THE DANCIAD; OR, DANCER'S MONITOR 

Being a descriptive Sketch in Verse on the different Styles and Methods of dancing Quadrilles,
Waltzes, Country Dances, &c. &c. as practised at various Public Balls and Assemblies; also
on the Pretensions of certain Professors and Teachers of Dancing to that Title; on the Mode
of Admission to, and of conducting various Places, termed Academies for Dancing; likewise
On the Nature and Quality of what are frequently called Grand, Free, Select, Fancy Dress, Friendly,
Characteristic, Charity, and Dress Balls. 

TOGETHER WITH Observations on the Laws regarding Dancing, with Extracts from the Acts of Parliament
relating thereto. 

BY THOMAS WILSON, Teacher of Dancing, From the King's Theatre, Opera House: Author of various
Works on Dancing, and several Dramatic Pieces. 

London: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, AT HIS ACADEMY FOR DANCING, 18, KIRBY STREET, HATTON GARDEN;
Where may be had all his Publications. 

1824. 

V. Slater, Printer , 1, Newton Street, High Holborn . DEDICATION. 

TO TEACHERS OF MERIT, (PARTICULARLY THOSE AT WHOSE REQUEST THE DANCIAD WAS COMPOSED, AND WHO
ARE MOST CAPABLE OF DECIDING HOW FAR THE AUTHOR HAS DONE JUSTICE TO THE SUBJECT) 

HE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATES THIS WORK, 

Academy of Dancing, 3, Kirby Street, Hatton Garden . 

7th June 1824 . PREFACE. 

The Danciad is founded on a dramatic prelude to the Author's 89th Public Ball , held the 30th
October 1822 (when the characters were represented by himself and three of his pupils * ) being
intended as a descriptive sketch on the present state of ball-room dancing teachers and professors
of dancing, academies, public balls, &c. &c. 

The sketch being approved, was afterwards shown, in manuscript, to several eminent teachers,
who strongly advised the author to continue the subject; as the various puffs and delusive
advertisements of certain persons styling themselves "Professors of Dancing" tended to
bring even the art itself into disrepute, and loudly called for exposure and reprehension;
however, what was every body's business was no-body's; though all continued to complain of
injuries sustained in consequence of such practices, yet none attempted to draw on them the
attention of the public * . The author was therefore urged to continue and extend his sketch;
he in vain represented the difficulty of making it into a poem without new-modelling the subject,
a task that he had neither time nor ability to execute. It was replied, that regularity of form
was not regarded by them. "Go on (they exclaimed) we care not about form," and to their suggestion
he yielded. 

So the author endeavoured to take up the cause By exposing mean tricks and explaining the laws;
To caution the public against some impostors, Those self-named "Professors" 'yclept Dancing
Masters. How the task is performed, must be judged of by those Who well know the art, and such
quackery oppose: 

He has now explained his motives for writing, and the circumstances which gave rise to this
little work, the object of which is to investigate the merits and claims of certain professors
and teachers of dancing to that title ; to expose the delusive tricks and stratagems employed
to obtain pupils ; also to explain the mode of admission to, and method of conducting certain
rooms termed " Academies for Dancing," and to show the nature and quality of what are frequently
called "Grand, Select, Characteristic, Friendly, Dress, Free, Subscription, and Charity
Balls; likewise to enable teachers and the public Clearly to understand the laws relative
to dancing, which are stated very fully in the work, and are also copied in the notes verbatim;
from the act of parliament. 

Tho' he narrates in verse, no modern poet Deals less in fiction-(he has proofs to show if ;) If,
circumstances should give room for doubt, He trusts his documents will bear him out, And show
'tis not invention, nor from spleen, But what exists, has been, or may be seen. 

