A TREATISE ON THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF DANCING, WITH AN APPROPRIATE POEM, IN TWO CANTOS, AND
PLATES ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE ART. 

BY JAMES P. CASSIDY, PROFESSOR OF DANCING. 

"-Those move easiest who have learned to Dance." POPE. 

DUBLIN: PRINTED BY WILLIAM FOLDS, 38, GREAT STRAND-STREET. 

1810. 

TO THE NOBILITY AND GENTRY OF IRELAND , THIS TREATISE ON DANCING IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED
BY THEIR OBEDIENT AND VERY HUMBLE SERVANT, The AUTHOR. 

TO THE READER. 

Notwithstanding the variety and multiplicity of elaborate works, written in our language,
not only on the sciences, arts and trades, conducive to the good of society, but on the most trivial
and unimportant subjects; yet, on Dancing, an art equally ornamental as it is necessary and
useful, few treatises, if any, have appeared Since the general diffusion of knowledge through
the agency of the press. To PREFACE. 

To supply this deficiency in English literature, to remove the obstacles which have hitherto
prevented a more universal knowledge of this graceful accomplishment, to point out the necessity
of its more general adoption and of its being more uniformly attended to by our Irish nobility
and gentry, and to facilitate its acquisition by the aid of a few easy precepts deduced from
many years experience and practice; such have been the favorite objects which the author of
the following work had in view. 

The production of a treatise, corresponding with those ideas and objects, required a variety
of qualifications. An 

An early initiation under the best instructors, an ambition of arriving at superior excellence,
an experimental knowledge derived from professional practice for a series of years in the
fashionable circles, a particular attention to the stile of dancing in its different modes
and varying fashions, a contemplation of the beauties and graces of which it is susceptive,
and a close observance of the conformation of the limbs with the mechanical principles on which
bodily action and muscular motion depend, are a combination of acquirements on which the author,
however reluctant he feels in making so ostentatious an acknowledgment, founds his pretensions
to the competency and capability requsite for writing writing the Treatise on Dancing here
presented to the Irish public. 

In this essay will be found a comprehensive and clear explanation of the definitions, precepts,
and rules necessary for learning the various attitudes, positions and steps employed in that
art, with an historical account of Dancing, whether used as a religious ceremony, a festive
entertainment, or military exercise among the Jews, Greeks and other nations, both ancient
and modern. 

The natural alliance between music and dancing together with the effects of the former over
animate and inanimate bodies, are also exhibited and explained explained; and the whole interspersed
with some pleasant anecdotes illustrative of the subject. 

Though clearness and precision have been particularly aimed at in describing the mechanical
parts of the art; yet as the positions and attitudes are more effectually represented by pourtrayed
figures than by words, the author has, at no small expence, engaged the assistance of the first
artist in the Irish metropolis for delineating them on copper, and exhibiting the whole at
one view. 

The parents and guardians of youth will find the present work both important and interesting;
as beside its subject, subject, it Contains many very material observations and reflections
on the various defects of children, with plain, easy and efficient modes of obviating all such
defects whether natural or acquired. 

On the whole, the author rests his claim to public patronage on the novelty and merit of a work,
which professes to teach the prepossessing and conciliatory accomplishments of a genteel
deportment and polite address, and ultimately qualify youth for being introduced into the
sacred temple of the graces. 

James P. Cassidy . 

53, Jervis-street . CONTENTS. 

BOOK I. HISTORY AND THEORY OF DANCING. 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. On the Necessity of Exercise, &c . 1 

II. Definition and History of Dancing . 7 

III. Effects of Music on animate and 

. 10 

IV. Universality of Dancing among ancient 

. 14 

V. Of the various Modes of Dancing 

. 19 

VI. Curious Anecdotes respecting the Art 

. 25 

BOOK II. PRACTICAL PART. 

CHAP. PAGE 

I. Steps, Positions and Attitudes . 33 

II. Choice of Music, Bodily Defects, &c . 

42 

III. On Graceful Movements . 48 

IV. On the Department of the Body . 53 

V. On keeping exact time in Dancing . 57 

VI. On the Connection between Music and 

. 62 

VII. Reflections on the Minuet, Reel and 

. 66 

VIII. On Aukwardness and Affection, as 

. 70 

IX. On Graceful Movements in Bowing, 

. 76 A TREATISE ON THE ART OF DANCING. BOOK I. HISTORY AND THEORY OF DANCING. CHAPTER I. ON THE
NECESSITY OF EXERCISE, &c. 

The principal intention of the present publication is, besides that of shewing the antiquity,
explaining the terms, and teaching the Art of Dancing, to point out the necessity of its more
early adoption in our Irish academies and Schools, as a wholesome recreation, and health-preserving
exercise for the agreeable employment of youth during those hours necessarily set apart for
relaxation from their severer studies in the career of intellectual improvement. As there
are many parents and and guardians, however, though well inclined otherwise to give their
children a genteel education, who do not consider the importance of this art, and consequently
neglect its cultivation. till their children are too far advanced in years to be capable of
acquiring graceful movements; the following preliminary observations, therefore, on the
utility of this accomplishment are most respectfully submitted to their perusal and consideration.

How useful, how agreeable soever, study may be to the mind, it is very far from being equally
salutary to the body. Every one observes, that the Creator has formed an intimate connection
between the body and the mind; a perpetual action and re-action by which the body instantly
feels the disorders of the mind and the mind those of the body. The delicate springs of our frail
machines lose their activity and become enervated, and the vessels are choked by obstructions,
when we totally totally desist from exercise, and the consequence necessarily affects the
brain. 

A merely studious and sedentary life is therefore equally prejudicial to the body and the mind.
The limbs likewise become stiff, we contract an aukward, constrained manner, a certain disgustful
air attends all our actions, and we become very nearly as disagreeable to ourselves as to others.

An inclination to study is highly commendable, but it ought not, however, to inspire us with
an aversion to society. The natural lot of man is to live among his fellows, and whatever may
be the condition of our birth, or our situation in life, there are a thousand occasions where
people must naturally desire to render themselves agreeable: to be active and adroit, and
to dance with grace and elegance is the most pleasing and agreeable of all accomplishments.
A 

A liberal and learned education is, doubtless, one of the noblest and most desirable acquisitions
of life, as no person without it can be truly accounted genteel, and a person with it is entitled
to some honor. But it so happens, from some concurrence of circumstances, that those who are
most disposed to improve, and whose minds are best calculated for the reception of accomplishments,
are often debated from acquiring them; while others, who have every means in the world, save
inclination, squander those means in dissipation; subverting at once every particle of health,
education and morality. Though it is in the power of but very few to become adepts in universal
knowledge, everyone, certainly, in whatever situation, is capable in some degree, as far
as is consistent with that situation, of attaining so many accomplishments as to maintain
an easy, affable and pleasing conduct in society. To please, and be pleased, is one of the grand
ends ends of education, I mean of the inferior parts of education: and though the warn of this
be in the mouth of every one, the exertion to acquire it, is, it seems, generally dormant. 

To be perfectly accomplished may, indeed, require the application of years; yet a small but
sincere attention to a few things, added to a desire of pleasing, may very soon and very easily
supply, in a great measure, the want of a fine education. 

