinacy, for Eurydice’s death is caused by Hæmon’s, and Hæmon’s by Antigone’s. Had she not intervened all these lives would have been saved. The whole action might have dwindled to a mere revolting incident: the king’s barbarity, the anger of the gods, and the king’s submission. The tragedy would have disappeared: it is Antigone’s splendid though perverse valour which creates the drama.