A TREATISE ON THE ART OF DANCING. 

By Giovanni-Andrea Gallini. 

LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR; And Sold by R. DODSLEY, in Pall-Mall; T. BECKET and P. A. DE HONDT,
in the Strand; J. DIXWELL in St. Martin's-Lane, near Charing-Crofs; AND At Mr. BREMNER'S Mufic
Shop, oppofite Somerfet Houfe, in the Strand. 

MDCCLXXII. 

THE TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

Of the Antient Dance p. 1 7 

Of Dancing in General 49 

Of fundry Requifites for the Perfection of the Art 

89 

Some Thoughts on the Utility of Learning to Dance, 

139 

Summary Account of various Kinds of Dances in 

181 

Of Pantomimes 227 ADVERTISEMENT. 

WHAT I have here to fay is rather in the nature of an apology than of a preface or advertifement.
The very title of a Treatife upon the art of dancing by a dancing-mafter, implicitly threatens
fo much either of the exageration of the profeffion, or of the recommendation of himfelf, and
most probably of both, that it cannot be improper for me to A be- befpeak the reader's favorable
precaution againft fo natural a prejudice. My principal motive for hazarding this production
is, indifputably, gratitude. The approbation with which my endeavours to pleafe in the dances
of my compofition have been honored, infpired me with no fentiment fo ftrongly as that of defiring
to prove to the public, that fenfibility of its favor; which, in an artift, is more than a duty.
It is even one of the means of obtaining its favor, by its infpiring that aim at perfection, in
in order to the deferving it, which is unknown to a merely mercenary fpirit. Under the influence
of that fentiment, it occurred to me, that it might not be, unpleafing to the public to have a
fair ftate of the pretentions of this art to its encouragement, and even to its efteem, laid
before it, by a practitioner of this art. In ftating thefe pretentions, there is nothing I fhall
more avoid than the enthufiafm arifing from that vanity or felf-conceit, which leads people
into the ridicule of over-rating the A2 merit merit or importance of their profeffion. I fhall
not, for example, prefume to recommend dancing as a virtue; but I may, without prefumption,
reprefent it as one of the principal graces, and, in the juft light, of being employed in adorning
and making Virtue amiable, who is far from rejecting fuch affiftence. In the view of a genteel
exercife, it ftrengthens the body; in the view of a liberal accomplifhment, it vifibly diffufes
a graceful agility through it; in the view of a private or public entertainment, ter- it is not
only a general inftinct of nature, expreffing health and joy by nothing fo ftrongly as by dancing
but is fufceptible withall of the moft elegant collateral embellifhments of tafte, from poetry,
mufic, painting, and machinery. 

One of the greateft and moft admired inftitutors of youth, whofe fine tafte has been allowed
clear from the leaft tincture of pedantry, Quintilian recommends efpecially the talent of
dancing, as conducive to to the formation of orators; not, as he very juftly obferves, that
an orator fhould retain any thing of the air of a dancing-mafter, in his motion or gefture; but
that the impreffion from the graces of that art fhould have infenfibly ftoln into his manner,
and fafhioned it to pleafe. 

Even that auftere critic, Scaliger, made the principles of it fo far his concern, that he was
able perfonally to fatisfy an Emperor's curiofity, as to the nature and meaning of of the Pirrhic
dance, by executing it, before him. 

All this I mention purely to obviate the prepoffeffion of the art being fo frivolous, fo unworthy
of the attention of the manly and grave, as it is vulgarly, or on a fuperficial view, imagined.
It is not high notions of it that I am fo weak as to aim at impreffing; all that I wifh is to give juft
ones: it being perhaps as little eligible, for want of confideration, to fee lefs in this art
than than it really deferves, than, from a fond partiality for it, to fee more than there is in
it. A A TREATISE ON THE ART of DANCING. Of the Antient Dance. 

In moft of the nations among the antients, dancing was not only much practifed, but conftituted
not even an inconfiderable part of their religious rites and ceremonies. The accounts we have
of the facred dances, of the Jews efpecially, as well as of other nations, evidently atteft
it. B The 

The Greeks, who probably took their firft ideas of this art, as they did of moft others, from
Egypt, where it was in great efteem and practice, carried it up to a very high pitch. They were
in general, in their bodies, extremely well conformed, and difpofed for this exercife. Many
of them piqued themfelves on rivalling, in excellence of execution, the moft celebrated mafters
of the art. That majeftic air, fo natural to them, while they preferved their liberty, the delicacy
of their tafte, and the cultivated agility of their limbs, all qualified them for making an
agreeable figure in this kind of entertainment. Nothing could be more graceful than the motion
of their arms. They did not fo much regard the nimblenefs and capering with the legs and feet,
on which we lay fo great a ftrefs. Attitude, grace, grace, expreffion, were their principal
object. They executed fcarce any thing in dancing, without fpecial regard to that expreffion
which may be termed the life and foul of it. 

Their fteps and motions were all diftinct, clear, and neat; proceeding from a ftrength fo fuppled,
as to give their joints all the requifite flexibility and obedience to command. 

They did not fo much affect the moderately comic, or half ferious, as they did the great, the
pompous, or heroic ftile of dance. They fpared for no pains nor coft, towards the perfection
of their dances. The figures were exquifite. The leaft number of the figurers were forty or
fifty. Their dreffes were magnificent and in tafte. Their decorations were fublime. A B2 competent
competent fkill in the theatrical, or actor's art, and a great one in that of dancing, was neceffary
for being admitted into the number of figurers. In fhort, every thing was in the higheft order,
and very fit to prove the miftake of thofe who imagine that the dances are, in operas for example,
no more than a kind of neceffary expletive of the intervals of the acts, for the repofe of the
fingers. 

The Greeks confidered dancing in another point of light; all their feftivals and games, which
were in greater number than in other countries, were intermixed and heightened with dances
peculiarly compofed in honor of their deities. From before their altars, and from their places
of worfhip, they were foon introduced upon their theatres, to which they were undoubtedly
a prior invention. The ftrophe, antiftrophe, and and epode, were nothing but certain meafures
performed by a chorus of dancers, in harmony with the voice; certain movements in dancing correfpondent
to the fubject, which were all along confidered as a conftitutive part of the performance.
The dancing even governed the meafure of the ftanzas; as the fignification of the words ftrophe
and antiftrophe, plainly imports, they might be properly called danced himns. The truth is,
that tragedy and comedy, made alfo originally to be fung, but which, in procefs of time, upon
truer principles of nature, came to be acted and declaimed, were but fuper-inductions to the
chorufes, of which, in tragedy efpecially, the tragic-writers, could not well get rid, as
being part of the religious ceremony. This 

This folves, in a great meafure, the feeming abfurdity of their interference with the fubject
of the drama: being deemed fo indifpenfable a part of the performance, that the fcene itfelf
was hardly more fo: confequently, there was no fecret fuppofed to be more violated by fpeaking
before them, than before the inanimate fcene itfelf. But what was at leaft excufable, on this
footing, in the antients, would be an unpardonable abfurdity in the moderns. 

Athenaeus, who has left us an account of many of the antient dances, as the Mactrifmus , a dance
entirely for the female fex, the Moloffic , the Perfian Sicinnis , &c. obferves, that in the
earliest ages of antiquity, dancing was efteemed an exercife, not only not inconfiftent with
decency and gravity, but but practifed by perfons of the greateft worth and honor. Socrates
himself, learnt the art, when he was already advanced in years. 

Cautious as I am of ufing a falfe argument, I fhould fay, that the making dances a part of their
religious ceremonies, was a mark of their attributing even a degree of fanctity to them; but
that I am aware there were many things that found a place in their feftivals and games, which,
among thofe heathens, were fo far from having any thing of facred in them, that they did not event
fhow a refpect for common decency or morality. 

But as, to dancing, it may be prefumed, that that exercife was confidered as having nothing
intrinfically in it, contrary to purity of manners or chaftity, fince fince it made a confiderable
part of the worfhip paid to the prefiding goddefs of that virtue, Diana, in the feftivals confecrated
to her. Her altar was held in the higheft veneration by the antients. Temples of the greateft
manificence were erected in honor of this goddefs. Who does not know the great Diana of Ephefus?
The affemblies in her temples were folemn, and at ftated periods. None were admitted but virgins
of the moft fpotlefs character. They executed dances before the altar, in honor of the deity,
with a moft graceful decency; invoking her continual infpiration of pure thoughts, and her
protection of their chaftity. Thofe of them, who diftinguifhed themfelves above the reft,
by fuperior graces of performance, received rewards not only from the prieftefs of Diana,
but from their own parents. Nor were the young men men, but curioufly inquifitive, as to who
particularly excelled on thefe occafions. Diftinction in thefe dances was a great incentive
to love, and produced many happy unions. 

Such of thefe virgins as married, retained, in quality of wives, fuch a veneration for this
fort of worfhip, that they formed an affembly of matrons, who on fet days, performed much the
fame devotion, imploring, in concert, of the goddefs, a continuance of her gifts, and of that
fpirit of purity, the fitteft to make them edifying examples of conjugal love and maternal
tendernefs. 

Innocent amufements having been ever reputed allowable, and even neceffary expedients for
relaxing both mind C and and body from the fatigue of ferious or robuft occupations, Diana had
her temples, efpecially in countries proper for hunting, where the parents ufed to refort
with their children, and encouraged them to partake of the diverfions in which dancing had
a principal fhare. 

The antients have left us an unaccountable defcription of the Bacchanalians, whofe deportment
forms a ftriking contraft to the decent regularity obferved in the worfhip of Diana. The Bacchanalians
ftrolled the country, and, in the courfe of that vagabond fcheme; erected temporary huts,
their refidence being always fhort wherever they came. In their intoxication they feemed
to defy all decency and order; affecting noife, and a kind of tumultuous, boifterous joy, in
which there could never be any true pleafure or harmony. mony. They were, in the licentioufnefs
of their manners, a nuifance to fociety; which they fcandalized and difturbed by their riots,
their mad frolics, and even by their quarrels. Their heads and waifts were bound with ivy, and
in their hands they brandifhed a thirfus, or kind of lance, garnifhed with vine-leaves. When
by any foulnefs of weather they were driven into their huts, they paffed their time in a kind
of noify merriment, of fhoutings and dithirambic catches, accompanied by timpanums, by cymbals,
by fiftrums, and other inftruments, in which noife was more confulted than mufic, and correfponded
to the fort of time they kept to them, in the frantic agitations of their Bacchic enthufiafm.
The Corybantes were called fo from their diforderly dancing as they went along. C2 The 

The Pirrhic dance differs not much from Plato's military dance. The invention of it is moft
generally attributed to Pirrhus, fon of Achilles; at leaft this opinion is countenanced by
Lucian, in his treatife upon dancing; though, it is moft probably derived from the Memphitic
dance of Egypt. The manner of it was to dance armed to the found of inftruments. Xenophon takes
notice of thefe dances in armour, efpecially among the Thracians, who were fo warlike a people.
In their dance to mufic, they exhibited the imitation of a battle. They executed various evolutions;
they feemed to wound each other mortally, fome falling down as if they had received their death-wound;
while thofe who had given the blow fung to the fong of triumph, called ed Sitalia , and then withdrew,
leaving the reft to take up their feeming dead comrade, and to make preparations for his mock-funeral,
in the pantomime ftile of dance. He has alfo defcribed the dance of the Magnefians, in which
they reprefented their tilling the ground, in an attitude, and in readinefs for defence, againft
expected moroders. They put themfelves in a pofture of protecting their plough, with other
motions expreffive of their refolution and courage, all adapted to the found of the flute.
The moroders arrive, prevail, and bind the hufbandmen to their plough, and this terminates
the dance. Sometimes the dance varies, and the husbandmen prevailing, bind the moroders.

The fame author mentions alfo the Myfians who danced in armour, and ufed a particular fort of
peliae or targets, on on which they received the blows. In fhort, thefe armed dances had different
names beftowed upon them, according to the countries in which they were ufed. 

The Egyptians and Greeks were extravagantly expenfive in their public feftivals, of which,
dancing always conftituted a confiderable part. 

The Romans, among whom the more coarfe and licentious dances derived from the Hetrufcans,
had at firft prevailed, came at length to adopt the improvements of tafte, and confequently
of decency and regularity; the feftivals, of which dancing was to compofe the principal entertainment,
were adapted to the feafon of the year. 

Every autumn, for example, it was a conftant cuftom, for thofe who could afford afford the expence,
to build a magnificent faloon in the midft of a delightful garden. This ball-room was decorated
in the moft brilliant manner: At one end of the ball-room ftood a ftatue of Pomona, furrounded
with a great number of bafkets made in the neateft manner, and full of all the fineft fruits that
the feafon produced. Thefe, with the ftatue, were placed under a canopy hung round with clufters
of real grapes and vine-leaves, fo artfully difpofed as to appear of the natural growth. Thefe
ferved to refrefh both the eye and mouth. The performers of the ball went up to this part of the
faloon, in couples, proceffionally, to avoid confufion. Each youth took care to help his partner
to what fhe liked beft, and then returned, in the fame regular manner, to the other end of the
room, when they ferved what remained to the reft of the the fpectators. After which the ball
immediately began. 

I was fhown, by an Italian painter, a curious picture in his poffeffion, of the antients celebrating
one of this kind of feftivals. The attitudes into which the figures were put, and which appeared
to have been drawn for the conclufion of the ball, were beautiful beyond imagination. 

In winter there were balls in the city of Rome; for which the appropriated apartments were commodious;
and where the illuminations were fo great, that notwithftanding the ufual rigor of that feafon,
the room was fufficiently warm. 

Round the room there were tables and ftands, on which was placed the defert; and there were generally
twelve perfons fons chofen to diftribute the refrefhments, and do the honors of the ball. The
whole was conducted with the utmoft decency and regularity, while Rome preferved her refpect
for virtue and innocence of manners. 

By the beft accounts procurable, their ferious dances were properly interfperfed and inlivened
with comic movements. Their firft fteps were folemn and majeftic, and, by couples they turned
under each other's arms; and when the whole thus turned together, they could not but afford
a pleafing fight. After which they refumed the ferious again, and fo proceeded alternately
till they concluded the dance. 

In the fpring, the country became naturally the fcene of their dances. The beft companies reforted,
efpecially to D fuch fuch villages as were noted for the moft pure and falubrious fprings of
water. If the weather was mild, they danced upon an open green; if not, they formed a large covered
pavilion, in the middle of which they placed the ftatue of Flora, ornamented with flowers,
round which they performed their dances. Firft the youth, then thofe of riper years; and laftly,
thofe of a more advanced age. After each of thefe divifions had danced feparately, they all
joined and formed one great circle. The moft diftinguifhed for excellence in the performing
there dances, had for reward the privilege of taking a flower, with great folemnity, from the
ftatue of the goddefs. This was efteemed fo high an honor, that it is fcarce imaginable how great
an emulation this infpired; as this privilege was to be obtained by the impartial determination
of the beft judges. Sum- 

Summer was however the feafon in which the pleafure of dancing was carried to the higheft pitch.
For the fcene of it, they chofe a fhady and delightful part of a wood, where the funfhine could
not incommode them, and where care was taken to clear the ground underfoot, for their performance.
A young lady of the moft eminence for rank and beauty was chofen to perfonate the goddefs Ceres.
Her drefs was of an exquifite tafte, ornamented with tufts of gold, in imitation of wheat-fheaves:
while her head was decked with a kind of crown compofed of fpangles, reprefenting the ears of
ripe corn, and perhaps, for the greater fimplicity, of the natural grain itfelf. Thofe who
danced round her, all wore wreaths of the choiceft flowers, and were dreffed in white, with
their hair flowing loofe, in the ftile of wood-nimphs. On this D2 occa- occafion, there was
always a great croud of fpectators; and the joy that appeared in each parent's eye, when their
daughters were applauded, made no fmall part of the entertainment. As garlands, and wreaths
of flowers compofed the principal ornament of the perfons who performed in this dance, fuch
a refpect was had for it by the people in general, that they abftained from gathering any flowers,
till after this feftival was over. 

I have myfelf feen a drawing of this rural dance, in which I counted no lefs than fixty performers.

The celebrated Pilades is mentioned to have been the great improver of this dance. He excluded
from it all jumping or capering, for fear of violating or of disfiguring the graceful regularity
of the the whole, which he confidered as the moft effential towards preferving a pleafing effect.

Not lefs than two months were the ufual time of preparation for this dance, to which there was
always a confluence of perfons from all the neighbouring parts. But none were allowed the liberty
of dancing, except perfons of the firft rank and diftinction in the country; the whole being
regulated by fome perfon acting in quality of choragus , or director of the dance. 

The reign of Auguftus Caefar was undoubtedly the epoch, of the eftablifhment in Rome, of the
art of dancing in its greateft fplendor. Cahufac, an ingenious French author, in his hiftorical
treatife of this art, affigns to that emperor a deep political defign in giving it fo fo great
an encouragement as he undoubtedly did; that of diverting the Romans from ferious thoughs
on the lofs of their liberty; efpecially in fomenting a diffention among them, about fo frivolous
an object as the competition between thofe two celebrated dancers, Pilades and Bathillus.
That fomething of this fort might be the defign of that emperor, is not to be doubted; but Cahufac,
over-heated, perhaps, by his fubject, exagerates the importance of it beyond the bounds of
cool reafon. So much however is true, that thofe two dancers were extremely eminent in their
art, and may be efteemed the founders of that theatrical dancing, or pantomime execution,
for which it is not fufficient to be only a good dancer, but there is alfo, required the being
a good actor; in both which lights, thefe two artifts were allowed to excel, Pilades in the ferious
ferious or tragic dance, Bathillus in the comic. 

Thefe alfo founded a kind of academies of dancing, which produced feveral eminent artifts,
but none that ever equalled themfelves in performance or reputation. What hiftory records
of them, and of their powers, as well is of that theatrical pantomime dance, of which they were
the introductors, in Rome, would exceed belief, if it was not attefted by fuch a number of authors
as leave no room to think it an impofition. 

But as to dancing itfelf, either confidered in a religious, or in only an amufive light, it may
be pronounced to have been among the Romans, as old as Rome itfelf, and like that rude in its beginnings,
but to have received gradual dual improvement, as faft as the other arts and fciences gained
ground. 

Proceffional dances were alfo much in vogue among that people. They had efpecially an anniverfary
ceremony or proceffion, called, from its pre-eminence, fingly, Pompa , or the Pomp. 

It was celebrated, in commemoration of a victory obtained over the Latians, the news of which
was faid to have been brought by Caftor and Pollux, in perfon. This feftival, was, at firft,
confecrated to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. But it was afterwards made more general, and celebrated
in honor of all the Gods. This proceffion was in the month of September. It began at the temple
of Jupiter Capitolinus , proceeded to the Forum Romanum , from thence to the Velabrum , and after-
afterwards to the Grand Circus . You have in Onuphrius Panvinius, the order of this proceffion
at large, of which the directors were the chief magiftrates of the city: the fons of the nobility
leading the van. Thofe of the Equeftrian order, whofe fathers were worth a hundred and fifty
thoufand fefterces, followed on horfeback. It would be here foreign from my purpofe to give
the whole defcription of this proceffion, and of thofe who compofed it. It is fufficient to
obferve, that proceffional dancing conftituted a confiderable part of it. The Pirrhic dance,
executed to a martial air, called the Proceleumaticus , employed the men of arms. Thefe were
followed by perfons who danced and leaped, in the manner of Satirs, fome of them in the drefs
afcribed to Silenus , attended by performers on inftruments adapted to E that that character
of dance. Thefe made the comic part of the proceffion, and the perfons reprefenting Satirs,
took care to divert the people by leaps, by a difplay of agility, and by odd uncouth attitudes,
fuch as were in the character they had affumed. There were alfo in another part of the proceffion
twelve Salu , or priefts of Mars, fo called from their making facred dances in honor of that God,
the moft confiderable part of their worfhip; thefe were headed by their mafter or Praeful ,
the leader of the dance; a term afterwards affumed by the Chriftian Prelates. There were alfo
the Salian virgins, befides another divifion of the Salu called Agonenfes or Collini . 

Nor is the proceffional dancing any thing furprizing; concerning that among the heathens,
and even among the Hebrews, Hebrews, they were greatly in ufe. Who does not know that David's
dancing before the arch was but in confequence of its being one of the religious ceremonies
on that occafion? 

The heathens ufed efpecially to form dances before their altars, and round the ftatues of their
gods. The Salu , or priefts of Mars, whofe dances were fo framed as to give an idea of military
exercife and activity, threw into their performance fteps fo expreffive and majeftic, as
not only to defend their motions and geftures from any idea of levity and burlefque, which it
is fo natural for the moderns to affociate with that of dancing, but even to infpire the beholders
with refpect and a religious awe. The priefts chofen for this function, were always perfons
of the nobleft aspect, fuitable to the dignity E2 of of the facerdotal miniftry. And fo little
needs that dignity of the heathen miniftry be thought to be wounded or violated by the act of
dancing, in religious worfhip, that dances were actually in ufe among the primitive Chriftians,
in their religious affemblies. There was a place in their churches, efpecially allotted for
thefe confecrated dances, upon folemn feftivals, which even gave the name of choir to thofe
parts of the church now only appropriated to the reading of the divine fervice, and to finging.
In Spain, it long remained an eftablifhed cuftom for Chriftians to affemble in the church-porches,
where, in honor of God, they fang facred himns, and to the tunes of them, performed dances, that
were extremely pleafing, for the decent and beautiful fimplicity of the execution. All which
I mention purely to falve that inconsistence, fiftence, of the levity of dancing with the gravity
of divine worfhip. An inconfiftence of which the antients had no idea; fince, on that occafion,
they almoft conftantly joined dancing to finging. 