For with the possession of all the knowledge in the world, there is a something in the carriage
and address of every person still necessary to render him agreeable. The inferior branches
of education are, certainly, never to be despised, even by the most learned. A gentleman cannot
be called accomplished, without the art of dancing. How disgusting is it to see a man enter a
room that cannot dance a common step, did I say step, I should should have said, that cannot enter
it or take off his hat without a degree of aukwardness. To persons in the higher and middle classes
of life, I would strongly recommend a moderate skill in this art; for nothing tends more to refine
their address and prepare them for Society. With ladies, indeed, it is indispensible, and
a gentleman cannot mix in social life without it. 

It is my intention to consider the practical part of this art, and I shall therefore endeavour
briefly to point out the principles on which this practice is founded, and to shew in what manner
genius is here concerned, what it is that forms the talent of a Dancer, and what is that beauty
of expression, which has caused dancing be ranked among the polite arts. 

But before we proceed to the analysis of this art, such as it now is, it will be necessary to to
say a few words on the dances of the ancients, and of their several kinds, in order to facilitate
the understanding of what is to follow. 

Many sovereigns have founded particular academies, where this art has been taught either
solely to the young nobility and gentry, or to the citizens in general; and have appointed professors
in the colleges for the same purpose. This art cannot, certainly, be learned without masters;
and it is no small advantage to meet with such as proceed on clear and solid principles. As many
have attempted to teach this art without the least knowledge of music, it is, therefore, necessary
that they who commence the profession of a dancer, ought at least, to know the first principels
of music and to make themselves well acquainted with the times and measures marked therein,
in order to be the better enabled to convey their instructions according to the true method.
CHAPTER II. DEFINITION AND HISTORY OF DANCING. 

DANCING, as at present practised, may be defined "an agreeable motion of the body, adjusted
by art to the measures or tune of instruments, or of the Voice," but according to what we reckon
more agreeable to the true genius of the art, "Dancing is the art of expressing the sentiments
of the mind, or the passions, by measured steps or bounds made in cadence, by regulated motions
of the body, and by graceful gestures; all performed to the sound of musical instruments, or
the voice, and which forms at once, an exercise agreeable to the Performer, and pleasing to
the Spectator." Almost 

Almost from the first accounts we have of mankind, in history, we are told of their dancing;
we must not imagine, however, that the dances of the first inhabitants of both worlds, or all
those of ancient nations, were like such as are practiced in our days; for we cannot suppose
that when the royal Prophet David danced before the ark, he did it in the step of a minuet or country
dance, as that would present a very strange idea, and not very compatible with our notion of
ancient times. 

There is no account of the origin of the practice of dancing among mankind, yet it is found to
exist among all nations whatsoever, even the most rude and barbarous; and indeed, however
much the assistance of art may be necessary to make any one perfect in the practice, the foundation
must certainly lie in the machination of the human body itself. ? 5 CHAP. CHAPTER III. EFFECTS
OF MUSIC ON ANIMATE AND INANIMATE BODIES. 

THE connection existing between certain sounds and these motions of the human body, called
Dancing, hath seldom or ever been enquired into by philosophers, though it is certainly a very
curious speculation. The power of certain sounds not only over the human species, but even
over the inanimate creation, is indeed very surprising. It is well known the most solid walls,
nay the ground itself will be found to shake at some particular notes in music; this strongly
indicates the presence of some universally difused and exceedingly elastic fluid, which
is thrown into vibration by the concussion of the atmosphere upon it, produced by the motion
of of the sounding body; if these concussions are so strong as to make the large quantity of elastic
fluid vibrate, that is dispersed through a stone wall, or a considerable portion of the earth,
it is no wonder it should have the same effect upon that invisible and exceedingly subtile matter
that pervades and seems to reside in our nerves. 

Some there are that have their nerves constructed in such a manner, that they cannot be affected
by the sounds which affect others, and some scarce with any; while others have such an irritability
of the nerves in this case that they cannot, without the greatest difficulty, sit or stand still
when they hear a favorite piece of music played. 

It is conjectured, by very eminent philosophers, that all the sensations and passions to which
we are subject, do immediately depend upon the vibrations excited in the nervous nervous fluid
above mentioned. Hence musical sounds have the greatest power over those people who are of
a delicate, sensible frame, and who have strong passions. If it be true, therefore, that every
passion in human nature immediately depends upon a certain affection of the nervous system,
or a certain motion or vibration in the nervous fluid, we shall immediately see the origin of
the different Dances among different nations. One kind of vibration, for instance, raises
those passions of anger, pride, &c. which are indispensably necessary for warlike nations;
the sounds which are capable of exciting a similar vibration, would naturally constitute,
the martial music among such nations; and Dances conformably to it would be instituted. This
appears to be the case among barbarous nations, as we shall presently have occasion to remark.
Other vibrations of the nervous fluid produce passions of joy, love. &c. and sounds capable
of of exciting these particular vibrations, will be immediately formed into music for Dances
of another kind. 

As barbarous people are observed to have the strongest passions, so they are the most easily
affected by sounds, and the most addicted to dancing. Sounds, to us the most disagreeable,
the drumming with sticks upon an empty cask, or the noise made by blowing into reeds, incapable
of yielding any musical note tolerable to us, is agreeable music to them. Much more are they
affected by the sounds of instruments which have any thing agreeable in them. CHAP. CHAPTER
IV. UNIVERSALITY OF DANCING AMONG ANCIENT AND MODERN NATIONS. 

THE spirit of Dancing prevails almost beyond imagination among both men and women in most parts
of Africa; it is even more than instinct, it is a rage in some countries in that part of the globe,
upon the Gold Coast especially, the inhabitants are so passionately fond of it, that, in the
midst of their hardest labour, if they hear a person sing, or any musical instrument played,
they cannot refrain from dancing. There are, even, well attested stories of some negroes flinging
themselves at the feet of an European, playing on a violin, entreating him to desist unless
he had a mind to tire them to death, it being impossible for them to cease dancing while he continued
playing. The 

The same thing is found to take place in America; though, as the inhabitants of that continent
are found to be of a more fierce and barbarous nature than the African nations their dances are
still more uncouth, for they have also their dancing and music but in the most discordant and
barbarous stile. For their music they have wooden drums, something in form of a kettle drum,
with a kind of pipe or flagellet made of a hollow cane or reed, but very grating to an European
ear. It is observed that they love every thing which makes a noise, how disagreeable soever
the sound be. They will also hum over something like a tune when they dance 30 or 40 in a circle
stretching out their hands, and laying them on each others shoulders; they stamp and jump and
use the most antic gestures for several hours till they are heartly wearied, and one or two of
the company sometimes will step out of the ring to make sport for the rest, by shewing feats of
activity. They wing their lances up into the air air, catching them again, bending backwards
and springing forwards with great agility. 

The Greeks had martial Dances which they accounted very useful for keeping up the warlike spirit
of their youth, but the Romans, though equally warlike with the Greeks, seem not to have had
any thing of that kind; this may be probable owing to the want of that romantic turn for which
the Greeks were so remarkable; the Romans had no heroes among them, such as Hercules, Achilles,
or Ajax, nor does the whole Roman history furnish an example of a general, that made war after
the manner of Alexander the Great. Though their soldiers were as valiant as ever the Greeks
could pretend to be, the object with them was the honour of the republic, and not their own personal
praise; hence there was less fury and much more cool deliberate valour exercised by the Romans
than by any other nation, whatsoever. The passions passions of pride, resentment, obstinacy,
&c. were excited in them not by the mechanical means of music and dancing, but by being taught
that it was their chief honour to fight for the republic. It does not however appear that the
Romans were, at all, less capable of being affected by dancing and music, than the Greeks. When
dancing was once introduced it had the same effect at Rome as at Athens. 

