o sit by her, and would fain have undressed me for the
bath. I excused myself with some difficulty. They being however all
so earnest in persuading me, I was at last forced to open my shirt,
and shew them my stays; which satisfied them very well; for, I saw,
they believed I was locked up in that machine, and that it was not in
my own power to open it, which contrivance they attributed to my
husband,--I was charmed with their civility and beauty, and should
have been very glad to pass more time with them; but Mr
W---- resolving to pursue his journey next morning early, I was in
haste to see the ruins of Justinian's church, which did not afford me
so agreeable a prospect as I had left, being little more than a heap
Of stones.

ADIEU, madam, I am sure I have now entertained you with an account of
such a sight as you never saw in your life, and what no book of
travels could inform you of, as 'tis no less than death for a man to
be found in one of these places.

LET. XXVII.

TO THE ABBOT ----.

_Adrianople, April_ 1. O. S. 1717.

You see I am very exact in keeping the promise you engaged me to
make. I know not, however, whether your curiosity will be satisfied
with the accounts I shall give you, though I can assure you, the
desire I have to oblige you to the utmost of my power, has made me
very diligent in my enquiries and observations. 'Tis certain we have
but very imperfect accounts of the manners and religion of these
people; this part of the world being seldom visited, but by
merchants, who mind little but their own affairs; or travellers, who
make too short a stay, to be able to report any thing exactly of
their own knowledge. The Turks are too proud to converse familiarly
with merchants, who can only pick up some confused informations,
which are generally false; and can give no better account of the ways
here, than a French refugee, lodging in a garret in Greek-street,
could write of the court of England. The journey we have made from
Belgrade hither, cannot possibly be passed by any out of a public
character. The desert woods of Servia, are the common refuge of
thieves, who rob fifty in a company, so that we had need of all our
guards to secure us; and the villages are so poor, that only force
could extort from them necessary provisions. Indeed the janizaries
had no mercy on their poverty, killing all the poultry and sheep they
could find, without asking to whom they belonged; while the wretched
owner