They are both natural expreffions of joy and feftivity; and as fuch they thought neither of
them improper in an addrefs of gratulation to the deity, whom they fuppofed rather pleafed
at fuch innocent oblations of the heart, exulting in his manifold bounties and bleffings.

From before the altar, among the heathens, the admiffion of dances upon the theatre, was rather
an extenfion of their power to entertain, than a total change of their deftination; fince the
theatres themfelves were dedicated to the the worfhip of the heathen deities , of which their
making a part was one of the principal objections of the primitive Chriftians to the theatres
themfelves. However, it was from the theatres that dancing received its great and capital
improvement. 

As an exercife, the virtue of dancing was well known to the antients, for its keeping up the ftrength
and agility of the human body. There is a remark which I fubmit to the confideration of the reader,
that it is not impoffible but that the antient Romans, who were, generally fpeaking, low in
ftature, and yet were eminently ftrong, owed that advantage to their cultivation of bodily
exercife. This kept their limbs fupple, and rendered their conftitution ftout and hardy.
Now, very laborious exercifes would rather wear out the the machine than they would invigorate
it, if there was not a due relaxation, which fhould not, however, be too abrupt a tranfition
from the moft fatiguing exercifes to a ftate of abfolute reft. Whereas that dancing, of which
they were fo fond, afforded them, not only a pleafing employ of vacant hours, but, withall,
in its keeping up the pliability of their limbs, made them find more eafe in the application
of themfelves to more athletic, or to more violent exercifes, either of war or of the chace:
while all together bred that firmnefs of their mufcles, that robuft compactnefs and vigor
of body, which enabled them to atchieve that military valor, to which they owed all their conquefts
and their glory. 

Certain it is then, that among the Romans, even in the moft martial days of that that republic,
the art of dancing was taught, as one of the points of accomplifhment neceffary to the education
of youth; and was even practifed among the exercifes of the Circus. I need not obferve, that
there were alfo various abufes of dancing, which they very juftly accounted difhonorable
to thofe who practised them, whether in public or private. Thefe, in the degenerate days of
Rome, grew to an enormous excefs. But I prefume no one will judge of an art by the abufe that may
be made of it. OF OF DANCING In General . 

This is one of the arts, in which as in all the reft, the ftudy of nature is efpecially to be recommended.
She is an unerring guide. She gives that harmony, that power of pleafing to the productions
of thofe who confult her, which fuch as neglect her muft never expect. They will furnifh nothing
but monfters and difcordances; or, at the beft, but fometimes lucky hits, without meaning
or connexion. F All 

All the imitative arts acknowledge this principle. 

In Poetry, a happy choice of the moft proper words for expreffing the fentiments and images
drawn from the obfervation of nature, conftitutes the principal object of the poet. 

In Painting, the difpofition of the fubject, the refemblance of the coloring to that of the
original, in fhort the greateft poffible adherence to nature, is the merit of that art. 

In Mufic, that expreffion of the paffions which fhould raife the fame in the hearer, whether
of joy, affliction, tendernefs, or pity, can never have its effect without marking and adopting
the refpective founds of each paffion as they are furnifhed by nature. In 

In Dancing, the attitudes, geftures, and motions derive alfo their principle from nature,
whether they caracterife joy, rage, or affection, in the bodily expreffion refpectively
appropriated to the different affections of the foul. A confideration this, which clearly
proves the miftake of thofe, who imagine the art of dancing folely confined to the legs, or even
arms; whereas the expreffion of it fhould be pantomimically diffufed through the whole body,
the face efpecially included. 

Monfieur Cahufac, in his ingenious treatife on this art, has very juftly obferved, that both
finging and dancing muft have exifted from the primeval times; that is to fay, from the firft
of the exiftence of human-kind itfelf. F2 Obferve, 

"Obferve, fays he, the tender children, " from their entry into the world, " to the moment in
which their reafon " unfolds itfelf, and you will fee that " it is primitive nature herfelf,
that " manifefts herfelf in the found of " their voice, in the features of their " face, in their
looks, in all their motions. " Mark their fudden palenefs, " their quick contortions, their
piercing " cries, when their foul is affected " by a fenfation of pain. Obferve " again, their
engaging fmile, their " fparkling eyes, their rapid motions, " when it is moved by a fentiment
of " pleafure. You will then be clearly " perfuaded of the principles of mufic " and dancing proceeding
from the " beginning of the world down to " us." Certain 

Certain it is, that even in children, the motions and gefture, ftrongly paint nature; and their
infantine graces are not unworthy the remarks of an artift, who will be fure to find exellence
in no way more obtainable than by a rational ftudy of her, where fhe is the pureft. 

The cultivation of the natural graces, and a particular care to fhun all affectation, all caricature,
unlefs in comic or grotefque dances, cannot be too much recommended to thofe who wifh to make
any figure in this art. It is doing a great injuftice to it, to place its excellence in capers,
in brilliant motions of the legs, or in the execution of difficult fteps, without meaning or
fignificance, which require little more than ftrength and agility. I 

I have already obferved, that the Greeks, who were fo famous for this art, as indeed for moft
others, which is no wonder, fince all the arts have fo acknowledged an affinity with each other,
ftudied efpecially grace and dignity in the execution of their dances. That levity of capering,
that nimblenefs of the legs, which we fo much admire, held no rank in their opinion. They were
inconfiftent with that clearnefs of expreffion, and neatnefs of motion, of which they principally
made a point. The great beauty of movements, or fteps, is, for every one of them to be diftinct;
not huddled and running into one another, fo as that one fhould begin before the precedent one
is finifhed. This fo neceffary avoidance of puzzled or ambiguous motion, can only be compaffed
by an attention to fignificance and juftnefs of action. action. This fimplicity will arife
from fenfibility, from being actuated, by feelings. No one has more than one predominant actual
feeling at a time; when that is expreffed clearly, the effect is as fure as it is inftantaneous.
The movement it gives, neither interferes, with the immediately precedent, nor the immediately
following one, though it is prepared or introduced by the one, and prepares or introduces the
other. 

This the Greeks could the better effectuate, from their preference of the fublime, or ferious
ftile; which, having fo much lefs of quicknefs or rapidity of execution, than the comic dance,
admits of more attention to the neat expreffivenefs of every motion, gefture, attitude, or
ftep. As 

As to the great nicety of the Greeks, in the ordering and difpofing their dances, I refer to what
I have before faid, for its being to be obferved, how much at prefent this art is fallen fhort
of their perfection in it, and how difficult it muft be for a composer of dances to produce them
in that mafterly manner they were ufed to be performed among the antients. Let his talent for
invention or compofition be never fo rich or fertile, it will be impoffible for him to do juftice
in the difplay, unlefs he is feconded by performers well verfed in the art, and efpecially expert
in giving the expreffion of their part in the dance; not to mention the collateral aids of mufic,
machinery, and decoration, which it is fo requifite to adapt to the fubject. But 

But where all thefe points so neceffary are duly fupplied, and dancing is executed in all its
brilliancy, it would be no longer looked upon, efpecially at the Opera, as merely an expletive
between the acts, juft to afford the fingers a little breathing time. The dances might recover
their former luftre, and give the public the fame pleafure as to the Greeks and Romans, who made
of them one of their moft favorite entertainments, and carried them up to the higheft pitch
of tafte and excellence. 

The Romans feem to have followed the Greeks, in this paffion for dancing; and the theatrical
dances, upon the pantomime plan, were in Rome pufhed to fuch a degree of perfection as is even
hard to conceive. Whole tragedies plaid, act by act, fcene by fcene, in pantomime expreffion,
give an idea of this G art, art, very different from that which is at prefent commonly received.

Every ftep in dancing has its name and value. But not one fhould be employed in a vague unmeaning
manner. All the movements fhould be conformable to the expreffion required, and in harmony
with one another. The fteps regular, and properly varied, with a graceful fupplenefs in the
limbs, a certain ftrength, addrefs, and agility; juft pofitions exhibited with eafe, delicacy,
and above all, with propriety, caracterife the mafterly dancer, and in their union, give to
his execution its due beauty. The leaft negligence in any of thefe points, is immediately felt,
and detracts from the merit of the performance. Every ftep or motion that is not natural, or
has any thing of ftiffnefs, conftraint, or affectation, is inftinctively perceived ceived
by the fpectator. The body muft conftantly preferve its proper pofition, without the leaft
contortion, well adjufted to the fteps; while the motion of the arms, muft be agreeable to that
of the legs, and the head to be in concert with the whole. 

But in this obfervation I pretend to no more than juft furnifhing a general idea of the requifites
towards the execution: the particulars, it is impoffible, to give in verbal defcription,
or even by choregraphy or dances in fcore. 

Many who pretend to underftand the art of dancing, confound motions of ftrength, with thofe
of agility, miftaking ftrength for flight, or flight for ftrength; tho' fo different in their
nature. It is the fpring of the body, in harmony with fenfe, that gives the great power G2 to to
pleafe and furprize. The fame it is with the management of the arms; but all this requires both
the theory of the art, and the practice of it. One will hardly fuffice without the other; which
makes excellence in it so rare. 

The motion of the arms is as effential, at leaft, as that of the legs, for an expreffive attitude:
and both receive their juftnefs from the nature of the paffions they are meant to exprefs. The
paffions are the fprings which muft actuate the machine, while a clofe observation of nature
furnifhes the art of giving to thofe motions the grace of eafe and expertnefs. Any thing that,
on the ftage efpecially, has the air of being forced, or improper, cannot fail of having a bad
effect. A frivolous, affected turn of the wrift, is surely no grace. One 

One of the moft nice and difficult points of the art of dancing is, certainly, the management
and difplay of the arms; the adapting their motion to the character of the dance. In this many
are too arbitrary in forming rules to themfelves, without confulting nature, which would
not fail of fuggefting to them the jufteft movements. For want of this appropriation of gefture
and attitude, the movements fit for one character are indiftinctly employed in the reprefentation
of another. And into this error thofe will be fure to fall, who deviate from the unerring principles,
of nature; which has for every character an appropriate ftrain of motion and gefture. 

Nothing then has a worfe effect, than any impropriety in the management of the arms: it gives
to the eye, the the fame pain that discordance in mufic does to the ear. 

There are fome who move their arms with a tolerably natural grace, without knowing the true
rules rifing out of nature into art: but where the advantage of theory gives yet a greater fecurity,
confequently a greater eafe and a nobler freedom to the motions of the performer; the performance
cannot but meet, with fuller approbation. And yet it may be as bad to fhow too much art, as to have
too little. The point is to employ no more of art than juft what ferves to grace nature, but never
to hide or obfcure her. 

Great, is the difference between the antient and the modern dances. The antient ones were full
of fublime fimplicity. But that fimplicity was far from from excluding the delicate, the graceful,
and even the brilliant. The moderns are so accuftomed to thofe dances from which nature is banifhed,
and falfe refinements fubftituted in her room, that it is to be queftioned whether they would
relifh the returning in practice to the purer principles of the art. Myfelf knowing, better,
and fenfible that the principles of nature are the only true ones, have been sometimes forced
to yield to the torrent of fafhion, and to adopt in practice thofe florifhings of art, which
in theory I defpifed; and juftly, for furely the plaineft imitation of nature muft be the grounds
from which alone the performance can be carried up to any degree of excellence. It is with our
art, as in architecture, if the foundation is not right, the fuperftructure will be wrong.
This 

This primitive fource then muft be ftudied, known, and well attended to; or we only follow the
art blindly, and without certainty. Thence the common indifference of fo many performers,
who mind nothing more than a rote of the art, without tracing it to its origin, nature. 

To fucceed, we muft abandon the falfe tafte and embrace the true; which is not only the best guide
to perfection; but when rendered familiar, by much the moft easy and the moft delightful. It
has all the advantages that truth has over falfhood. 

The greater the fimplicity of fteps in a dance, the more, beautiful it is; and requires the more
attention in the performer to exactnefs and delicacy; for flownefs and neatness being in the
character character of fimplicity, afford the fpectator both leifure and diftinctnefs for
his examination: whereas dances of intricate evolutions, or quick motions, in their confufion
and hurry, allow no clearnefs, or time for particular obfervation. 

If the merit of a theatrical dancer were to confift, as many imagine, in nothing but in the motions
of the legs, in cutting, lively or brilliant capers, in furprizing fteps, in the agility of
the body, in vigorous fprings, in vaulting, in a tolerable management of the arms, and efpecially
in being well acquainted with thofe parts of the ftage where the perfpective gives him the greateft
advantage; the art of dancing might be, as it is generally looked upon to be, an art eafily acquired.
Whereas, for the attaining to a juft perfection in it, there H are are many other points required,
but none fo much as the clofe imitation of beautiful nature; and that efpecially in its greateft
fimplicity. 

Nor fhould it be imagined that the fimplicity I recommend, tends to fave the compofer of dances
any trouble of invention: on the contrary, that fort of fimplicity of; execution intended
to produce, by means of its adherence to nature, the greateft effect, will coft him more pains,
more exertion of genius, than thofe dances of which the falfe brilliants of extravagant decoration,
and of mere agility without meaning or expreffion, conftitute the merit. It is with the compofition
of dances, as with that of mufic, the plaineft and the moft ftriking, are ever the moft difficult
to the compofer. The 

The comic, or grottefque dancers, indeed are in poffeffion of branch of this art, in which they
are difpenfed from exhibiting the ferious or pathe tic; however, they may be otherwife as well
acquainted with the fundamental principles of the art, as the beft mafters. But as their fuccefs
depends chiefly on awakening the rifible faculty, they commonly chufe to throw their whole
powers of execution into thofe motions, geftures, grimaces; and contortions, which are fitteft
to give pleafure by the raifing a laugh. And certainly this has its merit; but in no other proportion
to the truth of the art, which confifts in moving the nobler paffions, than as farce is to tragedy
or to genteel comedy. They are in this art of dancing, what Hemfkirk and Teniers are in that of
painting. H2 The 

The painter, can only in his draught prefent one fingle unvaried attitude in each perfonage
that he paints: but it is the duty of the dancer, to give, in his own perfon, a fucceffion of attitudes,
all like thofe of the painter, taken from nature. 

Thus a painter who fhould paint Oreftes agitated by the furies, can only give him one fingle
expreffion of his countenance and pofture: but a dancer, charged with the reprefentation
of that character, can, feconded by a well-adapted mufic, execute a fucceffion of motions
and attitudes, that will mote ftrongly and furely with more livelinefs, convey the idea of
that character, with all its tranfports of fury and diforder. It 

It was in this light, that the antients required the, union of the actor and of the dancer in the
fame perfon. They expected, on the theatre efpecially, dances of character, that fhould exprefs
to the eye the fenfations of the soul: without which, they confidered it as nothing but an art
that had left nature behind it; a mere corpfe without the animating fpirit; or at the beft, carrying
with it a character of falfity or tafteleffnefs. A thorough mafter of dancing, fhould, in every
motion of every limb convey fome meaning; or rather be all expreffion or pantomime, to his very
fingers ends. 

How many requifites muft concur to form an accomplifhed poffeffion of this talent! It is not
enough that the head fhould play on the fhoulders with all the grace of a fine connection; nor
that that his countenance fhould be enlivened with fignificance and expreffion; that his
eyes fhould give forth the juft language of the paffions belonging to the character he reprefents;
that his fhoulders have the eafy fall they ought to have; let even the motions of his arms be true;
let his elbows and wrifts have that delicate turn of which the grace is fo fenfible; let the movement
of the whole perfon be free, genteel, and eafy; let the attitudes of the bending turn be agreeable;
his cheft be neither too full nor too narrow; his fides clean made, ftrong, and well turned;
his knees well articulated, and fupple; his legs neither too large, nor too fmall, but finely
formed; his inftep furnifhed with the ftrength neceffary to execute and maintain the fprings
he makes; his feet in juft proportion to the fupport of the whole frame; all thefe thefe, accompanied
with a regularity motion; and yet all thefe, however effential, conftitute but a fmall part
of the talent. Towards the perfection of it, there is yet more, much more required, in that fenfibility
of foul, which has in it fo much more of the gift of nature, than of the acquifition of art and is
perhaps in this, What it is in moft other arts and fciences, if not genius itfelf, an indifpenfable
foundation of genius. There is no executing well with the body, what is not duly felt by the foul:
fentiment gives life to the execution, and propriety to the looks,' motions and geftures.

Thofe who would make any confiderable progrefs in this art, fhould, above all things, ftudy
justness of action. They cannot therefore too clofely attend to the reprefentation of nature,
either either upon the ftage, or in life. I cannot too often repeat it; thofe who keep moft the
great original, Nature, in view, will ever be the greateft mafters of this art. 

As to the different characters of dances, there are, properly fpeaking, four divifions of
the characters of dances: the ferious, the half ferious, the-comic, and the grottefque; but
for executing any of them with grace, the artift fhould be well grounded in the principles of
the ferious dance, which will give him what may be called a delicacy of manner in all the reft.

But as one of thefe divifions may be more adapted to the humor, genius, or powers of an artift,
than another, he fhould, if he aims at excellence; examine carefully for which it is that he
is the moft fit. After 

After determining which, whatever imperfections he may have from nature, he muft fet about
correcting, as well as he can, by art. Nothing will hardly be found impoffible for him to fubdue,
by an unfhaken refolution, and an intenfe application. 

Happy indeed is that artift, in whom both the requifites of nature and art are united: but where
the firft is not grofsly deficient, it may be supplemented by the fecond. However well a beginner
may be qualified for this profeffion by nature, if he does not cultivate the talent duly, he
furpaffed by another, inferior natural endowments, but who fhall have taken pains to acquire
what was wanting to him, or to improve where I deficient. deficient. The experience of all ages
attefts this. 

The helps of a lively imagination, joined to great and affiduous practice, carry the art to
the higheft perfection. But practice will give no eminent diftinction without ftudy. Whoever
fhall flatter himfelf with forming himfelf by practice, alone, without the true principles
and fufficient grounds of the art, can only proceed upon a rote of tradition, which may appear
infallible to him. But this adoption of unexamined rules, and this plodding on in a beaten track,
will never lead to any thing great or eminent. It carries with it always fomething of the ftiffness
of a copy, without any thing of the graceful boldnefs of originality, or of the ftrokes of genius.
Vanity 

Vanity fhould never miflead a man in the judgment he forms of his own talents: much lefs fhould
an artift refort to the meannefs of depending in the sufport of cabals: it muft be the general
approbation that muft feal his patent of merit. 

I have before obferved that the grave or ferious ftile of dancing, is the great ground-work
of the art. It is alfo the moft difficult. Firmnefs of ftep, a graceful and regular motion of
all the parts, fupplenefs, eafy bendings and rifings, the Whole accompanied with a good air,
and managed with the greateft eafe of expertnefs and dexterity, conftitute the merit of this
kind of dancing. The foul itself fhould be feen in every motion of the body, and exprefs fomething
naturally noble, and even I2 heroic. heroic. Every ftep fhould have its beauty. 

The painter draws, or ought to draw copy, the actor his action, and ftatuary his model, all from
the truth nature. They are all refpectively profeffors of imitative arts; and the dancer may
well prefume to take rank among them, fince the imitation of nature is not lefs his duty than
theirs; with this difference, that they have fome advantages of which the dancer is deftitute.
The Painter has time to fettle and correct his attitudes, but the dancer muft be exactly bound
to the time of the mufic. The actor has the affistance of fpeech and the ftatuary has all the time
requifite to model his work. The dancer's effect is not only that of a moment, but he muft every
moment reprefent a fucceffion of motions and attitudes, attitudes, adapted to his character,
whether his fubject be heroic or paftoral, or in whatever kind of dancing he exhibits himfelf.
He is by the expreffivenefs of his dumb fhow to fupplement the want of fpeech, and that with clearnefs;
that whatever he aims at reprefenting may be inftantaneoufly apprehended by the fpectator,
who muft not be perplexed with hammering out to himfelf the meaning of one ftep, while the dancer
fhall have already begun another. 

In the half-ferious ftile we obferve vigor, lightnefs, agility, brilliant fprings, with
a fteadinefs and command of the body. It is the beft kind of dancing for expreffing the more general
theatrical fubjects. It alfo pleafes more generally. The 

The grand pathetic of the ferious ftile, of dancing is not what every one enters into. But all
are pleafed with a brilliant execution, in the quick motion of the legs, and the high fprings
of the body. A paftoral dance, reprefented in all the pantomime art, will be commonly preferred
to the more ferious ftile, though this laft requires doubtlefs the greateft excellence: but
it is an excellence of which few but the connoiffeurs are judges; who are rarely numerous enough
to encourage the compofer of dances to form them entirely in that ftile. All that he can do is
to take a great part of his attitudes from the ferious ftile, but to give them another turn and
air in the compofition; that he may avoid confounding the two different ftiles of ferious and
half-ferious. For this laft, it it is impoffible to have too much agility and brifknefs. 