Among the Jews, Dancing seems to have made a part of the religious worship on some occasions,
as we learn from passages in the psalms; though we do not find either that or singing positively
enjoined as a divine precept. In the christian churches mentioned in the new Testament, there
is no account of dancing being introduced as an act of worship; though it is certain that it was
used as such in after ages. At * Limoges, not long ago, the people used used to dance round in the
choir of the church which is Under the invocation of their patron-saint, and at the end of the
psalm; instead of the Glori Patria, they sung as follows, Saint Marcel pray for us and we will
dance in honour of you . 

Dancing would now be looked upon as the highest degree of profanation in a religious assembly;
yet it is certain, that dancing considered as an expression of joy, is no more a profanation
than singing, or simple speaking. CHAP. CHAPTER V. OF THE VARIOUS MODES OF DANCING AMONG THE
ANCIENTS. 

PLATO reduces the Dances of the Ancients to three classes: first, the military dances, Which
tended to make the body robust, active, and well disposed for all the exercises of war: second
the domestic dances which had for their object an agreeable and innocent relaxation and amusement:
third, the mediatorial dances, which were in use at expiations and sacrifices. Of military
dances there were two sorts, the Gymnopedique dance or the dance of children, the Enoplian
or armed dance. The Spartans had invented the first for an early excitation of the courage of
their children, and to lead them on insensibly to the exercise of the armed dance. This This
childrens dance used to be executed in the public place. It was composed of choirs, the one of
grown men; the other of children: whence being chiefly designed for the latter it took its name:
they were, both of them, in a state of nudity: the choir of the children regulated their motions
by those of the men, and all danced to the same time singing the poems of Thales, Alecman and Dionysiodotus.
The Enoplian or Pyrrhic was danced by young men, armed cap-a-pee, who executed, to the sound
of the flute, all the proper movements for attack or defence: it was composed of four parts;
first the podism or footing, which consisted in a quick shifting motion of the feet, such as
was necessary for overtaking a flying enemy, or for getting away from him when an over-match.
The second part was the Xiphism, this was a kind of mock-fight in which the dancers imitated
all the motions of combatants; aiming a stroke, darting a javelin, or dexterously dodging,
dodging, parrying or avoiding a blow or thrust. The third part called the Komes, consisted
in very high leaps or vaultings which the dancers frequently repeated for the better using
themselves occasionally to leap over a ditch or spring over a walk The Tatiaconos was the fourth
and last part; this was a square figure executed by slow and majestic movements, but it is uncertain
whether it was every where executed in the same manner. 

Of all the Greeks, the Spartans were those who most cultivated the Pyrrhic Dance, Athenaeus
relates that they had a law, by which they were obliged to exercise their children at it from
the age of five years. This warlike people constantly retained the custom of accompanying
their dances with hymns and songs, the following was sung for the dance called Trichoria, said
to be instituted by Lycurgus, and which had its name from its being composed of three choirs,
one one of children, another of young men, and the third of old. The old men opened the dance,
saying "in time past we were valiant;" the young men answered "we are so at present," "we shall
be still more so when our time comes" replied the chorus of children. The Spartans never danced
but with real arms: in process of time, however, other nations came to use only weapons of wood
on such occasions, nay it was only so late as the days of Athenaeus, who lived in the second century
that the dancers of the Pyrrhic, instead of arms carried only flasks, ivy-bound wands, thyrsuses,
or reeds but even in Aristotle's days they had begun to use thyrsuses, instead of pikes and lighted
torches in lieu of javelins and swords. With these torches they executed a Dance called the
"conflagration of the world." 

Among the ancients there were no festivals nor religious assemblies, but what were accompanied
accompanied with songs and dances: it was not held possible to celebrate any mystery or to be
initiated without the intervention of these two arts. In short they were looked upon to be so
essential in these kind of ceremonies that to express the crime of such as were guilty of revealing
the sacred mysteries they employed the word Keistie to be out of the dance. The most ancient
of those religious dances, is the Bacchic, which was not only consecrated to Bacchus, but to
all those deities whose festivals were celebrated with the greatest enthusiasm. The most
grave and majestic was the Hyporchematic, it was executed to the lyre and accompanied with
the voice. At his return strom Crete, Theseus instituted a dance at which he himself assisted
at the head of a numerous and splendid band of youth round the Altar of Apollo; the dance was composed
of three parts, the strophe, the antistrophe and the stationary. In the strophe the movements
were from the right to the left, in the antistrophe antistrophe from the left to the right: so
that the stationary did not mean an absolute pause or rest, but only a more grave or slow movement.
Plutarch is persuaded that in this dance there is a profound mystery; he thinks that by the strophe
is indicated the motion of the world from east to west, by the antistrophe, the motion of the
planets from west to east, and by the stationary, the stability of the earth: to this dance Theseus
gave the name of Geranos or the Crane, because the figures which characterised it bore a resemblance
to those described by cranes in their flight. CHAP. CHAPTER VI. CURIOUS ANECDOTES RESPECTING
THE ART OF DANCING. 

FORMERLY they danced in France and elsewhere, the Pavan, a grave Dance that came from Spain,
wherein the Dancers made a ring by passing one before the other like peacocks, with their long
tails; the noblemen perfomed this serious dance with a cap of state and a sword, the judges in
their long robes, the princes in their mantles, and the ladies with the tails of their robes
trailing behind them. This was what they called the grand ball: such gravity would appear highly
comic in our days, as all affectation is now laid aside, and nothing is called serious but what
is really so. Such mimickries of the majestic as these, would be regarded as C childish, childish,
and treated with contempt. In the time of Lewis the XIV. they danced at court and at Paris, amiable
Vainqueurs Passepies, Sarabands, Courants, &c. but all these grand matters have been dismissed
and consigned to the wardrobe of ancient gallantry. 

The grave Motesquieu has written on dancing as follows: "Dancing pleases by its lightness,
by a certain grace, by the beauty and variety of its attitudes, and by its connexion with music,
&c." 

Noverre said of a celebrated opera dancer, "she is, whilst dancing, always tender, always
graceful, sometimes a butterfly, sometimes a zephyr, at one moment inconstant, at another
faithful, always animated by a new sentiment, she represents with delicacy all the shades
of Iove"-such dancing is the true poetry of motion. Marguerite 

Marguerite de Valois, first wife of Henry the IV. of France, was beautiful in her person, very
fascinating in her manners, and danced with such peculiar grace, that the celebrated Don John
of Austria, went incognito from Brussels to Paris, to see her dance. 

Conformable to the manners and etiquette of particular times and occasions, dancing has been
subjected to many whimsical circumstances. During the reigns of Louis XIV. and XV. at the court-balls,
the princess or other lady, whilst dancing a minuet, was always obliged to turn her front to
the king, and consequently her back to her partner, who was under the same necessity. 

Soon after the execution of Robespiere, the released prisoners instituted subscription-balls,
which they called bals a la victime : the qualification for a subscriber was, that he or she must
have lost a grand-father, C2 grand-mother, grand-mother, father, mother, sister, uncle,
aunt, son, daughter, husband, or wife, by the guillotine. However the rage for this species
of dancing assemblies, soon subsided. 

