s in the reign of Nero, that a cinical mock-philosopher,
called Demetrius, saw, for the first time, one of these
pantomime compositions. Struck with the truth of the
representation, he could not help expressing the greatest marks
of astonishment: but whether his pride made him feel a sort of
shame for the admiration he had involuntarily shewn, or whether
naturally envious and selfish, he could not bear the cruel pain
of being forced to approve any thing but his own singularities;
he attributed to the music the strong impression that has been
made upon him: as, in that reign, a false philosophy very
naturally had a greater influence than the real, this man was,
it seems, of consequence enough for the managers of the dances
to take notice of this partiality, or at least to be piqued
enough, for their own honor, to lay a scheme for undeceiving
him. He was once more brought to their theatre, and seated in a
conspicuous part of the house, without his having been
acquainted with their intention.

The orchestra began: an actor opens the scene: on the moment of
his entrance, the simphony ceases, and the representation
continues. Without any aid but that of the steps, the positions
of the body, the movements of the arms, the piece is performed,
in which are successively represented the amours of Mars and
Venus, the Sun discovering them to the jealous husband of the
goddess, the snares which he sets for his faithless spouse and
her formidable gallant, the quick effect of the treacherous net,
which, while it compleats the revenge of Vulcan, only publishes
his shame, the confusion of Venus, the rage of Mars, the arch
mirth of the gods, who came to enjoy the sight.

The whole audience gave to the excellence of the performance its
due applause, but the Cinic, out of himself, could not help
crying out, in a transport of delight; "_No! this is not a
representation; it is the very thing itself._"

Much about the same time a dancer represented the _labors of_
Hercules. He retraced in so true a manner all the different
situations of that hero, that a king of Pontus, then at Rome,
and who had never seen such a sight before, easily followed the
thread of the action, and charmed with it, asked with great
earnestness of the emperor, that he would let him have with him
that extraordinary dancer, who had made such an impression upon
him.

"Do not, says he to Nero, be surprised at my request. I have
for borderers upon my kingdom, som