The comic dancer is not tied up to the fame rules or obfervations as are neceffary to the ferious
and half-ferious ftiles. He is not fo much obliged to ftudy what may be called nature high life.
The rural fports, and exercifes; the geftures of various mechanics or artificers will fupply
him with ideas for the execution of characters in this branch. The more his motions, fteps,
and attitudes are taken from nature, the more they will be fure to pleafe. 

The comic dance has for object the exciting mirth; whereas, on the contrary, the ferious ftile
aims more at soothing and captivating by the harmony and juftnefs of its movement; by by the
grace and dignity of its fteps; by the pathos of the execution. 

The comic ftile, however its aim may be laughter, requires tafte, delicacy, and invention;
and that the mirth it creates fhould not even be without wit. This depends not only upon the execution,
but on the choice of the fubject. It is not enough to value onefelf upon a clofe imitation of nature,
if the fubject chofen for imitation is not worth imitating, or improper to reprefent; that
is to fay, either trivial, indifferent, confequently uninterefting; or difguftful and unpleafing.
The one tires, the other fhocks. Even in the loweft claffes of life, the compofer muft feize
only what is the fitteft to give fatisfaction; and omit whatever can excite difagreeable ideas.
It is from the animal joy of mechanics chanics or peafants in their ceffations from labor, or
from their celebration on of feftivals, that the artift will felect his matter of compofition;
not from any circumftances of unjoyous poverty or loathsome diftreff. He muft cull the flowers
of life, not prefent the roots with the foil and dirt fticking to them. 

Even contrafting characters, which are fo feldom attempted on the ftage, in theatrical dances,
might not have a bad effect; whereas moft of the figures in them are fimmetrically coupled.
Of the firft I once faw in Germany a ftriking inftance; an inftance that ferved to confirm that
affinity between the arts which renders them fo ferviceable to one another. K Passing 

Paffing through the Electorate of Cologne, I obferved a number of perfons of all ages, affembled
on a convenient fpot, and difpofed, in couples, in order for dancing; but fo odly paired that
the moft ugly old man, had for his partner the moft beautiful and youngeft girl in the company,
while, on the contrary, the moft decrepid, deformed old woman, was led by the moft handfome
and vigorous youth. Inquiring the reafon of fo ftrange a groupe of figures, I was told that it
was the humor of an eminent painter, who was preparing a picture for the gallery at Duffeldorp,
the fubject of which was to be this contraft; and that in order to take his draught from nature,
he had given a treat to this ruftic company, in the defign of exhibiting at one view, the floridnefs
of youth contrafted to the weaknefs and infirmities of old age, in a moral moral light, of expofing
the impropriety of thofe matches, in which the objection of a difparity of years fhould not
be duly refpected. 

I have mentioned this purely to point out a new refource of invention, that may throw a pleafing
variety into the compofition of dances; and fave them from too conftant a fimmetry, or uniformity,
either of drefs or figure, in the pairing the dancers: by which I am as far from meaning that that
fimmetry fhould be always neglected, as that it fhould be always obferved. 

The comic dance, having then the diverfion of the fpectator, in the way of laughing, for its
object, fhould preferve a moderately buffoon fimplicity, and the dancer, aided by a natural
genius, but efpecially by throwing as K2 much much nature as poffible into his execution, may
promife himfelf to amufe and pleafe the fpectator; even though he fhould not be very deep in
the grounds of his art; provided he has a good ear, and fome pretty or brilliant fteps to vary
the dance. The fpectators require no more. 

As to the grotefque stile of dance, the effect of it chiefly depends on the leaps and height of
the fprings. There is more of bodily ftrength required in it than even of agility and flight.
It is more calculated to furprize the eye, then to entertain it. It has fomething of the tumbler's,
or wire-dancer's merit of difficulty and danger, rather than of art. But the worft of it is,
that this vigor and agility laft no longer than the feafon of youth, or rather decreafe in proportion
as age advances, and, by this means means, leave thofe who have trufted folely to that vigor
and agility deprived of their effential merit. Whereas fuch as fhall have joined to that vigor
and agility, a proper ftudy of the principles of their art; that talent will ftill remain as
a refource for them. Commonly thofe dancers who have from nature eminently thofe gifts Which
enable them to fhine in the grottefque branch, do not chufe to give themfelves the trouble of
going to the bottom of their art, and acquiring its perfection. Content with their bodily powers,
and with the applaufe their performances actually do receive from the public, they look no
further, and remain in ignorance of the reft of their duty. Againft this diffipation then,
which keeps them always fuperficial, they they Cannot be too much, for their own advantage,
admonifhed. 

They will not otherwife get at the truth of their art, like him who qualifies himfelf for making
a figure in the ferious, and half-ferious ftiles, which alfo contribute to diffufe a grace
over every other kind of dancing, however different from them. 

But though the grotefque may be a caricature of nature, it is never to lofe fight of it. It muft
ever bear a due relation to the objects of which it attempts to exhibit the imitation, however
exagerated. But in this it is for genius to direct the artift. And it is very certain that this
kind of dancing, well executed, affords to the public, great entertainment in the way, if what
what may be called broad mirth; efpecially where the figure of the grotefque dancer, his geftures,
drefs, and the decorations, all contribute to the creation of the laugh. He muft alfo avoid
any thing ftudied or affected in his action. Every thing muft appear as natural as poffible,
even amidft the grimaces, contortions, and extravagancies of the character. OF OF SUNDRY
REQUISITES, FOR PERFECTION OF THE A R T O F DANCING . 

I HAVE already obferved how neceffary it is that all the fteps, in the theatrical dances, which
have imitation for their object, fhould be intelligible at the firft glance of the eye. L This
This cannot be too much inculcated. The paffions and manners of mankind, have all a different
expreffion, which cannot be prefented too plain, and too obvious. The adjuftment of the motions
to the character muft be obferved through every ftile of dancing, the ferious, the half-ferious,
the comic, and the grotefque. The various beauties of thefe different kinds of dances, all
center in the propriety or truth of nature. Looks, movements, attitudes, geftures, fhould
in the dancer, all have an appropriate meaning; fo plainly expreffed as to be inftantaneoufly
underftood by the fpectator, without giving him the trouble of unriddling them: otherwife,
it is like talking to them in a foreign language for which an interpretor is needed. But 

But to give a fentiment, a man muft have it firft: where a pathetic fentiment is well poffeffed
of the mind, the expreffion of it is diffused over the whole body. 

The theatre fhows to advantage a well proportioned dancer. A tall perfon appears the more majeftic
on it; but thofe of a middling ftature are more generally fit for every character; and may make
up in gracefulnefs what they want in fize. The remarkably tall commonly want the graces to be
feen in thofe of the more general ftandard. 

A young dancer who difplays a dawn of genius, cannot be too much exhorted to deliver himfelf
up to the power of nature; fo that acquiring a particular manner of his own, he may himfelf proceed
on original. If he would hope L2 to to arrive at any eminence in the art, he must break the fhackles
of a fervile imitation, and preferve nothing but the principles and grounds of his art, which
will be fo far from fettering him, that they will affift his foaring upon the wings of his own
genius. 

Where a dancer undertakes to reprefent a fubject on the theatre, he muft ground his plan of performance
on the felecting all the moft proper fituations for furnifhing the moft ftrikingly pictures,
profpects, and confequently, producing the greateft effect. 

This was doubtlefs the great fecret of Pilades, the founder, at leaft in Rome, of the pantomime
art. It was on this choice of fituations, that the under- underftanding whole pieces; both
tragic and comic, executed in dances, entirely depends. 

And here, upon mentioning the pantomime art, be it allowed me to defend it againft the objections
made to it, by those who confider it only under a partial or vulgar point of view. 

If any one fhould pretend that the pantomime art is fuperior to the actor's power of reprefentation
in tragedy or comedy, or that fuch an entertainment of dumb fhow ought to exclude that of fpeaking
characters; nothing could be more ridiculous or abfurd than fuch a proposition. 

That indeed would be rejecting one of the moft noble improvements of nature, in favor of an art
rather calculated culated for the relaxation of the mind than for the inftruction of it; in
which it can only claim a fubordinate share. 

Thofe fubjects, whether ferious or comic, which are executed by dances, or in the pantomime
ftrain, are chiefly intended for the throwing a variety into theatrical entertainments,
without difputing any honors of rank. 

The very fame perfon who fhall have at one time, taken pleafure in feeing and hearing the noble
and pathetic fentiments of tragedy, or the ridicule of human follies in a good comedy, finely
reprefented, may, without any fort of inconfiftence, not be difpleafed at feeing, at another
time, a fubject executed in dances, while the mufic, the decorations, all contribute to the
happy diverfification of his entertainment. ment. Ought he therefore either to call his own
tafte to an account for his being pleafed, or to grudge to others a pleafure, which nature itfelf
juftifies, in his having given to mankind a love of variety? 

Nor is there perhaps, in the world, an art more the genuine offspring of Nature, more under her
immediate command, than the art of dancing. For to fay nothing of that dancing, which has no
relation to the theatre, and which is her principal demonftrations of joy and feftivity, the
theatrical branch acknowledges her for its great and capital guide. All the motions, all the
geftures, all the attitudes, all the looks, can have no merit, but in their faithful imitation
of Nature: while man himfelf, man, the nobleft of her productions, is ever the fubject which
the dancer dancer paints through all his paffions and manners. 

The painter prefents man in one fixed attitude, with no more of life than the draught and colors
can give to his figure: the dancer exhibits him in a fucceffion of attitudes, and, inftead of
painting with the brufh, paints, furely more to the life, with his own perfon. A dance in action,
is not only a moving picture, but an animated one: while to the eloquence of the tongue, it fubftitute
that of the whole body. 

The art, viewed in this light, fhows how Comparatively little the merelymechanical part of
it, the agility of the legs and body, contributes to the accomplifhment of the dancer; however
neceffary that alfo is. We might foon form a dancer, if the art confifted only in his being taught
to to fhake his legs in cadence, to balance his body, or to move his arms unmeaningly. But if he
has not a genius, fufceptible of cultivation, and which is itfelf far the moft effential gift,
he will make no progrefs towards the defirable diftinction: he is a body without a foul: his
performance will have more of the poppet moved by wires, than of the actor giving that life to
the character, which himfelf receives from the fenfibility of genius. 

There are many young beginners, who, looking off this art as a good way of livelihood, enter
on the rudiments of it, with great ardor. But this ardor foon abates, in proportion, as they
advance, and find there is more ftudy and pains required from them than they expected to find,
towards their arrival at any tolerable degree of M perfection. perfection. Having confidered
this art as purely a mechanical one, they are furprifed at the difcovery of its exacting thought
and reflection, for which their ideas of it had not prepared them. A man who has not fufficient
fhare of genius to attempt the vanquifhing thefe difficulties, of which, in his falfe conception
of things, he has formed to himfelf no notion; either treats thefe great effentials of the art,
as innovations, and fuch as he is not bound to admit, or in the defpair of acquiring them, fits
down contented with his mediocrity. It is well if he does not rail at, or attempt to turn into
ridicule, perfections which are beyond his reach. And to fay the truth, the art has not greater
enemies than thofe profeffors of it, who ftick at the furface, and want the fpirit neceffary
to go to the bottom of it. In vain does the public refufe its applaufe to to their indifferent,
ordinary, uninterefting performance: rather than allow the fault to be in themfelves, their
vanity will lay it on the public: they never refufe themfelves that approbation which others
can fee no reafon for beftowing on them. They are perfectly fatisfied with having executed
in their little manner, the little they know or are capable of; they have no idea of any thing
beyond their fhort reach. 

Certainly the beft feafon of life, for the ftudy of this art, is, as for that of moft others, for
obvious reafons, the time of one's youth. It is the beft time of laying the foundation both of
theory and practice. 

But the theory fhould efpecially be attended to, without however neglecting the practice.
For though a dancer by an affiduous practice, may, at L. of C. M2 the the firft unexamining glance,
appear as well in the eyes of the public, as he who poffeffes the rules; the illufion will not
be lafting; it will foon be diffipated, efpecially where there is prefent an object of comparifon.
He whofe motions are dirrected only by rote and cuftom, will foon be difcovered effentially
inferior to him whofe practice is governed by a knowledge of the principles of his art. 

A mafter does not do his duty by his pupil, in this art, if he fails of ftrongly inculcating to
him the neceffity of ftudying thofe principles; and of kindling in him that ardor for attaining
to excellence, which if it is not itfelf genius, it is certain that no genius will do much without
it. Invention 

Invention is alfo as much a requifite in our art as in any other. But to fave the pains of ftudy,
we often borrow and copy from another. Indolence is the bane of our art. The trouble of thinking
neceffary to the invention and compofition of dances, appears to many too great a fatigue:
this engages them to appropriate to themfelves the fruits of other peoples invention; and
they appear to themfelves well provided at a fmall expence, when they have made free with the
productions of others. Some again, inftead of cultivating their talent, chufe indolently
to follow the great torrent of the fafhion, and ftick to the old tracks, without daring to ftrike
out any thing new, fo that their prejudices are, in fact, the principles by which they are governed,
and which fometimes ferves them for their excufe; fince they know better, better, but do not
care to give themfelves the trouble of acting up to their knowledge. Thus they plod on in the
fafe, and broad road of mediocrity, but without any reputation or name. They are neither envied
nor applauded. 

As for thofe who borrow from others, content with being copies, when they ought to ftrive to
be originals; nothing can more obftruct their progrefs in difcoveries of the depths of their
art, than this fcheme of fubfifting on the merit of others. 

Many, befides those who are incapable of invention, are tempted at once by their indolence,
and by the hope of not being difcovered or minded in their borrowing from others, to give ftale
or hackneyed compofitions, which having feen in one country, they flatter flatter themfelves
they may palm for new and original upon the public in another. Thence it is that the audience
is cloyed with repetitions of pantomime dances; perhaps fome of them very pretty at their first
appearance, but which cannot fail of tiring when too often repeated; or when the same grounds
or subject of action is only fuperficially or flightly diverfified. 

It is this barrennefs of invention: that the ingenious Goldoni has fo well expofed in one of
his plays, in the following fpeech, addreffed to a young man. 

" * For example, you, as the female dancer; " dancer will come upon the stage, " with a diftaff,
twirling it, or with a " a pail to draw water; or with a fpade " fpade for digging. Your companion
" will come next perhaps driving a " wheel-barrow, or with a fickle to mow " corn, or with a pipe
a-fmoaking; and " though the fcene fhould be a faloon, " no matter, it will come foon to be N " filled
" filled with ruftics or failors. Your " companion to be fure will not have " feen you, at firft;
that is the rule; " upon which you will make up to him, " and he will fend you a packing, You " will
tap him on the fhoulder with one " hand, and he will give a fpring from you " to the other fide of
the ftage. You will " run after him; he, on his part will " fcamper away from you, and you " will
take pet at it. When he fees " you angry, he will take it into his " head to make peace; he will fue
" to you, and you in your turn will " fend him about his bufinefs. You " will run from him, and he
after " you. He will be down on his knees " to you; peace will be made; then, " fhaking your footfies,
you will invite " him to dance. He alfo will anfwer " you with his feet, as much as to fay, " come,
let us dance." "There 

"Then handing you backwards to " the top of the ftage, you will begin " gaily a Pas-de-deux , or
Duet dance. " The firft part will be lively, the fecond " grave, the third a jig. You will " have
taken care to procure fix or feven " of the beft airs for a dance, put together, " that can be imagined.
You " will execute all the fteps that you are " miftrefs of; and let your character in " the Pas-de-deux,
be that of a country " wench, a gardener's fervant, a granadier's " trull, or a ftatue; the fteps
" will be always the fame; and the " fame actions for ever repeated; fuch " as running after one
another, dodging, " crying, falling in a paffion, " making peace again, bringing the " arms
over the head, jumping in and " out of time, fhaking legs and arms, " the head, the body, the fhoulders,
" and efpecially fmirking and ogling N2 " round " round you; not forgetting gentle inflexions
" of the neck, as you pafs clofe " under the lights, nor to make pretty " faces to the audience,
and then, hey " for a fine curtesy at the end of the "dance!" 

Nothing however would more obftruct the progrefs of this art, than thus contenting one felf
with adopting the productions of others. It even would, in the difguft which repetition occafions,
bring on the decline of this entertainment, in the opinion of a public which is always fond of
novelty. 

And of novelty, the beauties of nature furnifh an inexhauftible fund, in their infinite variety.
Among thefe it is the bufinefs of the artift to chufe fuch as can be brought upon the the fcene,
and theatrically adapted to the execution of his art. But for this he muft be poffeffed of tafte,
which is a qualification as neceffary to him, as a compofer, as that of the graces are to him as
a performer. Both are gifts. But if a due exercife of the art can add to the natural graces, tafte
does not ftand lefs in need of cultivation: it refines itfelf by a judicious obfervation of
the beauties and delicacies of nature. Thefe he muft inceffantly ftudy, in order to tranfplant
into his art fuch as are capable of producing the most pleating effect. He muft particularly
confult the fitnefs of time, place and manners; otherwife what would pleafe in one dance might
displeafe in another. Propriety is the great rule of this art, as of all others. A difcordance
in mufic hurts a nice ear; a falfe attitude or motion in dancing equally offends the judicious
eye. The 

The looks of the dancer are far from infignificant to the character he is reprefenting. Their
expreffion fhould be ftrictly conformable to his fubject. The eye efpecially fhould fpeak.
Thence it is that the Italian cuftom of dancing with uncovered faces, cannot but be more advantageous
than that of dancing mafked, as is commonly done in France; when the paffion can never be fo well
represented as by the changes of expreffion, which the dancer fhould throw into his countenance.

And it is by thefe changes of countenance, as well as of attitude and gefture, that the dancer
can exprefs the gradations of the paffion; whereas the painter is confined intirely to one
passion, that of the particular moment, in which he will have chofen to to draw a character,
For example, a painter, who means to reprefent a country-maid, under the influence of the paffion
of love, can only aim at expreffing fome particular degree of that paffion, fuitable to the
circumftances of the reft of his picture, or to the fituation in which he fhall have placed her.
But a dancer may fucceffively reprefent all the gradations of love; fuch as furprize at firft
fight, admiration, timidity, perplexity, agitation, languor, defire, ardor, eagernefs,
impatience, tumultous tranfports, with all the external fimptoms of that paffion: All thefe
may be executed in the moft lively manner, in time and cadence, to a correfpondent mufic or fimphany.
And fo of all the other paffions, whether of fear, revenge, joy, hatred, which have all their
fubdivifions expreffible, by the quick fhift and fucceffion ceffion of cteps, geftures,
attitudes, and looks, refpectively adapted to each gradation. 

A mafk then cannot but hide a great part of the neceffary expreffion, or juftnefs of action.
It can only be favorable to thofe who have contracted ill habits of grimacing or of contortions
of the face while they perform. 

There are however fome characters in which a mafk is even neceffary: but then great care fhould
be taken to model and fit it as exactly as poffible to the face, as well as to have it perfectly
natural to the character reprefented. The French are particularly, and not without reafon,
curious in this point. The 

The female dancers have naturally a greater eafe of expreffion than the men. More pliable in
their limbs, with more fenfibility in the delicacy of their frame; all their motions and actions
are more tenderly pathetic, more interefting than in our fex. We are befides prepoffeffed
in their favor, and lefs difpofed to remark or cavil at their faults. While on the other hand,
that fo natural defire they have of pleafing, independently of their profeffion, makes them
ftudioufly avoid any motion or gefture that might be difagreeable, and confequently any contortion
of the face. They, inftinctively then, one may fay, make a point of the moft graceful expreffion.

A woman, who fhould only depend on the exertion of ftrength in her legs or limbs, without attention
to expreffion, O preffion, would poffefs but a very defective talent. Such an one might surprize
the public, by the mafculine vigor of her fprings; but fhould fhe attempt to execute a dance,
where tender expreffions are requifite, fhe would certainly fail of pleafing. 

The female dancers have alfo an advantage over the men, in that the petticoat can conceal many
defects in their execution; even, if the indulgence due to that amiable fex, did not only make
great allowances, but give to the leaft agreeable fteps in them, the power of obtaining applaufe.

At the Italian theatres at Rome, in the Carnaval, where the female dancers are not fuffered
to perform the dances, and where the parts of the women are perform'd by men in the dreffes of
women, it it appears plainly, how much the execution fuffers by this expedient. However well
they may be difguifed, there is an inherent clumfiness in them, which it is impoffible for them
to fhake off, fo as to reprefent with juftnefs the fprightly graces and delicacy of the female
sex. The very idea of feeing men effeminated by fuch a drefs, invincibly difgufts. An effeminate
man appears even worfe than a mafculine woman. 

But however the confulting a looking-glafs gives to men, in general, the air of fops or coxcombs;
it is to thofe who would make a figure in dancing a point of neceffity. A glafs is to them, what
reflexion is to a thinking perfon; it ferves to make them acquainted with their defects, and
to correct them. To practice then before it is even recommendable, O2 mendable, that practice
will give the advantage of expertness, and expertnefs will give the grace of eafe, which is
invaluable; nothing being fuch an enemy to the graces as ftiffness or affectation. This is
a general rule both for compofition and performance. 