The following story from Voltaire, may not be unappropriate: 

Nabussan, King of Serendil, was one of the best princes of Asia, and gained the esteem of all
those with whom he conversed; this good prince was continually praised, cheated and plundered:
the receiver general of the kingdom set the example, which was faithfully followed by every
one else. The king knew this, he had frequently changed his treasurer, but he had never been
able to change the established custom, of dividing the royal revenues into two unequal parts,
of which the smallest always reverted to the king, and the largest to the administrators. A
wise old philosopher, who had not long been been introduced at court, perceived this grievance,
and proposed an infallible method of obtaining a man with clean hands for the office in question.
The king greatly pleased, demanded how this might be done? by only, replied the sage, making
all those who may offer themselves as candidates for the dignity of treasurer dance before
you, and he who shall dance he the lightest, will be infallibly the most honest man. You jest,
said the king, this is a pleasant way of chusing a receiver general, what, do you pretend that
he who cuts the best caper, will be the most able and upright financier; I will not engage he shall
be the most able, answered the sage, but I assure you he will certainly be the most honest. 

The old man spoke with so much confidence, that on the same day a royal proclamation was issued,
enjoining all those who were inclined to become candidates for the the office of receiver general
of his majesty's finances, to present themselves on the first day of the crocodile-moon, in
the king's anti-chamber habited in light silks. 

At the appointed time they attended in number sixty-four; a band of music was waiting in the
adjoining saloon, every thing was prepared for the ball: but the door of this saloon was shut,
and in order to enter, it was necessary to pass through a short and rather an obscure gallery.

An usher attended, who was to introduce all the candidates separately through this passage,
where each was left alone a few minutes, the king who was in the secret, had caused a vast number
of jewels, gold coins and valuable trinkets, to be disposed in the gallery: when the competitors
were assembled in the saloon, his majesty ordered them to dance. Never 

Never was dancing more heavily per formed, and with so little grace; they all hung down their
heads, their bodies were bent, and their arms and hands appeared as if glued to their sides.

What rogues, said the sage speaking softly, one only among them danced with agility, his face
erect, his looks confident, his arms extended, his body straight, his steps firm, ah! the honest
man, the brave man, said Nabussan. The king embraced this good dancer, and declared him to be
the receiver general, and all the others were punished and fined with great justice. For every
one of them, whilst in the gallery, had filled his pockets with such a heavy load, he could hardly
walk. The king was sorry for the sake of human nature, that among sixty-four dancers, there
should be sixty-three thieves. The gallery was afterwards called the Corridore of Temptation.
BOOK II. BOOK II. PRACTICAL PART. CHAPTER I. STEPS, POSITIONS AND ATTITUDES. 

But without further enquiry after matters that are now quite out of use, and consequently objects
of mere curiosity, let us examine the nature of modern dancing; for we must not imagine, with
the vulgar, that dancing consists of a jumble of freaks and gambols; the dance of people of education
express some idea, and it was said of some dancers, that "all their steps were sentiments."

In dancing there are to be distinguished the attitude of the body, the figure, the positions,
the bends, the risings, the steps, C5 the the slides, the turns of the body, and the cadences.
The attitude of the body requires the presenting of one's self in the most graceful manner to
the company. The figure is to follow the track prescribed to the steps in the dance; the positions
are those of the varied attitudes which must be at once striking and easy, as also of the different
exertions of the legs and feet in dancing; the bends are inflexions of the knees, of the body,
the head, or the arms; the risings are the contrasts to the bends, the extention of the knee,
one of these two motions necessarily precedes the other. 

The step is the motion by the foot or feet from one place to another. The leap is executed by springing
up into the air; it begins with a bend and proceeds with a quick extention of the legs, so that
both feet quit the ground. The cabriole is the crossing, or cutting during the leap, before
the return of of the feet to the ground, by the natural gravitation of the body. The slide is the
action of moving the foot along the ground without quitting it. The turn is the motion of the
body towards either side, or quite round. The cadence is the knowledge of the different measures,
and of the times of movement most marked in music. 

The regular figure is when two or more dancers move in contrary directions; ;that is to say,
when one moves towards the right, the other moves to the left. The irregular line is, when the
couples figuring together are both on the same side: commonly the man gives the right hand to
the lady in the beginning of any dance, but the contrary one is given in a country dance. When
a great number of dancers figure together, they are to execute the figure agreeable to the composition
of the dance, with special attention to keep an eye constantly stantly on their partner. Now
to observe the figure, the dancers must place themselves at the beginning of the track upon
which they are to dance, and comprehend the figure before they begin it: the couples must leave
a sufficient distance between them so as not to confuse the figure. 

There are commonly reckoned ten kinds of positions, which are divided into true and false,
five each. There are three principal parts of the foot to be observed, the toes, the heel, and
the ankle. The true positions are, when the two feet are in a certain uniform regularity, and
the toes turned equally outward. The false are divided into regular and irregular: they differ
from the true in that, the toes are either both turned inwards, or if the toes of one foot are turned
outwards, the others are turned inwards. In 

In the first of the true * positions, the heels of the two feet are close together, so that they
touch, the toes being turned out; in the second, the two feet are open in the same line, so that
the distance between the two heels is precisely the length of one foot; in the third, the heel
of one foot is brought to the ankle of the other, or seems to lock in with it; in the fourth, the
two feet are, the one before the other, at the distance of a foot between the two heels, which
are on the same line; in the fifth, the two feet are across, the one before the other, so that the
heel of one foot is directly opposite to the toes of the other. There are also mixed positions
composed of true and false, in combination which admit of such an infinite variety, and are
in their nature so unsusceptible of description by words, that it is only the the sight of the
performance that can give any tolerable idea of them. 

Of the bends of the knee, there are two kinds: the one simple, the other forced. The simple bend
is an inflexion of the knees without moving the heel, and is executed with the foot flat to the
ground. The forced bend is made on the toes with more force and lower. 

Much is to be observed on the head of steps, first; not to make any movement before having put
the body in an upright posture, as nothing appears more ungraceful and vulgar than the contrary.
The knees firm and straight, begin with the inflexion of the knee and thigh, advance one foot
foremost with the whole foot on the floor, laying the stress of the body on the advanced leg.
There are some who begin the step on the point of the toes, but that has an air of theatrical theatrical
affectation, which must be totally avoided in all kinds of dances in society. Nothing can be
more noble than a graceful ease and dignity of step. The quantity of steps used in dancing, are
almost innumerable, they are nevertheless reducible under five denominations, which may
serve to give a general idea of the different movements that may be made by the leg, viz. the direct
step, the open step, the circular step, the twisted step, and the cut step. The direct step,
is when the foot goes upon a right line, either backwards or forwards. The open step is when the
feet open; there are three kinds, one when they open outwards, another when they open outwards,
another when describing a kind of circle, they form an in-kneed figure: a third, when they open
sideways, this is a sort of right step, because the figure is in a right line. The round step is,
when the foot in its motion makes a circular figure either inwards or outwards. The twisted
step is, when the foot foot in its motion turns in and out. There are three kinds of this step,
one backwards, the other forwards, and the third sideways. The cut step is, when the leg or foot
seems to strike against the other, there are also three kinds of this step, backwards, forwards,
and sideways. The steps may be accompanied by bendings, risings, sliding the foot in the air,
the tip-toe, the rest on the heel, quarter turns, half turns, three quarter turns, and whole
turns. There may be practised three kinds of bends, or sinkings in the steps, viz. bending before
the step proceeds in the act of stepping, and the last of the step, the beginning or sink-pace
is at the first setting off, on advancing the leg: the rising is just the reverse of the bend or
sink pace which shall have preceded it. 

