an to exclude all
subjects that have not those poetical fictions of Greek and
Roman antiquity for a basis; on the contrary, it might justly
pass for a barrenness of invention, the being reduced constantly
to borrow from them, but purely to point out a treasure, ever
open to the artist who shall know how to make a selection with
judgment and taste: always remembering, that the more
universally the fable is foreknown, the more easy will the task
be of rendering it intelligible in the execution.

There are, doubtless, some parts of the antient mithology so
obscure, and so little known, that any plan taken from them,
would, to the generality of the spectators, be as great a
novelty, as if the composer had himself invented the subject.
There are others again of which all the interest is entirely
antiquated and exploded.

As to the pieces of composition in the comic vein, there is
nothing like taking the subject of them from the most agreeable
and the most marking occurrences in real, current life; and the
stronger they are of the manners and practice of the times, the
nearer they will seem to the truth of nature, and the surer at
once to be understood, and to have a pleasing effect.

And here I shall take the liberty of concluding with offering
two instances of poetic dances; the one in the serious, the
other in the comic vein, which are furnished rather as hints of
the improvable nature of such compositions, than in the least
meant for models of them.

The first has for title,

VENUS and ADONIS.

The decoration represents a wood intersected by several walks,
which form an agreeable perspective of distances. At the bottom
of the theatre, and in the middle, there is a grand walk,
terminated by a small mount, on the summit of which is seen a
colonnade, that forms the peristile of a temple.

Venus, preceded by the Graces and several nimphs, comes out of
the temple, descends the mount, and advances to the front of the
wood; the simphony to be the most agreeable and melodious
imaginable, to announce the arrival of the goddess of love.

The Graces and the nimphs open the action, and, by their
gestures and steps, express their endeavour to sooth the
impatience of Venus on the absence of Adonis. The agitation in
which she is, ought to be painted on her countenance, and
expressed by the discomposure of her steps, marking her anxiety
and desire of seeing her lover.

The sound of the chace is heard, which betokens