Education has doubtlefs a great fhare in giving early to the body a command of graceful pofitions,
efpecially for the grand and ferious dances, which, as I have before obferved, are the principal
grounds of the art. And once more, the great point is not to ftick at mediocrity; but to aim at
an excellence in the art, that may give at leaft the beft chance for not being confounded with
the croud. If it is true, that, among the talents, thofe which are calculated for pleafing,
are not thofe thofe that are the leaft fure of encouragement; it is alfo equally true, that for
any dependence to be had on them, it is fomething more than an ordinary degree of merit in them
that is required. 

In fupport of this admonition, I am here tempted to enliven this effay with the narrative of
an adventure in real life, that may ferve to break the too long a line of an attempt at inftruction.

A celebrated female dancer in Italy, defigning to perform at a certain capital, wrote to her
correfpondent there to provide her apartment fuitable to the genteel figure which fhe had
always made in life. On her arrival, her acquaintance feeing fhe had brought nothing with her,
but her own perfon and two fervants, vants, afked her when the expected her baggage. She anfwered,
with a fmile, "If you will come to-morrow morning " and breakfaft with me, you, and " whoever
you will bring with you, " fhall fee it, and I promife you it is " worth your while feeing, being
a " fort of merchandize that is very much " in fafhion." 

Curiofity carried a number early to the rendezvous, where, after an elegant breakfast, fhe
got up, and danced before them in a moft furprizingly charming manner. 

"These, faid fhe, (pointing at her " legs,) are all the baggage I have left; " the Alps have fwallowed
up all the " reft." The truth was, fhe had been really robbed of her baggage in her journey, and
the merchandize on which fhe fhe now depended, was her talent at dancing. Nor was fhe deceived,
for her inimitable performance, joined to the vivacity with which fhe bore her misfortunes,
in the fpirit of the old Philofopher, who valued himfelf upon carrying his all about him, made
her many friends, whofe generous compaffion foon enabled her to appear in her former ftate.

As to the compofition of dances, it is impoffible for a profeffor of this art, to make any figure
without a competent ftock of original ideas, reducible into practice. A dance fhould be a kind
of regular dramatic poem to be executed by dancing, in a manner fo clear, as to give to the underftanding
of the fpectator no trouble in making out the meaning of the whole, or of any part of it. All ambiguity
ambiguity being as great a fault of ftile in fuch compofitions, as in writing. It is even harder
to be repaired; for a falfe expreffion in the motions, geftures, or looks, may confufe and bewilder
the fpectator so as that he will not easily recover the clue or thread of the fable intended to
be reprefented. 

Clearnefs then is one of the principal points of merit which the compofer should have in view;
if the effect, refulting from the choice and difpofition of the ground-work of his drama, does
honor to his inventivenefs or tafte; the juftnefs, with which every character is to be performed,
is not lefs effential to the fuccefs of his production, when carried into execution. 

To be well affured of this, it cannot but be neceffary that the compofer pofer of the dance or
ballet-mafter, fhould be himfelf a good performer, or at leaft underftand the grounds of his
art. 

He muft alfo, in his compofition, be pre-affured of all the neceffaries for their complete
execution. Otherwife decorations either deficient or not well adapted; an infufficient
number of performers, or their being bad ones; or, in fhort, the fault of a manager, who, through
a mifplaced economy, would not allow the requifite expences; all thefe, or any of thefe, might
ruin the compofition, and the compofer might, after taking all imaginable pains to pleafe,
find his labor abortive, and himfelf condemned for what he could not help. There is no exhibiting
with fuccefs any entertainment of this fort without having P ing all the neceffary performers
and accompaniments. It will be in a great meafure perfect or imperfect in proportion as they
are fupplied or withheld. 

A good ballet-mafter muft efpecially have regard to both poetical and picturefque invention;
his aim being to unite both thofe arts under one exhibition. The poetical part of the compofition
being neceffary to furnifh a well-compofed piece that fhall begin with a clear expofition,
and proceed unfolding itfelf to the conclufion, in fituations well chofen, and well expreffed.
The picturefque part is alfo highly, effential for the formation of the fteps, attitudes,
geftures, looks, grouping the performers, and planning their evolutions; all for the greateft
and jufteft effect. He 

He fhould himfelf be thoroughly ftruck with his initial idea, which will lead him to the fecond,
and fo on methodically until the whole is concluded, without having recourfe to a method juftly
exploded by the beft mafters, that of choregraphy or noting dances, which only ferves to obftruct
and infrigidate the fire of compofition. When he fhall have finifhed his compofition, he may
then coolly review it, and make what difpofition and arrangement of the parts fhall appear
the beft to him. Every interruption is to be avoided, in thofe moments, when the imagination
is at its higheft pitch of inventing and projecting. There are few artifts who have not, at times,
experienced in themfelves a more than ordinary difpofition or aptitude, for this operation
of the mind; and it is thefe critical moments, P2 ments, which may otherwife be irretrievable,
they ought particularly to improve, with as little diverfion from them as poffible. They fhould
purfue a thought, or a hint of a thought, from its firft crudity to its utmoft maturity. 

A man of true genius in any of the imitative arts, and there is not one that has a jufter claim to
that title than the art of dancing, fenfible that nature is the varied and abundant fpring of
all objects of imitation, confiders her and all her effects with a far different eye from thofe
who have no intention of availing themfelves of the matter fhe furnifhes for obfervation.
He will difcover effential differences between objects, where a fuperficial beholder fees
nothing but famenefs; and in his imitation he will will fo well know how to render thofe differences
difcernible, that in the compofition of his dance, the moft trite fubject will affume the air
of novelty with the grace of variety. 

There is nothing difgufts so much as repetitions of the fame thing; and a compofer of dances
will avoid them as ftudioufly as painters do in their pieces, or writers tautology. 

The public complains, with great reafon, that dances are frequently void of action, which
is the fault of the performers not giving themfelves the trouble to ftudy juft ones: fatisfied
with the more mechanical part of dancing, they never think of connecting the part of the actor
with it, which however is indifpenfably neceffary ceffary to give to their performance, fpirit,
and animation. 

A dance without meaning is a very infipid botch. The fubject of the compofition fhould always
be ftrictly connected to the dances, fo as that they fhould be in equal correfpondence to one
another. And, where a dance is expletively introduced in the intervals of the acts, the fubject
of it fhould have, at leaft, fome affinity to the piece. A long cuftom has made the want of this
attention pafs unnoticed. It is furely an abfurd and an unnatural patchwork, between the acts
of a deep tragedy, to bring on, abruptly by way of diverfion, a comic dance. By this contraft
both entertainments are hurt; the abruptnefs of the transition is intolerable to the audience;
and the thread, efpecially of of the tragic fable, is unpleafingly broken. The fpectators
cannot bear to be so fuddenly toffed from the ferious to the mirthful, and from the mirthful
to the ferious. In fhort fuch an heterogeneous adulteration has all the abfurdity reproached
to the motley mixture in tragi-comedy, without any thing of that connection which is preferved
in that kind of juftly exploded dramatic compofition. How eafy too to avoid this defect, by
adapting the fubjects of the dances to the different exigences of the different dramas, whether
ferious, comic, or farcical! 

One great fource of this diforder, is probably the managers confidering dances in nothing
better than in the light of merely a mechanical execution for the amufement of the eye, and and
incapable of fpeaking to the mind. And in this miftake they are certainly juftifiable by the
great degeneracy of this art, from the pitch of perfection to which it was antiently carried,
and to which the encouragement of the public could not fail to reftore it. The managers would
then fee their intereft too clearly in confulting the greater pleafure of the public, not to
afford to this art, the requifite cultivation and means of improvement. 

The compofer, who muft even have fomething of the poet in him; the mufician, the painter, the
mechanic, are effentially neceffary to the contribution of their refpective arts, towards
the harmony and perfection of compofition, in a fine dramatic dance; even the dreffes are no
inconfiderable part of the the entertainment. The coftume , or in a more general term, propriety,
fhould have the direction of them. It is not magnificence, that is the great point, but their
being well afforted to character and circumftances. The French are notoriously faulty in
over-dreffing their characters, and in making them fine and fhowy, where their fimplicity
would be their greateft ornament. I do not mean a fimplicity that fhould have anything mean,
low or indifferent in it; but, for example, in rural characters, the fimplicity of nature,
if I may ufe the expreffion, in her holyday-cloaths. 

As to the decorations and machines efpecially, I know of no place where there is lefs excufe
for their being deficient in them than in London, where they are too manifeftly, to bear Q any
any fufpicion of flattery in the attributing it to them, executed to a perfection that is not
known in any other part of Europe. The quicknefs with which the fhifts and deceptions in the
pantomime entertainments are performed here, have been attempted in many other parts; but
the perfons there employed, not having the fame fkill and depth in mechanics as the artifts
here, cannot come up to them in this point. And it is in this point precifely that a compofer of
dances may be furnifhed with great affiftence in the effects from the theatrical illufion.
And in an entertainment, where by an eftablifhed tacit agreement between the audience and
performers, there is fuch a latitude of introducing fuperhuman perfonages, either of the
heathen deities, or of fairy-hood, inchanters, and the like, thofe tranfformations and deceptions
tions of the fight are even in the order of natural confequences, from the prefuppofed and allowed
power of fuch characters to operate them. At the fame time the rules of probability muft even
there be obferved. Nor is it amifs to be very fparing and referved in the compofition of thofe
dances, grounded on the introduction of purely imaginary beings, fuch as the allegorical
imperfonation of the moral Beings, whether the Virtues or the Vices. Unlefs the invention
is very interefting indeed, the characters diftinctly marked, and the application very juft
and obvious; their effect is rarely anfwerable to expectation, efpecially on the audiences
of this country. The tafte here for thofe airy ideal characters is not very high, and perhaps
not the worfe for not being fo. Q2 Among 

Among the many loffes which this art has fuftained, one furely, not the leaft regrettable,
even for our theatres, was that of the dances in armour, practifed by the Greeks, which they
ufed by way of diverfion and of exercife for invigorating their bodies. Sometimes they had
only bucklers and javelins in their hands but, on certain occafions they performed in panoply,
or complete fuits of armour. Strengthened by their daily and various manly exercifes, they
were enabled to execute thefe dances, with a furprifing exactnefs and dexterity. The martial
fimphony that accompanied them, was performed by a numerous band of mufic; for the clafh of
their arms being so loud, would elfe have drowned the tune or airs of the muficians. It is impoffible
to imagine a more a more fublime, fplendid and picturefque fight than what thefe dances afforded,
in the brilliancy of their arms, and the variety of their evolutions while the delight they
took in it, infpired them with as much martial fire, as if they had been actually going to meet
the enemy. And indeed this diverfion was fo much of the nature of the military exercife, that
none could be admitted who were not thoroughly expert in all martial training. In time of peace,
this kind of dance was confidered as even neceffary to keep up that fupplenefs and athletic
difposition of body, to bear action and fatigue, effential to the military profeffion. If
the practice had been neglected, but for a few days, they obferved a numbnefs infenfibly diffufe
itfelf over the whole body. They were perfuaded then that the beft way of preferving their health,
and fitnefs fitnefs for action, and confequently to qualify them for the moft heroic enterprizes,
was to keep up this kind of exercife, in the form of diverfion. 

Thefe martial dances, have, in fome operas of Italy, been attempted to be imitated, with fome
degree of fuccefs: but as the performers had not been trained up to fuch an exercife, like the
Greeks, it was not to be expected that the reprefentation fhould have the fame perfection,
or color of life. 

The compofition of the mufic, and the fuiting the airs to the intended execution of a dance,
is a point of which it is fcarce needful to infift on the importance, from its being fo obvious
and fo well known. Nothing can produce a more difagreeable difcordance than a performer's
dancing out of of time. And here it may be obferved, how much lies upon a dancer, in his being at
once obliged to adapt his motions exactly to the mufic and to the character: which forms a double
incumbence, neither point of which he can neglect, without falling into unpardonable errors.

Where dances are well compofed, they may give a picture, to the life, of the manners and genius
of each nation and each age, in conformity to the subject respectively chofen. But then the
truth of the coftume , and of natural and hiftorical reprefentation muft be ftrictly preferved.
Objects muft be neither exagerated beyond probability, nor diminifhed fo as not to pleafe
or affect. A real genius will not be affraid of ftriking out of the common paths, and, fenfible
fible that inventivenefs is a merit, he will create new theatrical fubjects, or produce varied
combinations of old ones. And where the decorations, or requifite accompaniments are not
fupplied as he could wifh, he muft endeavour to make the moft of what he can get, towards the exhibition
of his production; if not with all the advantage of which it is fufceptible, at leaft with all
thofe he can procure for it. Where the beft cannot be obtained, he muft be content with the leaft
bad. But efpecially a compofer of dances fhould never lofe fight of his duty in preferving to
his art its power of competition, as well as its affinity with the other imitative arts, in the
expreffion of nature; all the paffions and fentiments being manifeftly to be marked by motion,
geftures, and attitudes, to the time of a a correfpondent and well adapted mufic. While all
this aided and fet off, by the accompaniments of proper decorations of painting, and, where
neceffary, of machinery, makes that, a well compofed dance, may very juftly be deemed a fmall
poem, thrown into the moft lively action imaginable; into an action fo expreffive as not to
need the aid of words, for conveying its meaning; but to make the want of them rather a pleafure
than matter of regret; from its exercifing, without fatiguing, the mind of the fpectator,
to which it can never be but an agreeable entertainment, to have fomething left for its own making
out, always provided that there be no perplexing difficulty or ambiguity. Nothing of which
is impoffible to an artift who has the talent of making R a a right choice among the moft pleafing
objects of nature; of fufficiently feeling what he aims at expreffing; of knowing how far it
is allowable for his art, to proceed towards the embellifhing nature, and where it fhould ftop
to avoid its becoming an impertinence; and efpecially of agreeably difpofing his fubject,
in the moft neat and intelligible manner that can be defired. SOME SOME THOUGHTS On the Utility
of Learning to Dance , And Especially upon the MINUET . 

WAS I, in quality of a dancing-mafter, to offer even the ftrongeft reafons of inducement to
learn this art, they could not but juftly lofe much, if not all, of their weight, from my fupposed
intereft in the offering R2 fering them; befides the partiality every artift has for his art.

It would however exceed the bounds prefcribed to modefty itfelf, were I to neglect availing
myfelf of the authority of others, who were not only far from being profeffors of this art, but
who hold the higheft rank in the public opinion for folidity of underftanding, and purity of
morals, and who yet did not difdain to give their opinion in favor of an art only imagined frivolous,
for want of confidering it in a juft and inlarged view. 

After this introduction, I need not be afhamed of quoting Mr. Locke, in his judicious treatife
of education. 

"Nothing (says he) appears to me " to give children so much becoming " confidence and behaviour,
and " fo to raife them to the converfation "tion " tion of thofe above their age, as dancing. "
I think they fhould be taught " to dance as foon as they are capable " of learning it; for though
this confifts " only in outward gracefulnefs of " motion, yet, I know not how, it " gives children
manly thoughts and " carriage more than any thing." 

In another place, he fays, 

"Dancing being that which gives " graceful motions to all our lives, and " above all things,
manlinefs, and a " becoming confidence to young children, " I think it cannot be learned " too
early, after they are once capable " of it. But you muft be fure to have " a good mafter, that knows
and can " teach what is graceful and becoming, " and what gives a freedom and " eafinefs to all
the motions of the " body. " body. One that teaches not this, is " worfe than none at all; natural
awkwardnefs " being much better than apifh " affected poftures: and I think it " much more paffable,
to put off the " hat, and make a leg like an honeft " country-gentleman, than like an ill-fafhioned
" dancing-mafter. For as " for the jigging, and the figures of " dance, I count that little or
nothing " better than as it tends to perfect graceful " carriage." 

The Chevalier De Ramfay, author of Cyrus's travels, in his plan of education for a young Prince,
has (page 14.) the following paffage to this purpofe. 

"To the ftudy of poetry, fhould be " joined that of the three arts of imitation. " The antients
reprefented the " paffions, " paffions, by gefts, colors and founds. " Xenophon tells us of
fome wonderful " effects of the Grecian dances, and " how they moved and expreffed the " paffions.
We have now loft the " perfection of that art; all that remains, " is only what is neceffary to
" give a handfome action and airs to a " young gentleman. This ought not " to be neglected, becaufe
upon the " external figure and appearance, depends " often the regard we have to the " internal
qualities of the mind. A " graceful behaviour, in the houfe of " Lords or Commons, commands the
" attention of a whole affembly." 

And moft certainly in this laft allegation of advantage to be obtained by a competent fkill,
or at leaft tincture of the art, the Chevalier Ramfay, has not exagerated its utility. Quintilian
has has recommended it, efpecially in early years, when the limbs are the moft pliable, for
procuring that fo necessary accomplifhment, in the formation of orators gefture: obferving
withall, that where that is not becoming, nothing elfe hardly pleafes. 

But even independent of that confideration, nothing is more generally confeffed, than that
this branch of breeding qualifies perfons for prefenting themfelves with a good grace. To
whom can it be unknown that a favorable prepoffeffion at the firft fight is often of the higheft
advantage; and that the power of firft impreffions is not eafily furmountable? 

In affemblies or places of public refort, when we fee a perfon of a genteel carriage or prefence,
he attracts our regard regard and liking, whether he be a foreigner or one of this country. At
court, even a graceful addrefs, and an air of eafe, will more diftinguifh a man from the croud,
than the richeft cloaths that money may purchafe; but can never give that air to be acquired
only by education. 

There are indeed who, from indolence or felf-fufficiency, affect a fort of careleffnefs in
their gait, as difdaining to be obliged to any part of their education, for their external appearance,
which they abandon to itfelf under the notion of its being natural, free, and eafy. 

But while they avoid, as they imagine, the affectation of over-nicety, they run into that of
a vicious extreme of negligence, which proves nothing but S either either a deficiency of breeding,
or if not that, a high opinion of themfelves, with what is not at all unconfequential to that,
a contempt of others. 

Such are certainly much miftaken, if they imagine that an art, which is principally defigned
to correct defects, fhould leave so capital an one fubfifting as that of want of eafe, and freedom,
in the gefture and gait. On the contrary, it is as great an enemy to ftiffnefs, as it is to loofenefs
of carriage, and air. It equally reprobates an ungainly rufticity, and a mincing, tripping,
over-foft manner. Its chief aim is to bring forth the natural graces, and not to fmother them
with appearances of ftudy and art. 

But of all the people in the world, the Britifh would certainly be the moft in in the wrong for
not laying a great enough ftrets on this part of education; fince none have more confpicuoufly
the merit of figure and perfon; and it would in them be a fort of ingratitude to Nature, who has
done fo much for them, not to do a little more for themfelves, in acquiring an accomplifhment,
the utility of which has been acknowledged in all ages, and in all countries, and efpecially
by the greateft and most fenfible men in their own. 

As to the ladies, there is one light in which perhaps they would not do amiss to view the practice
of this art, befides that of mere diverfion or improvement of their deportment: it is that of
its being highly ferviceable to their health, and to what it can never be expected they fhould
be indifferent about, their beauty, it being the beft S2 and and fureft way of preferving,or
even giving it to their whole perfon. 

It is in hiftory a fettled point, that beauty was no where more florifhing, nor lefs rare, than
among fuch people as encouraged and cultivated exercife, efpecially in the fair fex. The various
provinces and governments in Greece, all agreed, fome in a lefs, fme in a greater degree, in
making exercife a point of female education. The Spartans carried this to perhaps an excels,
fince the training of the children of that fex, hardly yielded to that of the male in laborioufnefs
and fatigue. Be this confeffed to be an extreme: but then it was in fome meafure compenfated
by its being universally allowed, that the Spartan women owed to it that beauty in which they
excelled the reft of the Grecian women, who were themfelves themfelves held, in that point,
preferable to the reft of the world. Hellen was a Spartan. Yet the legiflator of that people,
did not fo much as confider this advantage among the ends propofed in prefcribing fo hardy an
education to the weaker fex. His views were for giving them that health and vigor of body, which
might enable them to produce a race of men the fitteft to ferve their country in war. 

But as the beft habit of body is ever infeparable from the greateft perfection of beauty, of
which its poffeffor is fufceptible, it very naturally followed, that the good plight to which
exercife brought and preferved the females, gave alfo to their fhape, that delicacy and fupplenefs,
and to their every motion, that graceful agility which caracterized the Grecian beauties,
and diftinguifhed tinguifhed them for that nymph-ftile of figure, which we to this day admire
in the defcription of their hiftorians, of their poets, or in the reprefentations that yet
remain to us in their ftatues, or other monuments of antiquity. 