Theatric dancing consists, first of the performance of a single dancer, second of dances by
two, three, four &c. third of complete complete ballets, where the chief dancers sometimes
perform alone, and sometimes with the chorus of figure dancers, fourth a dance of two, three,
&c. with a pantomime ballet, by which is expressed, some fact in real or fabulous history, or
some other design by the dance and by gesture. They always distinguish, however, in the theatric
dancing, the high and the low, the noble and the graceful, and the serious dance, the high, the
grand and the low, the comic, the antic dance, the pantomime, &c. Every theatrical dancer should
apply himself to some particular rank of dancing, and there endeavour to excel according to
the extent of his talents. The high dance is susceptible of leaps or bounds, and of entre-chats,
or cuts of six or eight, the entre-chats, en tournant, the ail-de-pigeon, the gargulade and
many other high steps, which must be seen to be understood. CHAP. CHAPTER II. CHOICE OF MUSIC,
BODILY DEFECTS, &C. REMEDIED. 

A GOOD choice of music, is as essential to dancing, as the choice of words and the phraseology
of a speech is to eloquence. It is the tune and time of the music that fix and determine the motion
of the dancers, if the former be devoid of taste, the dance will be dull and unmeaning. 

As to performers and their personal qualifications, the first point to which it is directed
to pay attention when persons commence to learn to dance, at least as soon as they become capable
of reflection, is their bodily formation. If one be conscious of any personal defect which
can be reformed by application, study, or the advice and assistance. assistance of a judicious
master, then it seems an essential concern, quickly to exert every effort, before the parts
to be corrected have acquired strength and consistence, before nature has unalterably taken
her bent, and the errors become too habitual and inveterate. Among other personal defects,
there are two which deserve particular notice, the first is that of being in-kneed, the other
bow-legged, a person is said to be in-kneed, when the haunches are straight, and incline inwardly,
the thighs lie near and the knees are protuberant, and so close that they touch together at every
step, even when the feet are at a distance, so that such a person from the feet to the knees, makes
the figure of a triangle. In people of this formation, there is generally a clumsiness in the
inside of the ankle, and a great elevation in the instep. The other defect of being bow-legged,
is the opposite of the former, and exists in the same parts, namely, from the haunches to to the
feet, which describe a sort of bow or arch; for the haunches being in this case hollow, the thighs
and knees are at a distance and produce the same effect in the lower part of the limbs: so that
they never can be brought in proper contact like those of a well-shaped person. Their feet are
long and flat, the ankle juts out, a single view of these diametrically opposite defects, proves
more forcibly than any argument, that the instructions which might correct the errors of one,
of those defects would tend only to encrease the defects of the other, and that consequently
their aim and study, ought to be correspondently opposite. 

A person having the first defect, that of beingin-kneed, must use the means which art furnishes
him with, to widen the two closely connected parts. The first step to this end is to turn the thighs
outwardly, endeavouring to move them in that position, by taking advantage tage of the free
rotation which the thigh-bone has in the cavity of the haunches; assisted by this exercise,
the knees will follow the same direction and return as it were to their proper position. The
knee-pan which seems intended to prevent the knee from being thrown too far backwards from
its insertion, will stand perpendicularly over the point of the foot, while the thigh and leg
thus placed, describe a line that will insure firmness and stability to the whole body. 

Persons thus formed, should entirely renounce every kind of dance that requires whatever
whatever they lose on the score of strength they regain in elegance and address. They are luxuriant
and shining in the simplest parts, easy even in difficult ones, where no great efforts are required,
just in their execution, elegant in their display, and their spring is always exerted with
an infinity of grace, as they dexterously employ every resource which the motion of the instep
can give them. These are advantages, which atone for want of personal strength, and in dancing,
agility and address are always preferable to the mere efforts of force. 

the CHAP 

of the thigh; yet nothing is more natural to mankind than the contrary position. It is born with
us, it will be superfluous in establishing this truth, to cite for example, the Asiaticks,
the Africans, or any people who dance or rather leap and move without art or principle; if we
attend only to children, or the rustic inhabitants of the villages, we will see that they will
turn their toes inwardly. The other position is purely invention, and a proof far from equivocal
of this fault, being an imaginary one, is that a painter would transgress as much against nature,
as the rules of his art were he he to place the feet of his portrait in the situation of a dancer.

It is plain then that to dance elegantly, walk gracefully, or address with ease and manliness,
we must absolutely reverse the nature of things, and force our limbs by artificial applications,
to assume a very different situation from what they originally received. Such a change, however
necessary in this art, can only be accomplished by laying its foundation in the early stages
of infancy, when every muscle and bone is in a state of pliability, and capable of receiving
any direction which we chose to give them. 

The difficulty of attaining the outward position of the limbs is owing to our ignorance of the
proper arts to be employed. Most beginners persuade themselves that it is to be acquired by
forcing the feet to turn D outwards outwards, and though this part may readily take such a direction,
from their suppleness and being so easily moved, yet this method is so far false, as it tends
to displace the ankle-bones, and besides has not any effect upon either the knees or the thighs.

Neither is it possible to turn the knees outwardly without the assistance of the thigh, the
knees have only two motions, bending and extension, the one throwing the leg forwards, and
the other backwards, they have no power therefore of themselves to determine or assume an outward
position; but must eventually depend on the thigh, which entirely commands the lower parts
of the body, and turns them in consequence of its own rotatory motion. So that in fact, whatever
motion or position that takes, the knee, leg and foot are obliged to follow. It 

It has been maintained that a strong and nervous person ought to dance better than a slender
and weaker, but experience daily proves the contrary. We see many dancers who beat the time
with much strength and yet cannot spring to any perpendicular elevation. There are others
again, whose slender form renders their execution less bold, and rather elegant than forcible,
rather lively than nervous; but who can rise to an extraordinary height: it is to the shape and
formation of the foot, and to the length and elasticity of the tendons that this power of elevation
is originally owing. The knees, the loins and the arms, all co-operate in this action, the stronger
the pressure on the muscles, the greater is the re-action, and the spring and leap are proportionably
high. The alternate motion of the knees participate with those of the instep; the muscles of
the body lend their assistance, which preserves the body in a perpendicular direction: while
D2 the the arms, running imperceptibly to the mutual assistance of all the parts, serve as wings
to counter-balance the machine. 

Any kind of iron or wooden machine whatever, is dangerous and injurious to the limbs: the simplest
and most natural means, are those which reason and good sense ought to adopt, and of these, a
moderate but continual exercise is indispensable. The practice of a circular motion, or turning
of the legs both inwardly and outwardly, and of boldly beating at full extent from the knee,
is the only certain exercise to be preferred; it insensibly gives freedom, spring and pliancy,
while the motions acquired by using a machine, have more an air of constraint than of that liberty
and ease, which should shine conspicuous in them. CHAP. CHAPTER IV. ON THE DEPORTMENT OF THE
BODY. 

