ΤΥΥΙΔΕΛΛΑ. Εὕδεις ἐν φθιμένοισι· μάτην σοφίης ἀρ ̓ ἐδρέψας In the ruins of the piazza, near the marketplace, though much damaged and defaced, there are still the vestiges of an elegant and magnificent pile. Possibly Zeno's portico once formed a part of this structure; at least Pausanias asserts, that the forum was near the place where that philosopher delivered his peculiar doctrines. At some little distance from hence is the Franciscan convent: the building appears to be of modern date; but one of the outer walls abuts against a small circular building, which, for some reason that I could not understand, has been called the lantern of Demosthenes. These are, I believe, the only remaining fragments of genuine antiquity in the city; there is, indeed, one other structure, which has been designated the Temple of the Eight Winds; but Pausanias makes no mention of it; and the clumsiness of the fabric, if it existed in his time, may well justify the omission. Its form is octagonal, the different sides having figures in relief of Æolus and his associates, with inflated cheeks and distended limbs. The south-west part of this building has been converted to a mosque; and on the recurrence of certain festivals, it is applied to the celebration of many tedious ceremonies. There is, however, in another quarter of the town, a much more splendid temple, consecrated to the Turkish worship. It is an elegant structure, and very chastely decorated in the interior, to which I obtained admission without any difficulty. A minute description of the ornaments would scarcely be interesting; but you may imagine a large saloon, with a lofty cupola in the centre, from which various lamps depend; galleries are carried round the sides, supported on arches; and the compartments are variously painted, and inlaid with different-coloured marbles. MY DEAR SIR, LETTER XX. To S. S****E, Esq. Athens, May, 1817. In the brightest period of the Athenian history, theatric exhibitions were in such estimation, that the representation of the tragedies of Sophocles alone is said to have cost the state more than the whole Peloponnesian war; and the profession of the stage became so creditable, that ambassadors were selected from the body of the players. This was the era when the Attic genius triumphed; when its liberty was pure and virtuous; when a citizen could have gone from a conference with Socrates, to an oration from Demosthenes, and have closed his evening with the Electra of Sophocles, the Phædra of Euripides, the moral scenes of Menander, or the sprightly comic muse of Aristophanes 1. The figure of the ancient theatres was usually the segment of a circle, of which the chord was 1 See Foote's admirable letter to the author of the "Remarks, Critical and Christian," on the "Minor." so extended, that the stage was easily brought within the view of every part of the building assigned to the spectators. The Korλov, or cavea, consisted of three divisions, placed in equal degrees above each other. That nearest the orchestra belonged to the magistrates and persons of rank; the middle rows were thrown open to the public, and the highest places were exclusively set apart for the women. Here, as in Italy, the seats were formed of stone, without any permanent covering; and it was left to the caprice or fancy of the fair occupant to mitigate the inconvenience of so coarse a material, by any mode which her taste or inclination might suggest. The readiest resource, on such occasions, was a cushion; in a delicate and adroit adjustment of which, the young CHESTERFIELDS of the age were accustomed to display some of their most successful attentions. A great master in the art of gallantry has remarked, fuit utile multis, Pulvinum facili composuisse manu!— Art. Amat. lib. i. 159. The structure of the interior appears to have been extremely simple, and a rigid adherence to the unities of time and place would necessarily limit the exertions of the mechanist and painter; a consideration that renders almost unintelligible the extravagant cost, which particular representations are said to have been attended with. In none of the ancient dramas are there any of those intricate plots or complexities of situation which have been introduced by later writers: the developement of character was the great object of the poet; and this object is surely effected in a much less degree by an application to the senses, than by appealing to the passions and affections. But where character is everything, the decorations of the piece might, one would imagine, be confined within a very moderate expense. Yet, however costly or gorgeous the pageant of the scene, the dialogue must have lost more than half its effect from the intervention of the masks with which the performers encumbered themselves, as a mode of extending the powers of the voice. It is extremely difficult to conceive how the lofty passages in Eschylus, or the tender eloquence of Euripides, could make a due impression when delivered under such disguise. All the conflict of the passions |