But omitting to infift on the Spartan aufterity, and efpecially on their gimnaftic training
for both fexes, and to take the milder methods of exercife in ufe among the Grecians, we find
that the chace, that foot-races, and efpecially dancing, principally compofed the amufement
of the young ladies of that country; where, in the great days of Greece, no maxim ever more practically
prevailed, than that floth or inactivity was equally the parent of difeafes of the body, as
of vices of the mind. Agreeable to which idea, one of the greateft phyficians now in Europe,
the celebrated Tronchin, chin, while at Paris, vehemently declaimed againft this falfe delicacy
and averfion againft exercife; from which the ladies, efpecially of the higher rank of life,
derived their bad habits of body, their pale color, with all the principles of weaknefs, and
of a puny difeafed conftitution, which they neceffarily intail on their innocent children.
Thence it was that he condemned the ufing onefelf too much to coaches or chairs, which, he obferved,
lowers the fpirits, thickens the humors, numbs the nerves, and cramps the liberty of circulation.

Confidering the efficacy of exercife, and that fafhion has abolifhed or at leaft confined
among a very few, the more robuft methods of amufement, it can hardly not be eligible to cultivate
and encourage an art, fo innocent innocent and fo agreeable as that of dancing, and which at
once unites in itfelf the three great ends, of bodily improvement, of diverfion, and of healthy
exercife. As to this last efpecially, it has this advantage, its being fufceptible at pleafure,
of every modification, of being carried from the gentleft degree of motion, up to that of the
moft violent activity. And where riding is prefcribed purely for the fake of the power of the
concuffion refulting from it, to prevent or to diffipate obftructions, the fprings and agitations
of the bodily frame, in the more active kind of dances, can hardly not anfwer the fame purpofe,
efpecially as the motion is more equitably diffufed, and fuffers no checks or partiality from
keeping the feat, as either in riding, or any other method of conveyance. At leaft, fuch an entertainment,
tainment, one would imagine, preferable, for many reafons, to an excels of fuch fedentary
amufements as thofe of cards, and the like. 

Certainly thofe of the fair fex who ufe exercife, will, in their exemption from a depraved or
deficient appetite, in the frefhnefs or in the glow of their color, in the firmnefs of their
make, in the advantages to their fhape, in the goodnefs in general of their conftitution, find
themfelves not ill repaid for conquering any ill-habit of falfe delicacy and floth, to which
fo many, otherwife fine young ladies, owe the diforders of their ftomach, their pale fickly
hue, and that languid ftate of health which muft poifon all their pleafures, and even endanger
T their their lives. There are not ftrained nor far-fetched, confequences. 

But even as to thofe of either fex, the practice of dancing is attended with obvioufly good effects.
Such as are bleffed by nature with a graceful fhape and are clean-limbed, receive ftill greater
eafe and grace from it; while at the fame time, it prevents the gathering of thofe grofs and foggy
humors which in time form a difagreeable and inconvenient corpulence. On the other hand, thofe
whofe make and conftitution occafion a kind of heavy proportion, whofe mufcular texture is
not diftinct, whofe necks are fhort, fhoulders round, cheft narrow, and who, in fhort are,
what may be called, rather clumfy figures; there will greatly find their account in a competent
exercife of the art of dancing, not only as it will give them them a freedom and easfe one would
not, at the firft fight, imagine compatible with their figure, but may contribute much to the
cure, or at leaft to the extenuation of fuch bodily defects, by giving a more free circulation
to the blood, a habit of fprightlinefs and agility to the limbs, and preventing the accumulation
of grofs humors, and efpecially of fat, which is itfelf not among the leaft difeafes, where
it prevails to an excefs. Not that I here mean any thing fo foolifhly partial, as that nothing
but dancing could operate all this; but only place it among not the leaft efficacious means.

Nothing is more certain than that exercifes in general, diverfions, fuch as that of hunting,
and the games of dexterity, keep up the natural ftandard of ftrength and beauty, which luxury
and floth are fure to debafe. T2 Dancing 

Dancing furnifhes then to the fair-fex, whofe fphere of exercife is naturally more confined
than that of the men, at once a falutary amufement, and an opportunity of difplaying their native
graces. But as to men, fencing, riding and many other improvements have alfo doubtlefs their
refpective merit, and anfwer very valuable purpofes. 

But where only the gentleft exercife is requifite, the minuet offers its fervices, with the
greateft effect; and when elegantly executed, forms one of the moft agreeable fights either
in private or public affemblies, or, occafionally, even on the theatre itfelf. 

Yet I fpeak not of this dance here with any purpofe of fpecifying rules for for its attainment.
Such an attempt would would be vain and impracticable. Who does not know that almoft every individual
learner requires different inftructions? The laying a ftrefs on fome particular motion or
air which may be proper to be recommended to one, muft be ftrictly forbidden to another. In fome,
their natural graces need only to be called forth; in others the deftroying them by affectation
is to be carefully checked. Where defects are uncurable, the teacher muft fhow how they may
be palliated and fometimes even converted into graces. It will eafily then be granted that
there is no fuch thing as learning a minuet, or indeed any dance merely by book. The dead-letter
of it can only be conveyed by the noting or defcription of the figure and of the mechanical part
of it; but the fpirit of it in the graces of the air and gefture, and the carriage of the dancer
dancer can only be practically taught by a good mafter. 

I have mentioned the diftinction of a good mafter, moft affuredly not in the way of a vain filly
hint of felf-recomdation; but purely for the fake of giving a caution, too often neglected,
againft parents, or thofe charged with the education of youth, placing children, at the age
when their mufcles are moft flexible, their limbs the moft fupple, and their minds the moft
ductile, and who are confequently fufceptible of the beft impreffions, under fuch pretended
mafterf of this art, who can only give them the worft, and who, inftead of teaching, ftand themfelves
in need of being taught. The confequence then of fuch a bad choice, is, that young people of the
fineft difpofition in the world, contract, under fuch fuch teachers, bad, awkward habits,
that are not afterwards eafily curable. 

Thofe mafters who poffefs the real grounds of their art, find in their uniting their practice
with their knowledge, refources even againft the ufual depredations of age; which, though
it may deprive them of fomewhat of their youthful vigor, has fcarce a fenfible influence on
their, manner of performance. There will till long remain to them the traces of their former
excellence. 

I have myfelf feen the celebrated Dupre, at near the age of fixty, dance at Paris, with all the
agility and fprightlinefs of youth, and with fuch powers of pleafing, as if the graces in him
had braved fuperannuation. Such 

Such is the advantage of not having been content with a fuperficial tincture of this art; or
with a mere rote of imitation, without an aim at excellence or originality. 

But though there is no neceffity for moft learners to enter fo deep into the grounds and principles
of the art, as thofe who are to make it their profeffion, it is at least but doing justice to one's
fcholars to give them thofe effential inftructions as to the graces of air, pofition, and gefture
without which they can never be but indifferent performers. 

For example inftead of being fo often told to turn their toes out, they fhould be admonifhed
to turn their knees out, which will confequently give the true direction to the feet. A A due
attention fhould alfo be given to the motion of the inftep, to the air of finking and rifing;
to the pofition of the hips, fhoulders, and body; to the graceful management of the arms, and
particularly to the giving the hand with a genteel manner, to the inflections of the neck and
head, and efpecially to the fo captivating modefty of the eye; in fhort, to the diffufing over
the whole execution, an air of noble eafe, and of natural gracefulnefs. 

It might be too trite to mention here what is fo indifpenfable and fo much in courfe, the ftrict
regard to be paid to the keeping time with the mufic. 

Nothing has a better effect, nor more prepoffeffing in favor of the U per- performance to follow,
than the bow or curtfy at the opening the dance, made with an air of dignity and freedom. On the
contrary, nothing is more difguftful than that initial ftep of the minuet, when awkwardly
executed. It gives fuch an ill impreffion as is not eafily removed by even a good performance
in the remaining part of the dance. 

There is another point of great importance to all, but to the ladies efpecially, which is ever
ftrictly recommended in the teaching of the minuet; but which in fact like moft of the other
graces of that dance, extends to other occafions of appearance in life. This point is the eafy
and noble port of the head. Many very pretty ladies lofe much of the effect of their beauty, and
of the fignal power power of the firft impreffions, as they enter a room, or a public affembly,
by a vulgar or improper carriage of the head, either poking the neck, or ftooping the head, or
in the other extreme, of holding it up too ftiff, on the Mama's perpetually teizing remonftrance,
of "hold up your head, Mifs," without confidering that merely bridling, without the eafy grace
of a free play, is a worfe fault than that of which fhe will have been corrected. 

Certainly nothing can give a more noble air to the whole perfon than the head finely fet, and
turning gracefully, with every natural occafion for turning it, and efpecially without affectation,
or ftifly pointing the chin, as if to fhow which way the wind fits. U2 

But it muft be impoffible for thofe who ftoop their heads down, to give their figure any air of
dignity, or grace of politenefs. They muft always retain fomething of ignoble in their manner.
Nothing then is more recommendable than for thofe who are naturally inclined to this defect,
to endeavor the avoiding it by a particular attention to this capital inftruction in learning
the minuet. It is alfo not enough to take the minuet-fteps true to time, to turn out their knees,
and to flide their ftep neatly, if that flexibility, or rife and fall from the graceful bending
of the inftep, is not attended to, which gives fo elegant an air to the execution either of the
minuet, or of the ferious theatrical dances. Nothing can more than that, fet off or fhow the
beauty of the fteps. It 

It fhould alfo be recommended to the dancers of the minuet, ever to have an expreffion of that
fort of gaity and chearfulnefs in the countenance, which will give it an amiable and even a noble
franknefs. Nothing can be more out of character, or even difpleafing, than a froward or too
penfive a look. There may be a fprightly vacancy, an opennefs in the face, without the leaft
tincture of any indecent air of levity: as there may be a captivating modefty, without any of
that bafhfulnefs which arifes either from low breeding, wrong breeding, or no breeding at
all. 

But to execute a minuet in a very fuperior manner, it is recommendable to enter into fome acquaintance,
at leaft, with the principles of the ferious or grave dances, with a naturally genteel perfon,
perfon, a fuperficial knowledge of the fteps, and a fmattering of the rules, any one almoft
may foon be made to acquit himfelf tolerably of a minuet; but to make a diftinguifhed figure,
fome notion of the depths and refinements of the art, illuftrated by proper practice, are required.

It is efpecially incumbent on an artift, not to reft fatiffied with having pleafed: he fhould,
from his knowledge of the grounds of his art, be able to tell himfelf why he has pleafed; and,
thus by building upon folid principles, preferably to mere lucky hits, or to tranfient and
accidental advantages of form or manner, infure the permanency of his power to pleafe. 

There is a vice in dancing, againft which pupils cannot be too carefully guarded; guarded;
it is that of affectation. It is effentially different from that defire of pleafing, which
is fo natural and fo confident even with the greateft modefty, in that it always builds on fome
falfity, miftaken for a means of pleafing, though nothing can more furely defeat that intention;
there is not an axiom more true than that the graces are incompatible with affectation. They
vanifh at the firft appearance of it: and the curfe of affectation is, that it never but lets
itfelf be feen, and wherever it is feen, it is fure to of fend, and to fruftrate its own defign.

The fimplicity of nature is the great fountain of all the graces; from which they flow fpontaneous,
when unchecked by affectation, which at once poifon and dries them up. Nature 

Nature does not refufe cultivation, but fhe will not bear being forced. The great art of the
dancing-mafter is not to give graces, for that is impoffible, but to call forth into a nobly
modeft difplay thofe latent ones in his fcholars, which may have been buried for want of opportunities
or of education to break forth their native luftre, or which have been fpoiled or perverted,
by wrong inftruction, or by bad model's of imitations. In this laft cafe, the mafter's bufinefs
is rather to extirpate than to plant; to clear the ground of poifonous exotics, and to make way
for the pleafing productions of nature. 

This admirable prerogative of pleafing, infeparable from the natural graces, unpoifoned
by affectation, is in nothing more ftrongly exemplified, than than in the rural dances, where
fimplicity of manners, a fprightly eafe, and an exemption from all defign but that of innocent
mirth, give to the young and handfome villagers, or country-maids, thofe inimitable graces
for ever unknown to artifice and affectation. Not but, even in thofe rural affemblies, there
may be found fome characters tainted with affectation; but then in the country they are exceptions,
whereas in town they conftitute the generality, who are fo apt to miftake airs for graces, though
nothing can be more effentially different. 

But how fhall thofe mafters guard a fcholar fufficiently againft affectation, who are themfelves
notorioufly infected with it? Nay, this is fo common to them, that it is even the foundation
of a proverbial remark, that no gentleman X man can be faid to dance well, who dances like a dancing-mafter.
Thofe falfe refinements, that finical, affected air fo juftly reproached to the generality
of teachers, a mafter fhould correct in himfelf before he can well give leffons for avoiding
them to his pupils. And, in truth, they are but wretched sfbftitutes to the true grounds and
principles of the art, in which nothing is more ftrongly inculcated than the total neglect
of them, and the reliance on the engaging and noble fimplicity of nature. 

It is then no paradox to fay that the more deep you are in the art, the lefs will it ftifle nature.
On the contrary, it will, in the noble affurance which a competent fkill is fure to bring with
it, give to the natural graces a greater freedom and eafe of difplay. Imperfection of of theory
and practice cramps the faculties; and gives either an unpleafing faulteringnefs to the air,
fteps, and geftures, or wrong execution. And as the minuet derives its merit from an obfervation
of the moft agreeable fteps, well chofen in nature and well combined by art, there is no inconfiftence
in avering that art may, in this, as in many other objects of imitative fkill, effentially affift
nature, and place her in the moft advantageous point of light. 

The truth of this will be eafily granted, by numbers who have felt the pleafure of feeing a minuet
gracefully executed by a couple who underftood this dance perfectly. Nay, excellence in the
performance of it, has given to an indifferent figure, at leaft a temporary advantage over
a much fuperior one X2 in in point of perfon only; and fometimes an advantage of which the impreffion
has been more permanent. 

But befides the effect of the moment in pleafing the fpectators; the being well verfed in this
dance efpecially contributes greatly to form the gait, and addrefs, as well as the manner in
which we fhould prefent ourfelves. It has a fensible influence in the polifhing and fafhioning
the air and deportment in all occafions of appearance in life. It helps to wear off any thing
of clownifhnefs in the carriage of the perfon, and breathes itself into otherwife the moft
indifferent actions, in a genteel and agreeable manner of performing them.) 

This fecret and relative influence of the minuet, Marcel , my ever refpected fpected mafter,
whom his own merit in his profeffion, and the humorous mention of him by Helvetius , in his famous
book De L'Esprit , have made fo well known, conftantly kept in view, in his method of teaching
it. His fcholars were generally known and diftinguifhed from thofe of other mafters, not only
by their excellence in actual dancing, but by a certain fuperior air of eafy-genteelnefs at
other times. He himfelf danced the minuet to its utmoft perfection. Not that he confined his
practice to that dance alone; on the contrary, he confeffed himfelf obliged for his greateft
fkill in that, to his having a general knowledge of all the other dances, which he had practifed,
but efpecially thofe of the ferious ftile. But 

But certainly it is not only to the profeffed dancer, that dancing in the ferious ftile, or the
minuet, with grace and eafe, is effential. The poffeffing this branch of dancing is of great
fervice on the theatre, even to an actor. The effect of it fteals into his manner, and gait, and
gives him an air of prefenting himfelf, that is fure to prepoffefs in his favor. Perfons of of
every fize or-fhape are fufceptible, of grace and improvement from it. The fhoulders fo drawn
back as not to protuberate before, but as it were, to retreat from fight, or as the French exprefs
it bien effacees , the knees well turning outwards, with a free play; the air of the fhape noble
and difengaged; the turns and movements eafy; in fhort, all the graces that characterife a
good execution of the minuet, will, infenfibly on all other occafions, diftribute through
every every limb and part of the body, a certain liberty and agreeablenefs of motion eafier
to be conceived than defined. To the actor, in all characters, it gives, as I have juft before
obferved, a graceful mien and prefence; but, in ferious characters, it efpecially fuggefts
that ftriking portlinefs, that majeftic tread of the ftage, for which fome actors from the
very firft of their ap-appearance fo happily difpofe the public to a favorable reception of
their merit in the reft of their part. An influence of the firft impreffion, which a good actor
will hardly defpife, efpecially with due precaution againft his contracting any thing forced
or affected in his air or fteps, from his attention to his improvement by dancing, as the very
beft things may be even pernicious by a mifufe. Whatever is not natural, free, and eafy, will
undoubtedly, doubtedly on the ftage, as every where elfe, have a bad effect. A very little matter
of excefs will, from his aim at a grace, produce a ridiculous caricature. Too ftiff regulation
of his motions or geftures, by meafure and cadence, would even be worfe than abandoning every
thing to chance; which might, like the Eolian harp, fometimes fuffer lucky hits to efcape him;
whereas affectation is as fure forever to difpleafe, as it is not to efcape the being feen where
it exifts. 

Among the many reafons for this dance of the minuet having become general, is the poffibility
of dancing it to fo many different airs, though the fteps are invariable. If one tune does not
please a performer; he may call for another; the minuet ftill remaining unalterable. There

There is no occafion however for a learner to be confined to this dance. He fhould rather be encouraged,
or have a curiosity be excited in him, to learn efpecially thofe dances, which are of the more
tender or ferious character, contributing, as they greatly do, to perfect one in the minuet;
independently of the pleafure they befides give both in the performance and to the fight. The
dances the moft in requeft are, the Saraband , the Bretagne the Furlana , the Paffepied , the
Folie d'Efpagne , the Rigaudon , the Minuet du Dauphin the Louvre , La Mariee , which is always
danced at the Opera of Roland at Paris. Some of thefe are performed folo, others are duet-dances.
The Louvre is held by many the moft pleafing of them all, efpecially when well executed by both
performers, in a juft concert of motions; no dance affording Y ding the arms more occafion for
a graceful difplay of them, or a more delicate regularity of the fteps; being compofed of the
moft felect ones from theatrical dances, and formed upon the trueft principles of the art.
This dance is executed in moft countries of Europe without any variation. It is generally followed
or terminated by a minuet; and thefe two dances, the Louvre and the minuet, are at prefent the
moft univerfally in fafhion, and will, in all probability, continue fo, from their being both
pleafing beyond all others, to the performers, as well as to the fpectators, and from their
not being difficult to learn, if the fcholar has but common docility. 

Youth being for learning this art undoubtedly the beft feafon, for reafons as I have before
observed, too obvious obvious to need infifting on, the mafter cannot pay too much attention
to the availing himfelf of the pliancy of that age, to give his fcholars the neceffary instructions
for preparing and well-difpofing their limbs. This holds good, particularly with regard
to that propenfity innate to moft perfons of turning in their toes. I have already mentioned
the expediency of curing this defect, by the directing them to acquire a habit of turning the
knees outward, to which I have to add, that on the proper turn of the knee, chiefly depend the
graces of the under part of the figure, that is to fay, from the foot to the hip. 

Frequent practice alfo of dancing, or of any falutary exercife, is alfo highly recommendable
for obtaining a firmnefs Y2 nefs of body; for a tottering dancer can never plant his fteps fo
as to afford a pleafing execution. It may found a little odd, but, the truth is, that in dancing,
fprightlinefs and agility are principally produced by bodily ftrength; while on the contrary,
weaknefs, or infirmity, must give every ftep and fpring, not only a tottering, but a heavy air.
The legs that bear with the moft eafe the weight of the body, will naturally make it feem the lighteft.
A A Summary Account Of various kinds of DANCES In different Parts of the WORLD. 

Cantatur et faltatur apud omnes gentes, aliquo faltem modo , Quint In EUROPE. 

As almoft every country has dances particular to it, or, at leaft, fo naturalized by adoption
from others, that that in length of time they pafs for originals; a flight fketch of the moft
remarkable of them may ferve to throw a light upon this fubject, entertaining to fome, and both
entertaining and ufeful to others. 

In Britain , you have the hornpipe, a dance which is held an original of this country. Some of
the fteps of it are ufed in the country-dances here, which are themfelves a kind of dance executed
with more variety and agreeablenefs than in any part of Europe, where they are alfo imitatively
performed, as in Italy, Germany and in feveral other countries. Nor is it without reafon they
obtain, here the preference over the like in other places. They are no where fo well executed.
The mufic is extremely well adapted, and the fteps in general neral are very pleafing. Some
foreign comic dancers, on their coming here, apply themfelves with great attention to the
true ftudy of the hornpipe, and by conftant practice acquire the ability of performing it with
fuccefs in foreign countries, where it always meets with the higheft applaufe, when mafterly
executed. There was an inftance of this, fometime ago at Venice, at an opera there, when the
theater was as well provided with good fingers and dancers, as any other. But they had not the
good fortune to pleafe the public. A dancer luckily for the manager, prefented himfelf, who
danced the hornpipe in its due perfection. This novelty took fo, and made such full houfes,
that the manager, who had begun with great loss, soon saw himfelf repaired, and was a a gainer
when he little expected it. 

It is to the Highlanders in North-Britain, that I am told we are indebted for a dance in the comic
vein, called the Scotch Reel , executed generally,and I believe always in trio , or by three.
When well danced, it has a very pleafing effect and indeed nothing can be imagined more agreeable,
or more lively and brilliant, than the fteps in many of the Scotch dances. There is a great variety
of very natural and very pleafing ones. And a compofer of comic dances, might, with great advantage
to himfelf, upon a judicious affemblage of such steps as he might pick out of their dances, form
a dance that, with well adapted dreffes, correfpondent mufic, and figures capable of a juft
performance ance, ance, could hardly fail of a great succefs upon the theatre. 