ART has furnished a substitute for nature, in the lessons of some excellent teachers, who have
convinced their pupils, that when once they forego an attention to the deportment of the body,
it is impossible to keep themselves in a right perpendicular line, and therefore all their
exertions would be devoid of taste; that wavering in this part would be inconsistent with perpendicularity
and firmness, and would certainly cause distortion of the shape and waist. The depressure
and sinking of the loins deprive the lower part of that liberty, which is necessary to their
ease and motion: hence the body undetermined in its positions, frequently drags the limbs
constantly constantly loses the centre of gravity, and therefore cannot recover an equilibrium,
but after various efforts and contortions totally repugnant to the graceful and harmonious
motions of good dancing. 

In order to dance well, the body should be firm and steady; it should particularly be motionless,
and free from wavering, while the legs are in exertion, for when the body follows the action
of the feet, it displays as many ungraceful motions as the legs execute different steps, the
performance is then robbed of its ease, uniformity, harmony, exactness, firmness, perpendicularity,
equilibrium, in a word, of all these beauties and graces which are so essential to make dancing
give pleasure and delight. 

Many dancers are of opinion, that to be soft and luxuriant, the knees must be bent very low, but
in this case they are, most certainly, mistaken; for a more than ordinary flexion of the knees,
gives rather a driness and insipidity to dancing; and dancers may be very inelegant, and jerk,
as it were, all their movements, as well in bending very low, as in not bending at all. The reason
will appear natural and evident, when we reflect that the time and motion of the dancer, are
strictly subordinate to the time and movements of the music; pursuing this principle, it is
not to be doubted, that when the flexions of the knees is greater than what the air or time of the
dancing requires, the measure then drawls along, languishes, and is lost. To recover and catch
again the time which this unnecessary flexion had destroyed, the extension of the knee must
be equally quick; and it is this sudden transition which gives such a harshness and sterility
to the execution, and renders it as disgustful, as the opposite fault of stiffness and and inflexibility.
That luxuriant softness requires more to it perfection, than merely an exact flexion and extension
of the knees; the spring of the instep must add its assistance, while the loins must balance
the body to preserve these movements in proper bounds. CHAP. CHAPTER V. ON KEEPING EXACT TIME
IN DANCING. 

THERE are many dancers, yet of an inferior class only, who can display a great variety of steps,
badly enough chosen and often executed without either judgment or taste. But it is very uncommon
to find among them, that exactness of ear, that rare, but innate talent of a dancer, which gives
life to, and stamps a value upon steps, and which diffuses over all such steps, a spirit that
animates and enlivens them. 

There are some ears, stupid and insensible even to the most simple, plain and striking movements;
there are others more cultivated and refined, that can feel and comprehend the measure, but
cannot seize its intricacies: and and there are others again, to whom the most difficult airs
and movements are easy and intelligible, and at once comprehended. It is nevertheless certain,
that dancers may have a very perfect and nice feeling, and yet not make their feelings intelligible,
if they have not the art of commanding these resources, which depend upon a proper exertion
of the coup-de-pied. Aukwardness becomes visible, where the exactest proportion was necessary,
and every step which would have been becoming, and have produced the happiest effect, smartly
introduced at the conclusion of the measure, will now be cold and lifeless, if all the limbs
are in motion at once. It requires more time to move the whole body, than to exert one single member,
the flexion and extension of the instep is more readily and quickly made, than the reciprocal
motion of all the joints. This principle allowed, that those dancers are destitute of precision,
who supposing they possess, a a musical ear, know not how to time their steps. The elasticity
of the instep, and the more or less active play of the muscles add to the natural sensibility
of the ear, and stamp value and brilliancy on the dance. The joint harmony of the springing from
the movements of the music and the motions of the dancer, captivate even those whose ears are
the most insensible and least susceptive of musical impressions. 

Dancing, probably, is no where varied to such a degree, as in the provinces of Germany, where
the well known dances of one village, are unknown in the adjacent hamlet. Their songs of mirth
and merriment have no less different airs and movements, though they are all marked with that
of gaiety. Their dances are pleasing and engaging, because the offspring of simple nature,
their motions express joy and pleasure, and the exactness with which the whole is performed,
gives a peculiar peculiar agreeableness to their steps, gestures and attitudes. 

A hundred persons assembled round an oak or some ancient pillar, seize the time at one instant,
bound up and descend with the same exactness. If they wish to mark the measure with a coup-de-pied,
all strike with one consent, or when they catch up their partners, you see them all in the air
at an equal height, nor do they descend but at the precise note that marks the time. Hence their
dances are so particularly animated, and the nicety of that organ, the ear, has the effect of
giving their different motions an air of gaiety and variety, altogether exquisite. 

Dancers, whose ears are untuned to harmony, display their steps without order or regularity,
wander from their part, and pursue the measure without being able to reach it; devoid of judgment,
their dancing has has neither sentiment nor expression; and the music which directs their
motions, regulates their steps, and guides their time, serves only to expose their imperfections
and insufficiency. The study of music should therefore be applied for the purpose of obviating
this defect, and giving more sensibility to the organ of hearing. CHAP. CHAPTER VI. ON THE CONNECTION
BETWEEN MUSIC AND DANCING, &c. 

WITH regard to the dance of society, the manner of it is very much altered in this country. Formerly,
for example, they danced cotillons, allemands, minuets and ballets; the modern practice
of dancing is confined to the reel, the country-dance and the * jig. It would appear quite unfashionable
to introduce any kind of cotillon-step in the present stile of dancing: a quick movement must
therefore be adopted, in order to accord in time with the rapidity of the music. A multiplicity
of steps or violent exertions must also be avoided, as they would only tend to fatigue the dancer,
render him him weak and incapable of continuing any length of time. 

It may, indeed, be easily supposed that the track or figure of a dance may be determined by written
or engraved lines; but these lines will necessarily appear so perplexing, so intricate, so
difficult, if not impossible to seize in their various relations, that they are only fit to
disgust and discourage, without the possibility of their conveying a satisfactory or retainable
instruction: thence originated choregraphy , which is the art of noting on paper the steps
and figure of a dance, by means of certain characters invented for that purpose, which are peculiar
to this art, and are adopted by the French and sometimes by the English, as I have seen in a late
publication of country dances called the "Treasures of Terpsichore," but which I think should
be universally exploded, as unintelligible and useless; though though nothing more than
an elementary indication of the art, or an explanation, such as it is, of some of the technical
terms of it. 

It will not be expected that I should proceed to give a description of all the intricacies and
combinations of steps, that are or can be executed in dancing, or enlarge on the mechanical
particulars of the art: a dissertation on the latter would be insipid and disgustful, for the
language of the feet and limbs, is addressed to the eyes, and not to the ears, and a detail of the
former would be endless, since every dancer has his peculiar manner of joining, or varying
the time. It may be sufficient, just to mention on this point, that it is in dancing as it is in
music, and with dancers, as with musicians. Dancing does not abound with more fundamental
steps than music with notes. But there are octaves, breves, semi- breves, breves, minums,
crotchets, double and treble crotchets, times to count, and measures to follow. This mixture,
however, of a small number of steps, and a few notes, furnishes us with a multitude of connections,
and a variety of figures. Taste and genius will always find a source of novelty in arranging
them in different manners; and to express various ideas, slow and lengthened, or quick and
precipitate steps, and the time correspondently varied give birth to this endless diversity.
CHAP. CHAPTER VII. REFLECTIONS ON THE MINUET, REEL, AND COUNTRY-DANCE. 

* THE minuet is allowed, by every professor of the art, to be the perfection of all dancing, but
the difficulty of acquiring a knowledge of the true beauties of it, has discouraged many from
attempting it. 

