coffin, a glass tear-bottle. Antiquaries think, that when the antients died, their friends, making loud lament, and sobbing grievously, sat with their elbows on their knees, holding a bottle to each eye, into which their tears flowed; and it is supposed that the bottles, being afterwards corked, were deposited with the body. Be this as it may, I am quite convinced that a modern white cambric handkerchief will absorb ten times more grief and sorrow than it is possible for my little lachrymal to contain ; -a clear proof that the antients were not, after all, very tender-hearted. In my third experiment, I scafiated long and patiently. At length I came to a stone, which, being removed, another was brought to light. Reasoning analogically, from the position of the two stones, I concluded that this belonged to a sepulchre; and, in the end, the sagacious conjecture was confirmed, but the coffin was empty. The diggers, on such occasions, usually abandon the research, but having heard that vases are frequently found under the sarcophagus, I raised this one up, and there was a treasure! four of the most beautiful specimens of the Athenian undertaker's art and taste. To such exquisite utensils

permit me to apply the classical eulogium which Chandler bestows on the edifices constructed during the mayoralty of Pericles, a bad translation of an idea pilfered from Plutarch. "A certain freshness bloomed upon them, and preserved their faces uninjured; as if they possessed a never-fading spirit, and had a soul insensible to age!" Did you know, before, that buildings had souls. I have been told, that even when the Speaker, the clerks, and forty members, were present, that there was not a soul in a certain public house.

I do not well know to what blooming freshness the Doctor particularly alludes; but, when I visited the Acropolis, I observed that one of the pieces of the entablatures of the Parthenon was stained with colour; and mentioning the circumstance to Monsieur Fauvelle, the French Consul, who is both an artist and an antiquary, he informed me that he had particularly noticed the same thing, and was convinced, not only that the sculptures of that temple had been painted, but that it was a common custom of the antients to paint their statues. Among other things, in confirmation of this opinion, he mentioned that there is at Paris an antique bronze statue, in

which the paint is still visible in the corners of the eyes, and among the folds of the drapery. As the antients used only water-colours, it is not surprizing that the evidence on this point is so trifling.

Whether Theseus, who, you know, was both a demi-god and a dancing-master, invented the dance which I have seen to-day, I confess myself unable to determine, but I will give you an account of it. Hearing a disorderly kind of singing approaching in the streets, I opened one of the windows of the lantern of Demosthenes, and looking out, saw a crowd of boys. Immediately two tambourine players, with mad actions, emerged from behind the intercepting corner of our garden-wall. After them came two scrapers on the lyre, followed by a wretch, who tormented a poor fiddle to such a degree, that my very heart thrilled at its shrieks; and presently about twenty young fellows, drunk, holding each other by the hand, made their appearance. These were the dancers. The leader was shaking a handkerchief over his head, admiring at the same time his feet, which were cutting strange capers. Then came a train of

melancholious singers; and then they all went away. Whether this was the crane-dance of Theséus, or a choral dance, I have not been able to decide, nor would it be of the smallest consequence if I could.

Yours, &c.

LETTER XXIV.

ATHENS, March 17.

WHEN I had finished my letter, last night, taken my supper and retired to bed, Fancy, as usual, when any thing new has occurred, began to theorize, endeavouring to persuade Reason, that there'is as great an universality of resemblance in the manners and customs of mankind, as there is in their features and forms. Dancing being the subject of their discussion, Reason said that it was a barbarous amusement, which ceased as mankind advanced in civilization and knowledge

observing that we never heard of sages being addicted to dancing; and therefore, as sages are the wisest and most enlightened of mankind, all who approximate to them in wisdom must, of course, like them, despise the ridiculous exercise of dancing. Fancy replied, that she had no doubt of the soundness of the opinion; and it would follow, that society, in its progress towards perfection (for Fancy, you know, is as staunch a perfectibilian as Madam de Stael or even the late Mrs.

Godwin herself), "It would follow," said she, "that at equal degrees of civilization, there must be similar habits of dancing acquired; and therefore, according to my idea of a universal similarity in human manners, there must be also a corresponding resemblance in human dances." Memory, who had all this time sat seemingly asleep, but in fact deeply attentive to the discussion, opened her eyes, and after looking at Reason and then at Fancy, as if in doubt to which she ought to address herself, cautiously stated, that "The dance which Mr. Galt saw, from the window of the lantern of Demosthenes, was performed by Albanians; and Dr. Chandler mentions, in his book, that Albanian women, once a