I do not know whether I fhall not ftand in need of an apology for mentioning here a dance once popular
in England, but to which the idea of low is now currently annexed. It was originally adapted
from the Moors, and is ftill known by the name of Morris-dancing, or Morefc-dance. It is danced
with swords, by persons odly difguifed, with a great deal of antic rural merriment: it is true
that this diverfion is now almoft exploded, being entirely confined to the lower claffes of
life, and only kept up in fome counties. What the reafon may be of its going out of ufe, I cannot
fay; but am very fure, there was not only a great deal of natural mirth in it, but that it is fufceptible
enough of Z im- improvement, to refcue it from the contempt it may have incurred, through its
being chiefly in ufe among the vulgar;though moft probably it may have defcended among them
from the higher ranks. For certainly of them it was not quite unworthy, for the Pirrhic or military
air it carries with it, and which probably was the caufe of its introduction among fo martial
a people. Rude, as it was, it might require refinement, but it did not, perhaps, deferve to become
quite obfolete. 

In Spain , they have a dance, called, Les Folies d'Efpagne , which is performed either by one
or by two, with caftanets. There is a drefs peculiarly adapted to it, which has a very pleafing
effect, as well as the dance itfelf. In 

In France , their Contre-dances , are drawn from the true principles of the art, and the figures
and fteps are generally very agreeable. No nation cultivates this art with more tafte and delicacy.
Their Provencale dance, is moft delightfully fprightly, and well imagined. The fteps feem
to correfpond with the natural vivacity and gaiety of the Provencals. This dance is commonly
performed to the pipe and tabor. 

The Flemish dances run in the moft droll vein of true rural humor. The performers feem to be made
for the dances, and the dances for the performers; fo well assorted are the figures to the representation.
Several eminent painters in the grotefque ftile, Teniers efpecially, have formed many diverting
Z2 ing pictures taken from life, upon this fubject. 

At Naples , they have various grotefque dances, which are originals in their kind, being extremely
difficult to execute, not only for the variety of the fteps, but for the intricacy and uncommonefs,
or rather fingularity of them. 

But while I am mentioning Naples, I ought not to omit that effect of dancing, which is attributed
to it, upon thofe who are bitten with the Tarantula . The original of this opinion, was probably
owing to fome fensible phyfician, prefcribing fuch a violent motion, more likely to be kept
up in the patient, by the power of mufic, than by any thing. elfe, as might enable him to expel
the poifon by being thereby thrown into a copious fweat, and by other benefits from from fuch
a vehement agitation. This, it is fuppofed, was afterwards abufed and turned into a mere trick,
to affemble a croud and get money, either by fham bites, or by making a kind of fhow of this method
of practice in real ones. However, that may be, the various grimaces or contortions, leaps
and irregular fteps, commonly ufed on this occafion, to be executed to that fort of mufic, or
airs adapted to it, might afford a good subject for a grotefque dance, to be formed upon the plan
of a burlefque or mock-imitation: and I am not quite fure that the idea of fuch a dance, has not
been already carried into execution. 

The caftanets the Neopolitans frequently ufe, are of the largeft fize. It is also from Naples
that we have taken the Punchinello dance. At 

At Florence , they have a dance, called, il Trefchone . The country-women, in the villages,
are very fond of it. They are generally fpeaking, very robuft, and capable of holding out the
fatigue of this dance, for a long time. To make themfelves more light for it, they often pull
off their fhoes. The dance is opened by a couple, one of each fex. The woman holds in her hand a
handkerchief, which fhe flings to him whom fhe chuses for her next partner, who, in his turn
has an equal right to difpofe of it in the fame manner, to any woman of the company he chufes. Thus
is the dance carried on without any interruption till the affembly breaks up. 

The favorite dance of the Venetians , is what they call the Furlana , which is performed by two
perfons dancing a-round a-round with the greateft rapidity. Thofe who have a good ear, keep
time with the crossing their feet behind; and fome add a motion of their hands, as if they were
rowing or tugging at an oar. This dance is practiced in feveral other parts of Italy. 

The Peafants of Tirol , have one of the moft pleafant and grotefque dances that can be imagined.
They perform it in a fort of holy-day drefs, made of fkins, and adorned with ribbons. They wear
wooden fhoes, not uncuriously painted; and the women especially exprefs a kind of rural fimplicity
and frolic mirth, which has a very agreeable effect. 

The Grisons are in poffeffion of an old dance, which is not without its merit, and which they
would not exchange change for the politeft in Europe; they being as invariably attached to
it, as to their drefs. 

The Hungarians are very noify in their dances, with their iron heels, but when they are of an
equal fize, and dreffed in their uniforms, the agility of their fteps, and the regularity of
drefs in the performers, render them not a difagreeable fight. 

The Germans have a dance called the Allemande , in which the men and women form a ring. Each man
holding his partner round the waift, makes her whirl round with almoft inconceivable rapidity:
they dance in a grand circle, feeming to pursue one another: in the courfe of which they execute
feveral leaps, and fome particularly. pleafing fteps, when they turn, but fo very very difficult
as to appear fuch even to profefed dancers themfelves. When this dance is performed by a numerous
company, it furnifhes one of the moft pleafing fights that can be imagined. 

The Polish nobility have a dance, to which the magnificence of their drefs, and the elegance
of the fteps, the gracefulnefs of the attitudes, the fitnefs of the mufic, all contribute to
produce a great effect. Were it performed here on the theatre, it would hardly fail of a general
applaufe. 

The Cossacs , have, amidft all their uncouth barbarifm, a fort of dancing, which they execute
to the found of an inftrument, fomewhat refembling a Mandoline, but confiderably larger,
and which is highly diverting, from the extreme vivacity of the fteps, and the A a oddity oddity
of the contortions and grimaces, with which they exhibit it. For a grotefque dance there can
hardly be imagined any thing more entertaining. 

The Russians , afford nothing remarkable in their dances, which they now chiefly take from
other countries. The dance of dwarfs with which the Czar Peter the Great, solemnized the nuptials
of his niece to the Duke of Courland, was, probably rather a particular whim of his own, than
a national ufage. IN IN ASIA. 

In Turky , dances have been, as of old in Greece, and elfewhere inftituted in form of a religious
ceremony. The Dervifhes who are a kind of devotionifts execute a dance, called the Semaat in
a circle, to a ftrange wild-fimphony, when holding one another by the hand, they turn round
with fuch rapidity, that, with pure giddinefs, they often fall down in heaps upon one another.
Aa2 They 

They have alfo in Turky, as well as India and Perfia, profeffed dancers, efpecially of the female
sex, under the name of dancing-girls, who are bred up, from their childhood, to the profeffion;
and are always fent for to any great entertainment, public or private, as at feafts, weddings,
ceremonies of circumcifion, and, in fhort, on all occafions of feftivity and joy. They execute
their dances to a fimphony of various inftruments, extremely refembling the antient ones,
the tympanum , the crotala , the cimbals , and the like, as well as to fongs, being a kind of fmall
dramatic compofitions. or what may properly be called ballads , which is a true word for a fong
at once fung and danced: ballare fignifying to dance; and ballata , a fong, compofed to be danced.
It is probable that from thefe eaftern kind of dances, which are undoubtedly doubtedly very
antient, came the name, among the Romans, of balatrones . Nothing can be imagined more graceful,
nor more expreffive, than the geftures and attitudes of thofe dancing-girls, which may properly
be called the eloquence of the body, in which indeed moft of the Afiatics and inhabitants of
the fouthren climates conftitutionally excel, from a fenfibility more exquifite than is
the attribute of the more northern people; but a fenfibility ballanced by too many difadvantages
to be envied them. The Siamefe, we are told, have three dances, called the Cone , the Lacone ,
and the Raban . The Cone is a figure-dance, in which they ufe particularly a string-instrument
in the nature of a violin, with fome others of the Afiatic make. Thofe who dance are armed and
mafked, and seem to be a fighting rather than than dancing. It is a kind of Indian Pirrhic. Their
mafks reprefent the moft frightful hideous countenances of wild-beafts, or demons, that
fancy can invent. In the Lacone the performers fing commutually ftanzes of verfes containing
the hiftory of their country. The Raban is a mixed dance, of men and women, not martial, nor hiftorical,
but purely gallant; in which the dancers have all long falfe nails of copper. They fing in this
dance, which is only a flow march without any high motions, but with a great many contortions
of body and arms. Thofe who dance in the Raban and Cone have high gilt caps like fugar-loaves.
The dance of the Lacone is appropriated to the dedication of their temples, when a new ftatue
of their Sommona-codom is fet up. In 

In many parts of the Eaft, at their weddings, in conducting the bride from her houfe to the bridegroom's,
as in Perfia efpecially, they make ufe of proceffional mufic and dancing. But, in the religious
ceremonies of the Gentoos, when, at ftated times, they draw the triumphal car, in which the
image of the deity of the feftival is carried, the proceffion is intermixed with troops of dancers
of both fexes, who, proceed, in chorus, leaping, dancing, and falling into ftrange antics,
as the proceffion moves along, of which they compofe a part; thefe adapt their geftures and
fteps to the founds of various inftruments of mufic. 

Confidering withal that the Romans, in their moft solemn proceffions, as in that called the
Pompa , which I have before mentioned, in which not only the Pirrhic Pirrhic dance was proceffionally
executed, but other dances, in mafquerade, by men who, in their habits, by leaping and by seats
of agility, reprefented fatirs, the Sileni , and Fauni , and were attended by minftrels playing
on the flute and guitar; befides which, there were Salian priefts, and Salian virgins, who
followed, in their order, and executed their refpective religious dances; it may bear a question
whether not an unpleafing ufe might not be made, on the theatres, of proceffional dances properly
introduced, and connected, efpecially in the burlefque way. In every country, and particularly
in this, processions are efteemed an agreeable amufement to the eye; and certainly they muft
receive more life and animation from a proper intermixture of dances, than what a mere folemn
march can reprefent, where there is nothing to amufe but a long train of perfonages perfonages
in various habits, walking in parade. I only mention this however as a hint not impoffible to
be improved, and reduced into practice. 

But even, where it might be improper or ridiculous to think of mixing dances with a proceffion,
though it were but in burlefque, which muft, if at all, be the preferable way of mixing them,
the pleafure of those who delight in feeing proceffions and pageantry exhibited on the theatre,
might be gratified, without any violence to propriety, by making them introductory to the
dances of the grandest kind. For example; where a dance in Chinese characters is intended,
a proceffion might be previoufly brought in, of perfonages, of whom the habits, charactures,
and manners might be faithfully copied from nature, and from the truth of Bb things things,
and convey to the fpectator a jufter notion of the people from which the reprefentation was
taken, of their drefs and public processions, than any verbal defcription, or even prints
or pictures. After which, the dance might naturally take place, in celebration of the feftival,
of which the proceffion might be fuppofed the occafion. 

In order to give a more diftinct idea of this hint, I have hereto annexed the print of a Chinefe
proceffion taken from the defcription of a traveller into that country; by which a good compofer
would well know how to make a proper choice of what might be exhibited, and what was fit to be left
out; efpecially according as the dance fhould be, ferious or burlefque. In the laft cafe; even
even the horfes might be reprefented by a theatrical imitation. And certainly, bringing the
perfonages on in fuch a regular proceffion at firft, would give a better opportunity of obferving
their dreffes, than in the huddled, confufed manner of grouping them, that has been fometimes
practised: to fay nothing of the pleafure afforded to the eye by the proceffion itfelf. 

The print annexed reprefents the proceffion of a Chinefe Mandarin of the firft order. Firft
appear two men who ftrike each upon a copper inftrument called a gongh, refembling a hollow
difh without a border, which has pretty much the effect of a kettle-drum. 

Follow the enfign-bearers, on whofe flags, are written in large characters Bb2 the the Mandarin's
titles of honour. Next fourteen ftandards, upon which appear the proper fimbols of his office,
fuch as the dragon, tiger, phoenix, flying tortoife, and other winged creatures. of fancy,
emblematically exhibited. 

Six officers, bearing a ftaff headed by an oblong fquare board, raifed high, whereon are written
in large golden characters the particular qualities of this Mandarin. 

Two others bear, the one a large umbrella of yellow silk (the imperial color) of three folds,
one above the other; the other officer carries the cafe in which the umbrella is kept. 

Two archers on horfeback, at the head of the chief guard: then the guards guards, armed with
large hooks, adorned with filk fringe, in four rows one above another; two other flies of men
in armor, fome bearing maces with long handles; others, maces in the form of a hand, or of a ferpent:
others, equipped with large hammers and long hatchets like a crefcent. Other guards bearing
fharp axes: fome, weapons like fcythes, only ftrait. Soldiers carrying three-edged halberds.

Two porters, carrying a fplendid coffer, containing the feal of his Office. 

Two other men, beating each a gongh , which gives notice of the Mandarin's approach. 

Two officers, armed with ftaves, to keep off the croud. Two 

Two mace-bearers with gilt maces in the fhape of dragons, and a number of officers of juftice,
fome equipped with bamboes, a kind of flat cudgels, to give the baftinado: others with chains,
whips, outlaffes, and hangers. 

Two ftandard-bearers, and the captain of the guard. 

All this equipage precedes the Mandarin or Viceroy, who is carried in his chair, furrounded
with pages and footmen, having near his perfon an officer who carries a large fan in the fhape
of a hand-fire-fcreen. 

He is followed by guards, fome armed with maces, and others with long-handled fabres; after
whom come several enfigns and corners, with a great great number of domeftics on horfeback,
every one bearing fome neceffary belonging to the Mandarin: as for example, a particular Tartarian
cap, if the weather fhould oblige him to change the one he has on. 

From the above, it may appear, what fcope or range a compofer may have for the exhibition of proceffions
and pageantry of other nations, as well as of the Chinefe; in all which, nothing is more recommendable
than adhering, in the reprefentation, as much as the limitations of the theatre will admit,
to the truth of things, as they actually pafs in the countries where the scene is laid: which
is but, in faying other words, in this, as in every other imitative branch, ftrike to nature
as clofe as poffible. IN IN AFRICA. 

The fpirit of dancing prevails, almoft beyond imagination, among both men and women, in moft
parts of Africa. It is even more than inftinct, it is a rage, in fome countries of that part of
the globe. 

Upon the Gold-coaft efpecially, the inhabitants are so paffionately fond of it, that in the
midft of their hardeft labor, if they hear a perfon Cc fing, fing, or any mufical inftrument
plaid, they cannot refrain from dancing. 

There are even well attefted ftories of fome Negroes flinging themfelves at the feet of an European
playing on a fiddle, entreating him to defift, unless he had a mind to tire them to death; it being
impoffible for them to ceafe dancing, while he continued playing. Such is the irrefiftible
paffion for dancing among them. 

With fuch an innate fondnefs for this art, one would imagine that children taken from this country,
fo ftrong-made and fo well-limbed as they generally are, and fo finely difpofed by nature,
might, if duly inftructed, go great lengths towards perfection in the art. But I do not remember
to have heard that the experiment ment was ever made upon any of them, by fome mafter capable
of giving them fuch an improvement, as one would fuppofe them fufceptible of. 

Upon the Gold-coast, there long exifted and probably ftill exifts a cuftoms, for the greater
part of the inhabitants of a town or village to affemble together, moft evenings of the year,
at the market-place to dance, fing, and make merry for an hour or two, before bed-time. On this
occafion, they appear in their beft attire. The women, who come before the men, have a number
of little bells tinkling at their feet. The men carry little fans or rather whifks in their hand
made of the tails of elephants and horfes, much like the brufhes ufed to brufh pictures; only
that theirs are gilt at both Cc2 ends. ends. They meet ufually about funfet. Their mufic confifts
of horn-blowers or trumpeters, drummers, players on the flute, and the like; being placed
a-part by themfelves. The men and women, who compofe the dance, divide into couples, facing
each other, as in our country-dances, and forming a general dance, fall into many wild ridiculous
poftures, advancing and retreating, leaping, ftamping on the ground, bowing their heads,
as they pafs, to each other, and muttering certain words; then fnapping their fingers, fometimes
fpeaking loud, at other times whifpering, moving now flow, now quick, and fhaking their fans.

Artus and Villault add, that they ftrike each another's fhoulders alternately with thofe
fans; alfo that the women, laying ftraw-ropes in circles on the the ground, jump into or dance
round them; and clicking them up with their toes, caft them in the air, catching them as they
fall with their hands. 

They are ftrangely delighted with thefe gambols; but do not care to be feen at them by ftrangers,
who can fcarce refrain laughing, and confequently putting them out of countenace. 

After an hour or two fpent in this kind of exercife, they retire to their refpective homes. 

Their dances vary according to times, occurrences, and places. Thofe which are in honor of
their religious feftivals, are more grave and ferious. There have been fometimes public dances
inftituted by order of their Kings, as at Abrambo, a large a large town in Widaw, where annually,
for eight days together, there reforted a multitude of both fexes from all parts of the country.
This was called the dancing-feafon. To this folemnity all came dreffed in the beft manner,
according to their refpective ability. The dance was ridiculous enough; but it ferved to keep
up their agility of body. And amidft all the uncouth barbarism of their geftures and attitudes,
nature breaks out into fome expreffions of joy, or of the paffions, that would not be unworthy
of an European's obfervation. 

They have alfo their kind of Pirrhic dances, which they execute by mockfkirmifhing in cadence,
and ftriking on their targets with their cutlaffes. I have 

I have already mentioned that it is from Africa, the Morefc-dances originally came. But what
is fomewhat furprifing, the Portugueze themfelves, among whom I will not however include
the higher ranks of life in that nation, but, at leaft, the number of the people who adopted,
from the Caffrees, or Negroes of their African poffeffions, a dance called by them LasChegancas
, (Approaches) was fo great that the late King of Portugal was obliged to prohibit it by a formal
edict. The reafon of which was, that fome of the motions and geftures had fo lafcivious an air,
and were fo contrary to modefty, that the celebrated Frey Gafpar , a natural fon, if I miftake
not, of the late King of Portugal, reprefented fo efficacioufly to his Portugueze Majefty:
the fhame and fcandal of this dance being any longer fuffered, fered, that it was put down by
royal authority. Nor was this done without occafioning heavy complaints againft Frey Gafpar
, againft whom there were lampoons and ballads publickly fung, upon his having ufed his influence
to procure that prohibition. IN IN AMERICA. 

In this part of the world, fo lately difcovered, nothing is a ftronger proof of the univerfality
of dancing, of its being, in fhort, rather an human inftinct, than an art, than the fondnefs
for dancing every where diffufed over this vaft continent. Dd In 

In Brazil , the dancers, whether men or women, make a point of dancing bare-headed. The reafon
of this is not mentioned: it cannot however be thought a very ferious one, fince nothing can
be more comical than their geftures, their contortions of body, and the figns they make with
the head to each other. 

In Mexico , they have alfo their dances and mufic, but in the moft uncouth and barbarian ftile.
For their fimphony they have wooden drums, fomething in form of a kettle-drum, with a kind of
pipe or flageolet, made of a hollow cane or reed, but very grating to an European ear. It is obferved
they love every thing that makes a noife how disagreeable foever the found is. They will also
hum over fomething like a tune, when they dance thirty thirty or forty in a circle, ftretching
out their hands, and laying them on each others fhoulders. They ftamp and jump, and ufe the moft
antic geftures for feveral hours, fill they are heartily weary. And one or two of the company
fometimes ftep out of the ring, to make fport for the reft, by fhowing feats of activity, throwing
up their lances into the air, catching them again, bending backwards, and fringing forwards
with great agility. Then when they are in a violent fweat, from this exercife, they will frequently
jump into the water, without the leaft bad confequences to their health. Their women have their
dancing and mufic too by themfelves; but never mingle in those of the men. 

In Virginia , according to the author of the hiftory of that country, Dd2 they they have two different
kinds of dancing; the firft, either fingle, or at the moft in fmall companies; or, fecondly,
in great numbers together, but without having any regard either to time or figure. 

In the firft kind one perfon only dances, or two, or three at moft. While during their performance,
the reft, who are feated round them in a ring, fing as loud as they can fcream, and ring their little
bells. Sometimes the dancers themselves fing, dart terribly threatening looks, ftamp their
feet upon the ground, and exhibit a thoufand antic poftures and grimaces. 

In the other dance, confifting of a more numerous company of performers, the dance is executed
round stakes fet in the form of a circle, adorned with with fome fculpture, or round about a fire,
which they light in a convenient place. Every one has his little bell, his bow and arrow in his
hand. They alfo cover themfelves with leaves, and thus equipped, begin their dance. Sometimes
they fet three young women in the midft of the circle. 

In Peru , the manner of dancing has fomething very particular. Inftead of laying any ftrefs
on the motion of the arms, in moft of their dances, their arms hang down, or are wrapped up in a
kind of mantle, fo that nothing is feen but the bending of the body, and the activity of the feet;
they have however many figure-dances, in which they lay afide their cloaks or mantles, but
the graces they add, are rather actions than geftures. The 

The Peruvian Creolians dance after the fame manner, without laying afide their long fwords,
the point of which they contrive to keep up before them fo that it may not hinder them from rifing,
or in coupeeing, which is fometimes to fuch a degree that it looks like kneeling. 