The ordinary, undulating motion of the body in common walking, (as may be plainly seen by the
waving line, which the shadow of a person's head makes against a wall, as he is walking between
it and the afternoon sun,) is augmented in dancing into a larger quantity of waving, by means
of the minuet-step, which is so contrived as to raise raise the body by gentle degrees, somewhat
higher than ordinary, and sink it again in the same manner, lower in the going on of the dance.
The figure of the minuet-path on the floor, is composed of serpentine lines, varying a little.
When the parties by means of this step rise and fall most smoothly in time, and free from sudden
starting and dropping, they come nearest to Shakespear's idea of the beauty of dancing in the
following lines. 

What you do, Still betters what is done, When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' th' sea, that you
might ever do Nothing but that, move still, still so And own no other function, 

WINTER'S TALE. 

The other beauties belonging to this dance are the turns of the head and twist of the body body
in passing each other; as also gentle bowing and presenting hands, all which together display
the greatest variety of movements, keeping equal pace with musical time. 

The figure, which a number of people together form in country or figure dancing, makes a delightful
play upon the eye, especially when the whole is to be seen at one view. The beauty of this kind
of mystic dance, (as the poets term it), depends upon moving in a composed variety of lines,
chiefly governed by the principles of intricacy, &c. 

One of the most pleasing movements in * reel or country dancing, and which answers all the principles
varying at once, is what they call the HAY. The figure of it altogether represents a number of
serpentine lines, interlacing or intervolving each other. Milton 

Milton, in his Paradise Lost, describing the Angels dancing about the sacred hill, pictures
the whole idea in words, 

Mystical Dance, Mazes intricate, 

Excentric, intervolved, yet regular Then most, when most irregular they seem. CHAP. CHAPTER
VIII. ON AUKWARDNESS AN AFFECTATION, AS TO THE DEPORTMENT OF THE BODY. 

THERE is no one but would wish to have it in Iris power to be genteel and graceful in the carriage
of his person, could it be attained with little trouble and expense of time. The usual methods
relied on for this purpose, among well-bred people, take up a considerable part of their time:
nay, even those of the first rank have no other resource in these matters than to dancing masters.

Dancing undoubtedly is a very necessary accomplishment, and frequently very effectual in
bringing about the business of graceful deportment; for the muscles of the body attain attain
a pliancy by this exercise, and the limbs, by the elegant movements in dancing, acquire both
facility and grace: yet so few masters are capable of conveying instructions in this respect,
for want of knowing the meaning of every grace, and whereon the beauty of it depends, that affectation
and misapplications often follow. People who would wish to be elegant in their manner, and
graceful in their persons, should avoid, as much as possible, every attitude that is constrained
or affected; such as a stiff deportment of the body, a constant scraping and bowing on every
occasion, viewing of the person, adjusting the dress, in walking turning out the feet too much,
or an affected jirk of the body either one side or the other, or springing on the toes, all these
movements are inconsistent with true ease and elegance. The step of a lady or gentlemen should
be firm and steady, laying the entire foot on the ground, the arms falling gracefully from the
shoulders, and and the body in an easy and unaffected position. 

What can be more conducive to that freedom and necessary courage, which make acquired grace
seem easy and natural, than being able to demonstrate, when we are actually just and proper
in the least movement we perform. Whereas for want of such certainty in the mind, we appear stiff,
narrow and aukward, particularly when we appear before our superiors. 

The pleasing effect of moving the hand is seen, when presenting a card, letter or fan, gracefully
or genteely to a lady, both in the hand moving forward and in its return. The hand must be waved
in a serpentine line, but care must be taken that the line of movement be but gentle, and not two
S like and twirling, which excess would be affected and ridiculous. Daily practising these
these movements with the hands, and at the same time, a gentle inflexion of the body, will in
a short time render the person graceful and easy. 

As to the motions of the head, the awe most children are in before strangers, till they come to
a certain age, is the cause of their dropping and drawing their chins down into their breasts,
and looking under their foreheads, as if conscious of their own weakness, or of something wrong
about them. To prevent this aukward shyness, parents and tutors are continually teasing them
to hold up their heads, which if they get them to do, it is with difficulty, and of course in so
constrained a manner, that it gives the children pain, so that they naturally take all opportunities
of easing themselves, by holding down their heads, which posture would be full as uneasy to
them, were it no a relief from restraint. And there is another E misfortune misfortune in holding
down the head, as k is apt to make them bend too much in the back; when this happens to be the case,
they then have recourse to steel-collars and other iron machines; but in my opinion, it would
answer the purpose much better by fastening a ribbon to a quantity of plaited hair, or round
the forehead, so as it may be kept fast in its place, and the other end to the back of the frock,
of such a length as may prevent them from drawing their chins into their necks, which ribbon
will always leave the head at liberty to move in any direction except this aukward one they are
so apt to fall into. 

But until children arrive at a reasoning age, it will be difficult by any means, to teach them
more grace than what is natural to every wall made child, The 

The graceful deportment of the upper part of the body is most engaging, and sensible well-made
children easily acquire it, therefore rules that are difficult to practice, are of little
use, nay, rather of disservice. 

Holding the head erect is but occasionally right, a proper inclination of it may be as graceful,
but true elegance is mostly seen in moving it from one position to another. CHAP. CHAPTER IX.
ON GRACEFUL MOVEMENTS IN BOWING, COURTESYING AND ADDRESSING. 

THE most graceful bow, on entering a room, is made by a gentle inflexion of the body, at the same
time sliding the foot forward, with the arms falling carelessly before, and as the body rises,
the arms will fall of course into their natural position. 

Some aukward imitators of this elegant way of bowing, for want of knowing the true method, seem
to bow with wry necks. In the low solemn bow to majesty, it should have but a very little twist,
if any, as more becoming gravity and submission. The clownish nod, in a sudden straight line,
is quite the reverse of these spoken of. The 

The most elegant and respectful courtesy, hath a gentle or small degree of the above graceful
bowing of the head, as the person sinks, rises and retreats. On entering a room the foot should
slide gently forward, with a graceful inflexion of the knees, at the same time turning the head
over either shoulder, according as the company are arranged. On retiring, the foot is to slide
backwards, with the whole foot on the floor, at the same time sinking as described above on entering.
If it should be said, that a fine courtesy consists in no more than in being erect in person, at
the time of sinking and rising, an automaton figure must be allowed to make as good a courtesy
as any one. 

It is necessary in bowing and courtesying to shun an exact sameness at all times, for however
graceful it may be on some occasions, at other times it may seem formal and improper. Shakespeare
seems to have meant meant this ornamental manner of bowing, in Enobarbus's description of
Cleopatra's waiting woman, 

"And made their bends adomings." ACT II. 

Dancing can be learned only by practice, by the aid of a good master, and by imitating those excellent
dancers who are to be met with in the great world. They who would wish to dance gracefully, should
take particular care in their youth, not to contract any bad habits, any steps or attitudes
that are aukward constrained or affected. In the last place, Dancing is a matter of agility,
an exercise that requires natural talents, which are called forth and cultivated by an able
master, and who at the same time that he teaches his art, enables his pupils to deport themselves
in society, with ease, with dignity and with grace. A POEM ON THE ART OF DANCING. CANTO I. 

IN the smooth dance, to move with graceful mien, Easy with care, aria sprightly though serene,
To mark th' instructions echoing strains convey, And with just steps each tuneful note obey,
I teach. Be present all ye sacred choir, Blow the soft flute and strike the sounding lyre? 