They have a dance there, adopted from the natives, which they call Zapatas , (shoes) becaufe
in dancing they alternately ftrike with the heels and toes, taking fome fteps, and coupeeing,
as they traverfe their ground. 

Among: the favages of North-America, we are told there are various dances practifed, fuch
as that of the calumet, the leaders dance, the war-dance, the marriage-dance, the facrifice-dance,
all which, refpectively differ in the movements, ments, and fome, amidft all the wildnefs
of their performance, are not without their graces. But the dance of the calumet is efteemed
the fineft; this is ufed at the reception of ftrangers whom they mean to honor, or of ambaffadors
to them on public occafions. This dance is commonly executed in an oval figure. 

The Americans , in fome parts, prefcribe this exercife by way of phific, in their diftempers:
a method of treatment, not, it feems unknown to the antients: but, in general, their motive
for dancing, is the fame as with the reft of the world, to give demonftrations of joy and welcome
to their guefts, or to divert themfelves. On some occafions indeed, they make them part of the
ceremony at their affemblies upon affairs, when even their their public debates are preceded
by dancing, as if they expected that that exercife would roufe their mental faculties, and
clear their heads. The war-dance is alfo ufed by them, by way of proclamation of war againft
their enemies. 

The foregoing fummary fketch of fome of the various dances, which are practifed in different
parts of the globe, and which, to defcribe univerfally and minutely, would fill whole volumes,
may ferve to fhow that nature has, in all parts of the inhabited world, given to man the inftinct
of dancing, as well as of fpeaking, or of finging. But it certainly depends on the nations who
encourage the polite arts, once more to carry it up to that pitch of excellence, of which the
hiftory of the Greeks Greeks and Romans fhows it to have been fufceptible, among the antients,
however the moderns may have long fallen fhort of it. There has indeed lately appeared a dawning
hope of its recovery; which, that it may not be fruftrated, is the intereft of all who wifh well
to an innocent and even ufeful pleasure. Ee OF OF PANTOMIMES. 

As this branch of the art of dancing is often mentioned, efpecially in this country, without
a juft idea being affixed to it, or any other idea than what is vulgarly taken from a fpecies of
compofitions which are fometimes exhibited after the play, on the theatre here, (not to mention
Sadler's wells) and go by the name of pantomime entertainments; it may not be unacceptable
to the reader, my laying Ee2 ing down before him the true grounds and nature of this diverfion,
which once made fo great a figure in the theatrical fphere of action. 

And as, on this point, Monfieur Cahufac, an ingenious writer, has treated the hiftorical part
of it with fo much accuracy, that it was hardly poffible to offer any thing new upon it, beyond
what he has furnifhed; and that not to make ufe of his refearches would only betray me into a fruitlefs
affectation of originality, I am very ready to confefs, that for the beft and greateft part
of what I am now going to offer upon this fubject I am indebted to his production. 

That prodigious perfection to which the antients carried the pantomime art, appeared fo extraordinary
to the celebrated brated abbot Du Bos, that, not being able to contradict the authorities which
eftablifh the truth of it, he was tempted to confider the art of dancing in thofe times as fomething
wholly different from what is at prefent underftood by dancing. 

The chevalier Ramfay places it alfo among the loft arts. Both, no doubt, grounding their opinion
on that deficiency of execution on the modern theatres, compared to what is inconteftably
tranfmitted to us, by hiftory, of the excellence of the ancient pantomimes. 

But none have more contributed to eftablifh the opinion of the pantomime art being an art totally
different from that of dancing, add not merely an improvement of it, as was certainly the cafe,
than fome of the profeffors of the the art themfelves, who even exclaimed againft M. Cahufac,
for his attempts to give juicer notions, and to recommend the revival of it. 

We are too apt to pronounce upon poffibilities from our own meafure of knowledge, or of capacity.
Nothing is more common than to hear men of a profeffion declare loudly againft any practice
attempted to be eftablifhed for the improvement of their art, and peremptorily to aver fuch
a practice being impoffible, for no other reafon than that their own ftudy and efforts had not
been able to procure them the attainment of it. In this too they are feconded by that croud of
fuperficial people who frequent the theatres, and who can believe nothing beyond what themfelves
have feen: any thing above the reach of what they are accuftomed or or habituated to admire,
always feems to them a chimera. 

The reproach of incredulity is commonly made to men of the greateft knowledge, becaufe they
are not overapt to admit any propofition without proof: but this reproach may, with more juftice,
be ofteneft made to the ignorant, who generally reject, without difcuffion, every thing beyond
their own narrow conception. 

To thefe it may found more than ftrange; it may appear incredible, that on the theatre of Athens,
the dance of the Eumenides, or Furies, had fo expreffive a character, as to ftrike the fpectators
with irrefiftible terror. The Areopagus itfelf fhuddered with horror and affright; men grown
old in the profeffion of arms, trembled; the mul- multitude ran out; women with child mifcarried;
people imagined they faw in earneft thofe barbarous deities commiffioned with the vengeance
of heaven, purfue and punifh the crimes of the earth. 

This paffage of hiftory is furnifhed by the fame authors, who tell us, that Sophocles was a genius;
that nothing could withftand the eloquence of Demofthenes; that Themiftocles was a hero;
that Socrates was the wifeft of men; and it was in the time of the moft famous of the Greeks that
even upon thofe highly privileged fouls, in fight of irreproachable witneffes, the art of
dancing produced fuch great effects. 

At Rome, in the beft days of thisart, all the fentiments which the dancers expreffed, had each
a character of truth, fo fo great a power, fuch pathetic energy, that the multitude was more
than once feen hurried away by the illufion, and mechanically to take part in the different
emotions prefented to them by the animated picture with which they were ftruck. In the reprefentation
of Ajax in a frenzy , the fpectators took fuch violent impreffions from the acting-dancer who
reprefented him, that they perfectly broke out, into outcries; ftripped, as it were, to fight,
and actually came to blows among each other, as if they had caught their rage from what was paffing
on the theatre. 

At another time they melted into tears at the tender affliction of Hecuba. 

And upon whom were thefe lively impreffions produced? Upon the cotemporaries Ff tem- of Mecenas,
of Lucullus, Auguftus, Virgil, Pollio; upon men of the moft refined tafte, whofe criticifm
was as fevere as their approbation honorable; who never fpared their cenfure nor their applaufe,
where either was due. How, efpecially under the eyes of Horace, could any thing pafs the approbation
of the public, unlefs under the real of excellence in point of art and good tafte? Would Augustus
have declared himfelf the fpecial patron of a kind of entertainment that had been deficient
as to probability and genius? Would Mecenas, the protector of Virgil, and of all the fine arts,
have been pleafed with a fight that was not a ftriking imitation of beautiful nature? 

The proofs fhown of the perfection of dancing at Athens, and under the reign of Auguftus, being
inconteftable, it it is plain that what now paffes for the art of dancing, is as yet only in its
infancy. To difplay the arms gracefully, to preferve the equilibrium in the pofitions, to
form fteps with a lightnefs of air; to unfold all the fprings of the body in harmony to the mufic,
all there points, fufficient to what may be called private, or to affembly-dancing, are little
more than the alphabet of the theatrical dances, or of pantomime execution. The fteps and figures
are but writing-mafter is one who teaches the mechanical part of forming letters. A mere dancing-mafter
is an artift who teaches to form fteps. But the firft is not more different from what we call a
man of letters, or a writer , than the fecond is from what may deferve on the theatre, the name
of principal dancer. Ff2 Be- 

Befides the neceffity of learning his art elementally, a dancer, like a writer, fhould have
a ftile of his own, an original ftile: more or lefs valuable, according as he can exhibit, exprefs,
and paint with elegance a greater or leffer quantity of things admirable, agreeable, and ufeful.

Speech is fcarce more expreffive, than the geftual language. The art of painting, which places
before our eyes the most pathetic, or the moft gay images of human life, compofes them of nothing
but of attitudes, of pofitions of the arms, expreffions of the countenance, and of all there
parts dancing is compofed, as well as painting. 

But, as I have before obferved, painting can exprefs no more than an inftant of action. Theatrical
dancing can exhibit hibit all the fucceffive inftants it chufes to paint. Its march proceeds
from picture to picture, to which, motion gives life. In painting, life is only imitated; in
dancing, it is always the reality itfelf. 

Dancing is, evidently, in its nature, an action upon the theatres; nothing is wanting to it
but meaning: it moves to the right, to the left; it retrogrades, it advances, it forms fteps,
it delineates figures. There is only wanting to all this an arrangement of the motions, to furnish
to the eye a theatrical action upon any fubject whatever. 

The hiftory of the art proves that the dancers of genius, had no other means or affistance in
the world but this to exprefs all the human paffions, and the poffibilities possibilities
of it are in all times, the very fame. 

Both here, and in France, there have been fome of these dramatic pieces in action, by dance,
attempted; which have been well received by the public. 

Some years ago, the Dutchefs of Maine ordered fimphonies to be compofed for the fcene of the
fourth act of the Horatii ; in which the young Horatius kills Camilla. Two dancers, one of each
fex, reprefented this action at Sceaux ; and their dance painted it with all the energy and pathos
of which it was fufceptible. 

In Italy efpecially many fubjects of a what may be called low comedy, are very naturally expreffed
by dancing. In fhort, there is hardly any comic action but what what they reprefent upon their
theatres, if not with perfection, at least fatisfactorily. And certainly the dance in action
has the fame fuperiority over fheer unmeaning dancing, that a fine hiftory-piece has over
cutting flowers in paper. In the laft there is little more required than mechanical nicety,
and, at the beft, it affords no great pretention to merit. But it is only for genius to order,
diftribute and compofe, in the other. A Raphael is allowed to take place in the Temple of Fame,
by a Virgil; and the art of dancing is capable of having its Raphaels too. Pilades, and Bathillus
were painters; and great ones, in their way. (Picturefque compofition is not lefs the duty
of a compofer of dances, than of a painter. Among 

Among the antients, that Protheus , of whom fabulous hiftory records fuch wonders, was only
one of their dancers, who, by the rapidity of his fteps, by the ftrength of his expreffion, and
by the employment of the theatrical deceptions, feemed at every inftant, to change his form.
The celebrated Empufa was a female dancer, whole agility was fo prodigious that fhe appeared
and vanifhed like a fpirit. 

But it was at Rome that the Pantomime art received its higheft improvement. Pilades born in
Cilicia, and Bathillus of Alexandria, where the two moft furprifing geniufes, who, under
the reigns of Augustus Caefar, difplayed their talents in their utmoft luftre. The firft invented
the folemn, grave and pathetic dances. The compofitions of Bathillus thillus were in the lively,
gay, and fprightly ftile. 

Bathillus had been the flave of Mecenas, who had given him his freedom in favor of his talents.
Having feen Pilades in Cilicia, he engaged him to come to Rome, where he had difpofed Mecenas
in his favor, who, becoming the declared protector of both, procured to them the encouragement
of the Emperor. 

A theatre was built for them: the Romans flocked to it, and faw, with furprise, a complete tragedy;
all the paffions painted with the moft vigorous ftrokes of reprefentation: the expofition,
plot, cataftrophe expreffed in the cleareft and moft pathetic manner, without any other means
or affistence but that of dancing, executed to the fimphonies Gg the the beft adapted, and far
fuperior to any that had been before heard in Rome. 

Their furprife was not to end here. to this a fecond entertainment fucceeded; in which an ingenious
action, without needing the voice or fpeech, prefented all the characters, all the pleafant
ftrokes and humorous pictures of a good comedy. 

And in both there kinds, the executive talents of Pilades and Bathillus correfponded to the
boldnefs and beauty of the kind of compofitions they had ventured to bring on the ftage. 

Pilades efpecially, who was at the head of this project, was the most fingular man that had till
then appeared on the theatre. His fertile imagination tion conftantly fupplied him with new
means of perfecting his art and embellifhing his entertainments. Athenaeus mentions his
having written a book much efteemed on the depths and principles of his art. 

Before him, fome flutes compofed the orcheftra of the Romans. He reinforced it with all the
known inftruments. He added chorufes of dances to his reprefentations, and took care that
their fteps and figures, fhould always have some relation or affinity to the principal action.
He provided them with dreffes in the higheft tafte of propriety, and omitted nothing towards
producing, keeping up, and pufhing to the higheft pitch, the charm of the theatrical illufion.
Gg2 The 

The actions on the Roman theatres were tragic, comic, or fatirical; thefe laft pretty nearly
anfwering to what we underftand by grotefque or farcical. 

Efopus and Rofcius had been, from their excellence in declamation, the delight and admiration
of Rome. But on their leaving no fucceffors to their degree of merit; the tafte for dramatic
poetry which was no longer fupported by actors equal to them, began to decline; and the theatrical
dances under fuch great mafters as Pilades and Bathillus, either by their novelty, or by their
merit, or by both, made the Romans the lefs feel their lofs of thofe incomparable actors. The
geftual language took place of that which was declaimed; and produced regular pieces, acted
in the three kinds of tragedy, comedy, and farce or grotefque. The fpectators fpectators grew
pleafed with fuch an exercife of their underftanding. Steps, motions, attitudes, figures,
pofitions, now were fubftituted to fpeech; and there refulted from them an expreffion fo natural,
images fo refembling, fembling, a pathos fo moving, or a pleafantry fo agreeable, that people
imagined they heard the actions they faw. The geftures alone fupplied the place of the fweetnefs
of the voice, of the energy of fpeech, and of the charms of poetry. * This 

This kind of entertainment, fo new, though formed upon a ground-work already known, planned
and executed by genius, and adoped with a paffionate fondnefs by the Romans, was called the
Italic dance ; and in the tranfports of pleafures it caufed them, they gave to the actors of it,
the title of Pantomimes . This was no more than a lively, and not at all exagerated expreffion,
of the truth of their action, which was one continual picture to the eyes of the fpectators.
Their motion, their feet, their hands, their arms, were but fo many different parts of the picture;
none of them were to remain idle; but all, with propriety, were to concur to the formation of
that affemblage, from which refult the harmony, and, with pardon for the expreffion, the happy
all-together of the compofition and performance. A dancer learned from his very very name
of pantomime , that he could be in no efteem in Rome, but, fo far as he fhould be all the actor . 

And, in fact, this art was carried to a point of perfection hard to believe; but for fuch a number
of concurrent and authentic teftimonies. 

It appears alfo clearly from hiftory, that this art, in its origin, (fo favored by an arbitrary
prince, and who alfo made fome ufe of it, towards eftablishing his defpotifm, nay even primordially
introduced by Bathillus, a flave) could no longer preferve its great excellence, than the
fpirit of liberty was not wholly worn out in the Roman breafts; and, like its other fifter arts,
gradually decayed and funk under the fubfequent emperors. Pilades 

Pilades gave a memorable instance of the (as yet) unextinguifhed fpirit of liberty, when,
upon his being banifhed Rome, for fome time, by Auguftus Cefar, upon account of the difturbances
the pantomime parties occafioned, he told him plainly to his face, that he was ungrateful for
the good his power received, by the diverfion to the Romans from more ferious thoughts on the
lofs of their liberty. "Why do "not you," fays he, "let the people "amufe themfelves with our
quarrels?" 

This dancer had fuch great powers in all his tragedies, that he could draw tears from even thofe
of the fpectators the leaft ufed to the melting mood. 

But in truth, the effect of there pantomimes, in general, was prodigious. Tears Tears and fobs
interrupted often the reprefentation of the tragedy of Glaucus , in which the pantomime Plancus
played the principal character. 

Bathillus, in painting the amours of Leda, never failed of exciting the utmoft fenfibility
in the Roman ladies. 

But what is more furprifing yet, Memphir , a Pithagorean philofopher, as Athenaeus tells us,
expreffed, by dancing, all the excellence of the philofophy of Pithagoras, with more elegance,
more clearnefs and energy, than the moft eloquent profeffor of philofophy could have done.

Upon confidering all this, one is almoft tempted to fay, with M. Cahufac, "We have, upon the
ftage, excellent Hh cellent " feet, lively legs, admirable " arms: what a pity it is, that with
" all this we have fo little of the art of " dancing!" 

Our tragedy and our comedy have an extent and duration which are fupported by the charms of fpeech,
by the intereftingnefs of narration, by the variety of the fallies of wit. The action is divided
into acts, each act into fcenes, thefe fcenes fucceffively prefent new fituations, and thefe
fituations keep up the warmth of intereft and attention, form the plot, lead to the conclufion
or unravelment, and prepare it. 

Such muft have been, or fuch muft be, (but with more precifion and markingnefs) tragedies or
comedies reprefented by dancing; as gefture is fomething more marking and fuccinct than fpeech.
fpeech. There are required many words to exprefs a thought, but one fingle motion may paint
feveral thoughts, and fituations. 

In fuch compofitions then, made to be danced, the theatrical action muft go forward with the
utmoft rapidity: there muft not be one unmeaning entry, figure, or ftep in them. Such a piece
ought to be a clofe crouded, abftract of fome excellent written dramatic piece. 

Dancing, like painting, can only prefent fituations to the eye; and every truly theatrical
fituation is nothing but a living picture. 

If a compofer of dances fhould undertake to reprefent upon the ftage any great action or theatrical
fubject, he Hh2 muft muft begin by making an extract from it, of all the moft picturefque fituations.
No other parts befide thefe can enter into his plan; all the others are defective or ufelefs,
they can only embarras, perplex, confound, and render it cold and infipid. 

Whereas if the fituations fucceed one another naturally, and in great number; if their being
well linked together conducts them with rapidity, from the firft fituation to the laft, which
muft clearly and ftrikingly unravel the whole; the choice is complete, and the theatrical
effect will be fure. 

It is that final effect, of which, in the execution, the compofer and performer muft never lofe
fight. Succeffive pictures muft be exhibited, and animated with all the expreffion that can
refult refult from the impaffioned motions of the dance. 

This was doubtlefs the great fecret of the art of Pilades, who fo highly excelled in his ideas
of theatrical expreffion: this is, perhaps, to for all kinds of theatrical compofition, whether
to be declaimed, or to be executed by dancing, a general rule that is not to be flighted. 

One inftance of the regard fhewn by Pilades to theatrical propriety is preferved to us, and
not unworthy of attention. He had been publickly challenged by Hilas, once a pupil of his, to
reprefent the greatnefs of Agamemnon: Hilas came upon the ftage with bufkins, which, in the
nature of ftilts; made him of an artificial height; in confequence of which he greatly overtopped
topped the croud of actors who furrounded him. This paffed well enough, 'till Pilades appeared
with ah air, ftern and majeftic. His ferious fteps, his arms a-crofs, his motion fometimes
flow, fometimes animated, with paufes full of meaning, his looks now fixed on the ground, now
lifted to heaven, with all the attitudes of profound penfivenefs, painted ftrongly a man taken
up with great things, which he was meditating weighing, and comparing, with all the dignity
of kingly importance. The fpectators, ftruck with the juftnefs, with the energy and real elevation
of fo expreffive a portraiture, unanimoufly adjudged the preference to Pilades, who, coolly
turning to Hilas, faid to him, " Young man, we had to reprefent a king " who commanded over twenty
kings: you " made him tall: I fhowed him great ." It 

It was in the reign of Nero, that a cinical mock-philofopher, called Demetrius, faw, for the
firft time, one of thefe pantomime compofitions. Struck with the truth of the reprefentation,
he could not help expreffing the greateft marks of aftonifhment: but whether his pride made
him feel a fort of fhame for the admiration he had involuntarily fhewn, or whether naturally
envious and felfifh, he could not bear the cruel pain of being forced to approve any thing but
his own fingularities; he attributed to the mufic the ftrong impreffion that has been made
upon him: as, in that reign, a falfe philofophy very naturally had a greater influence than
the real, this man was, it feems, of confequence enough for the managers of the dances to take
notice of this partiality, or at leaft to be piqued enough, for their own honor, to lay lay a fcheme
for undeceiving him. He was once more brought to their theatre, and feated in a confpicuous
part of the houfe, without his having been acquainted with their intention. 

The orcheftra began: an actor opens the fcene: on the moment of his entrance, the fimphony ceafes,
and the reprefentation continues. Without any aid but that of the fteps, the pofitions of the
body, the movements of the arms, the piece is performed, in which are fucceffively reprefented
the amours of Mars and Venus, the Sun difcovering them to the jealous hufband of the goddefs,
the fnares which he fets for his faithlefs fpoufe and her formidable gallant, the quick effect
of the treacherous net, which, while it compleats the revenge of Vulcan, only publifhes his
fhame, the confufion of Venus, nus, 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 applaufe, but the Cinic,
out of himfelf, could not help crying out, in a tranfport of delight; " No! this is not a reprefentation;
" it is the very thing itfelf ." 

Much about the fame time a dancer reprefented the labors of Hercules. He retraced in to true
a manner all the different fituations of that hero, that a king of Pontus, then at Rome, and who
had never feen fuch a fight before, eafily followed the thread of the action, and charmed with
it, afked with great earneftnefs of the emperor, that he would let him have with him that extraordinary
dancer, who had made Ii fuch fuch an impreffion upon him. "Do " not, fays he to Nero, be furprifed
at " my requeft. I have for borderers " upon my kingdom, fome Barbarian " nations whofe language
none of my " people could underftand, nor they " learn ours. Such a man as this " dancer would be
an admirable " interpreter between us." 

It would then furely be a great error to imagine, that an habitual dexterity, a daily practice,
with their arms, their legs and feet, were the only talents of thefe pantomime dancers. Their
execution, without doubt, required all thefe advantages of the body in the moft eminent degree;
but their compofitions fuppofed, and indifpenfably implied an infinite number of combinations
which belong intirely to the mind, or intellectual faculties; as for example, efpe- efpecially
an attentive and judicious difcernment of the moft interefting truths of human nature. How
extenfive a ftudy this exacts, it is more eafy to conceive than to attain. 

And furely there is an evident neceffity for ftudying men, before one can undertake to paint
or reprefent them. It is not till after a profound examination of the paffions, that one ought
to flatter one's felf with characterifing them purely by the powers of external figns of actions.
All the paffions have affinities to each other, which it is only for a great juftnefs of underftanding
to feize; they have fhades that diftinguifh them, which nothing but a nice eye can perceive,
and which eafily efcape a fuperficial obferver. Ii2 In 

In ferious dancing, where the character of a hero is to be given, there are in his actions, in
the courfe of his life, certain marking ftrokes, certain incidents or extraordinary paffages,
which are fubjects proper for the ftage, and which muft be feparated from others perhaps more
brilliant in hiftory, but which would infrigidate a theatrical compofition. 

In the ftate of dancing of our days, the dancers, and even the compofers of dances, afpire to
little more than the mechanical part of their art; and, indeed, they hardly know any thing beyond
that, and cannot in courfe, cultivate what they have no conception of. 

When M. Cahufac wrote, he obferved that this was fufficient for the fpectators fpectators,
who required nothing more than a brilliant execution from the dancers in the old track of fteps
and capers; and this is, in fact, true of the greater number now. But lately, the tafte for dances
of action, animated with meaning and conveying the idea of fome fable or fubject, has begun
to gain ground. People are lefs tired with a dance, in which the underftanding is exercifed,
without the fatigue of perplexity, than by merely feeing, a fucceffion of lively fteps, and
cabriols, however well executed; which, in point of merit, bear no more proportion to that
of a well-compofed dance, than a tirefome repetition of vignettes, of head-pieces and tail-pieces,
would do to the gravings of hiftorical pieces after a Raphael, a Michael Angelo, or a Correggio.
As 

As hitherto the compofer of the dances of action, have not been able to recover that height of
perfection to which the antient pantomimes carried their art; the moft that any compofers
could do, I mean with fuccefs, (for there have been fome attempts made, that, for want of a proper
plan and execution, failed,) was to furnifh certain dances, in the nature of poemetti or fmall
dramatic poems, which, where the fubject of action has been clearly and intelligibly executed,
have ever been received with the moft encouraging applaufe by the public.) 

And here the ingenious author to whom I am fo much obliged in this chapter, furnifhes me with
rules of compofition for the dances of action, which can hardly be too much recommended. All

All theatrical compofitions ought to have three effential parts. 

By a lively dialogue, in a piece made to be fpoken, or by an incident dextroufly introduced in
one made for a dance in action, the fpectator is to be prepared for the fubject that is to be reprefented,
and to have fome acquaintance of the character, quality, and manners of the perfons of the drama:
this is what is called the expofition . 

The circumftances, the obftacles which arife out of the ground-work of the fubject, embroil
it, and retard its march without ftopping it. A fort of embarrafment forms itfelf out of the
actions of the characters, which perplexes the curiofity of the fpectators, from whofe even
guefs-work, the manner how all is to be ultimately unravelled is to to be kept as great a fecret
as poffible: and this embarrafment is what is called the plot . 

From this embarrafment, one fees fucceffively break forth lights, the more unexpected, the
better. They untold the action, and conduct it by infenfible degrees to an ingenious conclufion:
this is what is called the unravelment . 

If any of thefe three parts is defective, the theatrical merit is imperfect. If they are all
three in due proportion, the action is complete, and the charm of the reprefentation is infallible.

As the theatrical dance then is a reprefentation, it muft be formed of thefe three effentially
conftitutive parts. Thus it will be more or lefs perfect, according ing as its expofition fhall
be more or lefs clear, its plot more or lefs ingenious, its unravelment more or lefs ftriking.

But this divifion is not the only one that fhould be known and practifed. A dramatic work is commonly
compofed of five or fewer acts; and an act is compofed of fcenes in dialogue or foliloquy. Now
every act, every fcene, fhould have, fubordinately, its expofition, its plot, and its unravelment,
juft as the total of the piece has, of which they are the parts. 

So ought alfo every reprefentation in dancing to have thofe three parts, which conftitute
every thing that is a action. Without their union, there is no action that is perfect: a fault
in one of thofe parts will have a bad effect on the Kk others; others; the chain is broke; the picture
whatever beauty it may have in, other refpects, is without any theatrical merit. 

Befides thefe general laws of the theatre, which are in common to thofe compofitions of dances,
that are to be executed on it, they are fubjected to other particular rules, which are derived
from the primitive principles of the art. 

As the art of dancing effentially confifts in painting by geftures and attitudes, there is
nothing of what would be rejected by a painter of good tafte, that the dancer can admit; and,
confequentially, every thing that fuch a painter would chufe, ought to be laid hold of, diftributed,
and properly placed in a dance of action. Here 

Here, on this point, recurs that never too often repeated rule, as infallible as it is plain:
let nature, in every thing, be the guide of art; and let art, in everything, aim at imitating
nature : a rule this, than which there is not one more trite, more hackneyed in the theory, nor
lefs regarded in the practice. 

Nature then being always Nature, always invariable in her operations and productions; there
is no falfe conclufion, nor ftraining inferences, in avering, that the art of dancing could
not but be a great gainer by a revival of the tafte of the antients for the pantomime branch; which,
upon the theatre, converted a tranfient flafhy amufement of the eye, into a rational or fenfible
entertainment, and made of dancers, who are otherwife, a mere mechanical Kk2 cal compofition
of feet, legs, and arms, without fpirit or meaning, artifts formed to paint with the moft pathetic
expreffion, the moft ftriking fituations of human nature: I am not afraid of ufing here the
term of the moft pathetic expreffion, injurioufly to the great power of theatrical declamation;
becaufe the great effect and charm of the moment is, evidently, the more likely to be produced
by attitudes or geftures alone, unfeconded by the voice; for that the pleafure of the fpectator
will have been the greater for the quicknefs of his apprehension not having needed that help
to underftand the meaning of them. And this is fo true of the force of impreffion depending on
that part of bodily eloquence, that even in oratory, action was, by one of the greateft judges
of that art, pronounced to be the moft effential part of it. This 

This may be, perhaps, an exaggeration: but when people refort to a theatre to unbend, or relax,
they will hardly think their pleafure taftelefly diverfified by a fine pantomime execution
of a dramatic compofition, to the perfection of which, poetry, mufic, painting, decoration,
and machinery will have all contributed their refpective contingents. 

For the fubjects of thefe poetical dances, the compofer will undoubtedly find thofe which
are the moft likely to pleafe, in fabulous hiftory, efpecially for the ferious, or pathetic
ftile. This we find was the great refource of the antients, who had, in that point, a confiderable
advantage, from which the moderns are excluded, by the antient mithology having lope that
effect, and warmth of intereft, which accompanied com- all tranfactions taken from it by their
poets, and brought upon the theatre. The heroes of antiquity, the marvellous of their deities,
and the hiftories of their amours, or of their exploits, can never make the fame impreffion
on the moderns fo thoroughly differing in manners and ways of thinking, from thofe, to whom
fuch exhibitions were a kind of domeftic, and even religious remembrancers. The fpectators
of thofe times were more at home to what they law reprefented upon their theatres; the ground-work
of the fable reprefented to the audience being generally foreknown, contributed greatly
to the quicknefs of their apprehenfion; and its being part of their received theology, and
often of the hiftory of their own country, procured it the more favorable attention. The 

The greateft part of thefe advantages are wanting in the employment of thefe fictions among
the moderns; and to which however they are, in fome meafure, compelled to have recourfe, for
want of theatrical fubjects ftriking enough to be agreeably thrown into a dance; by which I
do not mean to exclude all fubjects that have not thofe poetical fictions of Greek and Roman
antiquity for a bafis; on the contrary, it might juftly pafs for a barrennefs of invention,
the being reduced conftantly to borrow from them, but purely to point out a treafure, ever open
to the artift who fhall know how to make a felection with judgment and tafte always remembering,
that the more univerfally the fable is foreknown the more eafy will the talk be of rendering
it intelligible in the execution. There. 

There are, doubtlefs, fome parts of the antient mithology fo obfcure, and fo little known,
that any plan taken from them, would, to the generality of the fpectators, be as great a novelty,
as if the compofer had himfelf invented the fubject. There are others again of which all the
intereft is entirely antiquated and exploded. 

As to the pieces of compofition in the comic vein, there is nothing like taking the fubject of
them from the moft agreeable and the moft marking occurrences in real, current life; and the
ftronger they are of the manners and practice of the times, the nearer they will feem to the truth
of nature, and the furer at once to be underftood, and to have a pleafing effect. And 

And here I fhall take the liberty of concluding with offering two inftances of poetic dances;
the one in the ferious, the other in the comic vein, which are furnifhed rather as hints of the
improvable nature of fuch compofitions, than in the leaft meant for models of them. 

The firft has for title, Venus and Adonis . 

The decoration reprefents a wood interfected by feveral walks, which form an agreeable perfpective
of diftances. At the bottom of the theatre, and in the middle, there is a grand walk, terminated
by a fmall mount, on the fummit of which is feen a colonnade, that forms the periftile of a temple.
Ll Venus, 

Venus, preceded by the Graces and feveral nimphs, comes out of the temple, defcends the mount,
and advances to the front of the wood; the fimphony to be the moft agreeable and melodious imaginable,
to announce the arrival of the goddefs of love. 

The Graces and the nimphs open the action, and by their geftures and fteps, exprefs their endeavour
to footh the impatience of Venus on the abfence of Adonis. The agitation in which fhe is, ought
to be painted on her countenance, and expreffed by the difcompofure of her fteps, marking her
anxiety and defire of feeing her lover. 

The found of the chace is heard, which betokens the approach of Adonis. Joy breaks forth in the
eyes, the geftures, and fteps of Venus and her train. Adonis, 

Adonis, followed by feveral hunters, enters through one of the fide-walks of the wood. Venus
runs to meet him, and feems to chide him for having been fo long away. He fhows her the head of a
ftag, which he has killed, and which is carried, as in triumph, upon a hunting-pole, by one of
the hunters; and offers it, as the fruit of his chace, in homage to the goddefs, who is prefently
appeafed, and graciously receives his offering. Thefe two lovers then exprefs in a pas-de-deux
, their mutual fatiffaction. 

The hunters mix with the Graces and nimphs, and form a dance which characterifes their harmony.

Soon a noisy fimphony, of military inftrumental mufic, gives warning of the arrival of Mars.
Venus, Adonis, Ll2 the the Graces, the nimphs, and hunters, fhow figns of uneafinefs and terror.

Mars, followed by feveral warriors, enters precipitately through a walk oppofite to that
by which Adonis and the hunters came. Venus feparates from Adonis, having infifted on his getting
out of the way of the formidable god of war. He withdraws with his train by the fame way as he came.
Mars, inraged with jealoufy, makers a fhew of going to purfue Adonis. Venus ftops him, and employs,
in her foothing and careffes, all the ufual arts of appearing and blinding a jealous lover.
She prevails at length, not only to diffipate his paffion, but to make him believe himfelf in
the wrong for having been jealous. The 

The warriors addrefs themfelves to the Graces and nimphs, and form together a dance expreffive
of a fort of reconciliation; after which Mars and his train return by the fame way as they came.

Venus, the Graces, and the nimphs, fee them go, and when they are got a little diftance from them,
teftify their fatiffaction at having got fo well over this interruption. 

Adonis returns alone: Venus fprings to meet him, and gives him to underftand that he has now
nothing to fear that Mars will not return in hafte. 

In the fame walk from which Adonis came, the hunters of his train are feen purfuing a wild boar,
that tries to efcape juft by where the Graces and the nimphs are, are, who, in their fright, attempt
to fly from him: but he is already fo near them, that they do not know how to avoid him. Adonis runs
haftily to pierce the boar with his javelin; but the boar gets him himfelf down. The hunters
arrive at that inftant, and kill the boar; but Adonis is neverthelefs mortally wounded, and
expires. 

Here it is that the mufic and the dance are to difplay their refpective powers: the one by the
moft plaintive mournful founds; the other by geftures and fteps in which grief and defpair
are ftrongly characterifed, ought to exprefs the profound affection into which Venus is plunged,
and the fhare the Graces, the nimphs, and the hunters take in it. Venus 

Venus appears to implore the aid of all the gods, to reftore her lover to her. She bathes him with
her tears, and thofe precious tears have fuch a virtue, that Adonis appears all of a fudden tranfformed
into an anemony or wind-flower. 

The Graces and the nimphs exprefs their furprife; but the aftonifhment of the hunters fhould
be yet more ftrongly marked. 

Venus herfelf is not the more comforted by this metamorphofis. A flower cannot well fupply
the place of her lover. She turns then her eyes towards the earth, and feems to invoke the power
of fome deity inhabitant of its bowels. The 

The flower difappears; the earth opens, and Proferpine rifes out of it, fitting on a chariot
drawn by black horfes, and having at her fide Adonis reftored to life. 

It is natural to imagine the joy that is at this to be expreffed, by the fimphony, by the geftures,
and fteps of Venus, of the Graces, the nimphs, and hunters. 

Proferpine, getting out of her chariot, holding Adonis by the hand, prefents him to Venus.
A pas-de-trois or trio-dance, follows, in which the joy of the two lovers at feeing one another
again is to be characterifed by all the expreffion, and all the graces of the moft pleafing dance,
while Proferpine teftifies her fatiffaction at having produced the re-union: after which,
fhe gets gets into her chariot, and re-defcends into the earth. 

The Graces, the nimphs, and hunters, exprefs how highly they are charmed at feeing Adonis again;
Venus and Adonis form a pas-de-deux , or duet-dance, in which the Goddefs takes off her girdle
or ceftus , and puts it upon Adonis, in the way of a fhoulder-belt, or as now the ribbons of moft
orders of knight-hood are worn, which is to him a fimbol of immortality. 

The Graces and nimphs teftify to Adonis how pleafed they are to fee him received into the number
of the demi-gods: the hunters pay their homage to him, and the whole concludes by a general country-dance.
Mm The 

The other fpecimen has for title, The Coquette Punished . 

The decoration reprefents a delicious garden, in which there are feveral compartments, feparated
by canals and jet-d'eaux . This fcenery fhould exhibit the profpect of at once a pleafure-garden,
and a fruit-one. 

In the bottom of this perfpective, there appear feveral gardeners bufied, fome in pruning
the hedges, others in fowing and planting: more towards the front are feen, fome women at work,
tying up the flowers, or cleaning them from pernicious leaves; others fetting roots in vafes.
All this forms the fcenical picture at the drawing up the curtain. A 

A fimphony mixed with the moft rural inftruments of mufic, begins with fort and foothing airs.

One of the female gardeners, more fhowifhly dreffed than the others, and who is employed upon
fome neceffary talk about the flower-vafes; feems however more attentive to the admiring
the flowers, than to do her work: and as fhe is ftanding near a canal, the is, when fhe imagines
none are taking notice of her, looking at her figure in the watery mirror, admiring herfelf,
and adjufting her drefs. Though fhe does all this by ftealth, her companions remark her coquettry,
make figns to each other, and point her out to the gardeners, who join the laugh at her, without
the coquet's perceiving it, who is too much taken up with herfelf. Mm2 The 

The fimphony fhould exprefs by the founds, as nearly as poffible, the mockery and burfts of
laughter from the reft of the gardeners. 

The coquet is fadly tempted to gather fome of the flowers for her own ufe, but dares not. In the
moment that fhe is expreffing the greateft mind for it, enters a gardener, who is not one of thofe
employed at work, and who makes up to her, fhows her a fine nosegay, and fignifies to her that
he is come on purpofe to offer it her. The coquet immediately leaves off her work; and this pas-de-deux
begins by all the little grimaces and falfe coynefs that the coquette oppofes to her acceptance
of the nofegay, but which at the fame time only the more betray the mind fhe has for it. The gardener
keeps preffing her to receive it. Her companions, curious curious to fee how this will end,
advance little by little towards them: the gardeners follow them; and all furrounding the
coquette and her fwain, form a dance, in which the men feem to excite the lover not to take a denial,
and the women want to engage the coquette to receive the nofegay; but all this, with a bantering
air: at length the coquette accepts it, fticks fome of the flowers in her hair, and the reft in
her bofom. Her companions and the gardeners, fhew by their figns, that they were very fure fhe
would take the nofegay and return to their, work. 

Another gardener now enters, on the fide oppofite to that on which the firft came, and advancing
with an air of gaiety, prefents to the coquette, a fmall bafket of fine fruit. In this pas-de-trois
, de-trois, fhe a-frefh makes a great many faces, about whether fhe will take the fruit or not.
The fwain of the nofegay expreffes his vexation at the intervention of this rival, but the coquette
manages fo well that fhe pacifies his jealoufy, and accepts the other's bafket of fruit, which
fhe hangs upon her arm. The gardeners do not quit their work, but they give to underftand by fhrewd
figns, what they think of the coquette's game. 

It is eafy to conceive, that the compofer of this mufic will, in the airs made for the pas-de-deux
, and pas-de-trois , pay attention to the different affections that are to be characterifed
by the dance. 

While the gardener who brought the nofegay, and the other who prefented fented the fruit, and
the coquette, are all feemingly in good harmony, enters a third gardener; gallantly dreffed,
of a moft engaging figure, having in his hands fome pink-and-filver ribbons. 

The fimphony fhould announce the arrival of this amiable gardener, by an air all expreffive
of brifknefs and gay gallantry. 

The gallant gardener approaches the coquette, and fhews her thofe glittering ribbons, which
at once catch her eye, and give her a violent longing for them. This new-comer takes notice of
the flowers in her hair and bofom, and of the fruit-bafket hung upon her arm. He gives her plainly
to underftand that fhe muft return all this to his rivals, if fhe has a mind to have the ribbons.
Thefe begin begin to exprefs their refentment; but the coquette is fo tranfported with the
pleafure of bedizening herfelf with thofe ribbons, that no regard can with-hold her: fhe returns
the flowers to the one, and the fruit to the other, and takes the ribbons. The two gardeners,
who fee themfelves flighted in this manner, threaten him who has given the ribbons, and throw
themfelves into attitudes of falling upon him; at which he puts on a refolute look, and does
not feem to fear them. Her companions and the gardeners leave their work, and advance fome fteps
forwards, being curious to fee how the fcene will end. 

The fimphony fhould here exprefs, by different airs, the refentment of the two two firft fwains,
and the refentment of the gallant gardener. 

The coquette ufes her beft arts to pacify the two angry gardeners; but it is all in vain; they
exprefs their indignation, and are determined to take their revenge upon their rival. Juft
in the inftant that they are preparing to attack him and that he is ftoutly ftanding upon his
defence, comes in a female gardener, amiable, lively, but without any mark of coquettry in
her looks or drefs; who, by the eager and frightened air with which fhe interpofes, and places
herfelf between the gallant gardener and the others, to prevent their hurting him, difcovers
the tender regard fhe has for him. Nn The 

The two others, in refpect to this charming girl, dare not proceed; but they give her to underftand
that the coquette has been so base as to return the flowers to the one, and the fruit to the other,
that fhe might get the ribbons from the gardener whom fhe is protecting from their just refentment.

At this the offended fair one expreffes to her lover her indignation, but does not the lefs for
that make the others fenfible that fhe will not fuffer them to hurt him. She fnatches next, from
the coquette, the ribbons. The whole company round teftify their approbation of what fhe has
done, even the two gardeners, who were, the moment before, fo angry, bursf out a-laughing for
joy, to fee the coquette fo well punifhed, being now left without flowers, fruit, or ribbons;
at which which fhe withdraws, overwhelmed with confufion, and with the loud laugh and rallying
geftures of her companions and the other gardeners. 

The gay gardener, vexed at having been furprifed by his miftrefs, in an act of gallantry to another
woman, wants to pafs it off to her as merely a fcheme to amufe himfelf, and to laugh at the coquette.
At firft fhe will not hear him; fhe treads the ribbons under her feet, and is going away in a paffion.
He ftops her, and entreats her forgivenefs with an air fo moving and penetrated, that, little
by little, fhe is difarmed of her anger, and pardons him, in fign of which fhe gives him her hand.

There is no need of fpecifying here what the dance in action, accompanied by by the mufic, fhould
exprefs in this pas-de-deux ; it is too obvious. 

The gardeners, men and women, teftify their rejoicing at this reconciliation, and the dance
becomes general. 

F I N I S.