Hail, loveliest art, that can'st all hearts ensnare, And make the fairest still appear more
fair, Beauty can little execution do, Unless she borrows half her arms from you; Few, like Pygmalion,
doat on lifeless charms, Or care to clasp a statue in their arms. A 

A Venus, drawn by great Apelles' hand, May for a while our wond'ring eyes command, But still
though formed with all the powers of art The lifeless piece can never warm the heart; So a fair
nymph, perhaps, may please the eye, While all her beauteous limbs unactive lie, But when her
charms are in the dance display'd, Then ev'ry heart adores the lovely maid, This sets her beauty
in the fairest light, And shows each grace in full perfection bright: Then as she turns around,
from ev'ry part, Like porcupines, she sends a piercing dart; In vain, alas! the fond spectator
tries To shun the pleasing dangers of her eyes, For Parthian like, She wounds as sure behind
With flowing curls, and ivory neck reclined; Whether her steps the Minuet's mazes trace, Or
the slow Louvre's more majestic pace, Whether the rigadoon employs her care, Or sprightly
Jigg displays, the nimble fair; At every step new beauties we explore, And worship now what
we admired before. 

Now haste, my Mnse, pursue the destin'd way, What dresses best become the dancer? say? The The
rules of dress forget not to impart, A lesson previous to the dancing art, The soldier's scarlet
glowing from a far, Shows that his bloody occupation's war; Whilst the lawn-band beneath the
double chin, As plainly speaks divinity within; The milk-maid safe through driving rains
and snows, Wrapp'd in her cloak and propp'd on pattens goes; The woolly drab, and Irish broad-cloth
warm, Guard well the horseman from the beating storm, But load the dancer with too great a weight,
And call from ev'ry pore the dewy sweat. Rather let him, his active limbs display, In Irish silk
or glossy Paduasoy: Let no unwieldy pride his shoulders press, But airy, light and easy be his
dress; Thin be his yielding sole, and low his heel, So shall he nimbly bound and safely wheel.
And now, ye youthful fair, I sing to you, With pleasing smiles my youthful labors view; For you,
the slik-worm's fine-wrought webs display, And laboring, spin their little lives away, For
you bright gems with radiant colours glow, Fair as the dyes that paint the heavenly bow, For
For you the sea resigns its pearly store, And earth unlocks her mines of treasured ore; In vain
yet nature thus her gifts bestows Unless yourselves with art those gifts dispose. CANTO CANTO
II. 

NOW see, prepar'd to lead the sprightly dance, The lovely nymphs and well-dressed youths advance,
The spacious room receives its jovial guest, And the floor shakes with pleasing weight opprest:
Thick ranged on ev'ry side with various dyes The fair in glossy silks our sight surprise; So
in a garden, bath'd with genial show'rs, A thousand sorts of variegated flow'rs, Jonquils,
carnations, pinks and tulips rise, And in a gay confusion charm our eyes. 

High o'er their heads with num'rous candles bright, Large sconces shed their sparkling beams
of light; Their sparkling beams, that still more brilliant glow Reflecting back from gems
and eyes below Unnumber'd fans to coal the crowded fair With breathing zephyrs, move the circling
air: The sprightly fiddle and the sounding lyre, Each youthful breast with gen'rous warmth
inspire; Fraught with all joys the blissful moments fly, Whilst music melts the car and beauty
charms the eye. Now 

Now let the youth, to whose superior place It first belongs the splendid ball to grace, With
humble bow, and ready hand prepare, Forth from the crowd to lead his chosen fair; The fair shall
not his kind request deny, But to the pleasing toil with equal ardour fly. 

But stay, rash pair, nor yet untaught, advance, First hear the Muse, ere you attempt to dance;
By art directed o'er the foaming tide, Secure from rocks the painted vessels glide; By art the
chariot scours the dusty plain, Springs at the whip and hears the strait'ning rein. 

To art our bodies must obedient prove, If e'er we hope with graceful ease to move, Long was the
dancing art unfix'd and free, Hence lost in error and uncertainty; No precepts did it mind or
rules obey, But every Master taught a different way; Hence ere each new born dance was fully
try'd, The lovely product ev'n in blooming dy'd, Through various hands in wild confusion tost,
Its steps were altered mad its beauties tost; Hence Hence o'er the world this pleasing art shall
spread, And every dance in ev'ry clime be read, By distant masters shall each step be seen, Though
mountains rise and oceans roar between; Hence with her sister arts, shall Dancing claim An
equal right to universal fame; And Irish jiggs and reels shall live as long As Raphael's paintings
or as Virgil's song. 

Would you in dancing ev'ry fault avoid, To keep true time be first your thoughts employ'd, All
other errors they in vain shall mend, Who in this one important point offend; For this when now
united hand in hand, Eager to start, the youthful couple stand, Let them a while their nimble
feet restrain, And with soft taps beat time to every strain, So for the lace prepar'd two coursers
stand, And with impatient pawing spurn the sand. 

True dancing, like true wit, is best exprest, By nature only to advantage drest, 'Tis not a nimble
bound or caper high That can pretend to please a curious eye, Good Good judges no such tumbler's
trick regard, Or think them beautiful, be cause they're hard. 'Tis not enough that ev'ry stander
by No glaring errors in your steps can spy, The dance and music must so nicely meet, Each note
should seem an echo to your feet. 

Now when the minute, oft repeated o'er, (Like all terrestrial joys) can please no more, And
ev'ry nymph, refusing to expand Her charms, declines the circulating hand, Then let the jovial
country dance begin, And the loud fiddles call each straggler in, Quick busy hands and bridling
heads declare The fond impatience of the starting fair; And see, the sprightly dance is now
begun, Now here, now there, the giddy maze they run, Now with slow steps they pace the circling
ring, Now all confus'd, too swift for sight, they spring; So in a wheel, with rapid fury tost,
The undistinguish'd spokes are in the motion lost. 

The dancer here no more requires a guide, To no strict steps his nimble feet are ty'd; The The
muses' precepts here would useless be, Where all is fancy'd, unconfin'd, and free; Let him
but to the music's voice attend, By this instructed, he can ne'er offend; If to his share it falls
the dance to lead, In well known paths he may be sure to tread; If others lead, let him their motions
view, And in their steps the winding maze pursue. 

Where can philosophers and sages wise, Who read the curious volumes of the skies, A model more
exact than dancing name Of the creation's universal frame? Where worlds un-number'd o'er
the etherial way, In a bright regular confusion stray; Now here, now there they whirl along
the sky, Now near approach and now far distant fly, Now meet in the same order they begun, And
then the great celestial dance is done. 

Thus through each precept of the dancing art, The Muse has play'd the kind instructor's part,
Through ev'ry maze her pupils she has led And pointed out the surest paths to tread; No No more
remains, no more the goddess sings, But drops her pinions and unfurls her wings. On downy beds
the weary dancers lie And sleep's silk cords tie down each drowsy eye; Delightful dreams their
pleasing sports restore And ev'a in sleep they seem to dance once more. 

And now the work, completely finished, lies; Which the devouring teeth of time defies As long
as nymphs shall with attentive ear, A fiddle rather than a sermon hear, So long the brightest
eyes shall oft peruse These useful lines of my instructive muse; Each Belle shall wear them
written on her fan, And each bright Beau shall read them, if he can. JENYNS.