He is aware that the Danciad, in its present form, is not either a satyric poem or a dramatic piece;
but, 

Regardless what the world may say, He has wrote the Danciad his own way. Has neither kept to rhyme
nor rules, Nor tacked himself to ancient schools; But has, like Tristram Shandy gone Into digressions
wide and long; From East to West, has breathless run, Then sauntered back where he began, Knowing
sometimes variety Excuses impropriety; If readers ask the reason why He didn't with usual
forms comply, His motives were for running riot, To caution rogues and make fools quiet. 

Should his attempt succeed, it will be some consolation risking the censure of critics, for
having deviated from established rules, but which, from the peculiar nature of the work, he
considered it was sometimes necessary ; and that usual methods would have been ineffectual
in exposing those sharks who have too long remained undiscovered, feasting on the silly gudgeons
which come in their way. 

Independent of the author's own knowledge on the subject, he has been supplied, during the
progress of the work, through the medium of several professional persons, with accounts of
various stratagems and devices of those selfcreated, self-entitled "Professors" till then
unknown to him; and still 

There's some, who're not to justice yet been brought, Who've sinned for years, but never have
been caught, But are well known, and cautioned to desist, As they'll be closely watched, should
they persist. 

He has withheld, for the present, the names of the parties alluded to; but, if he has not been
sufficiently explicit, he must, in a future edition, be obliged, like a bad painter, to write
the name at bottom. 

The Author yet, has not disclosed the name Of those in fault, howe'er they've been to blame;
But should they think that their true picture's shown, And that they see a face just like their
own, He grants to those, and all the cap may fit, His full permission now for wearing it. 

But although he has refrained from naming the parties, yet, he trusts they will be easily discovered
by their condemnation of the work and abuse of the Author; for like the creaking wheel in the
fable, it is very natural for them to cry out under affliction. 

If he's condemned by those he meant to hit, 'Twill he a proof he has made his caps to fit, For when
fools bark, and rogues begin to cry, There is a proof that retribution's nigh. 

It is hoped the notes will show he has not taken up the subject without sufficient grounds for
his assertions, for which he has ample confirmation, having in his possession most of the cards,
bills, and advertisements issued by the parties. 

He has entirely abstained from allusions to family circumstances, and personal misfortunes
which ought never to be the subject of ridicule, although they have been, too frequently, to
the disgrace of some of our best authors; and perhaps he might in some measure have been justified
in retaliating even personalities, after the illiberality of certain parties, and he can
affirm without fear of contradiction, that 

He's uninfluenced, aids no partial cause, Nor strives to censure, to obtain applause. 

The Author's motives for this publication will probably be attributed to various causes;
some persons will accuse him of self-interest, but he is quite convinced, if they had published
as much, and as variously us he has, they would acquit him of that charge * . Books published by
a humble individual (not a bookseller) seldom pay even for paper and printing, much less any
remuneration for authorship; he forms this opinion from his own experience, believing it
to be well known that 

The author has, on dancing, published more Than any teacher ever did before. His works, though
praised by teachers of renown, And bought by half the masters in the town, Have never yet enabled
him to dine On sumptuous viands, nor with Tokay wine To treat his friends, and toast the sacred
nine: He therefore fears his time's been badly spent. They ride who bought, he walks who did
invent; And like some authors, printed to his cost, Has time, and labour, and invention lost,
And had his brightest prospects often crossed: Yet, with this consolation, wrote again, That
all great authors of the like complain; For works of merit do not always sell, And this sad truth
even Milton once could tell. The drama next he was resolved to try, And for the stage, strove
something to supply; To this was prompted, as he'd heard it said, A thousand pounds for many
a piece was paid; So he resolved to try with prose and rhyme, And strove to keep the unities of
time, And printed too, did all within his power, And fondly hoped to catch the golden shower,
To fill his coffers and extend his name, But that long looked-for shower never came, Like many
authors, now, of self renown, Curses the taste and judgment of the town; Yet still writes on,
and, for excuse, pretends He only writes to serve and please his friends, And has resolved another
course to take, To try if he can't reparation make For loss in writing for the ball and stage,
By lashing some impostors of the age. This to effect, he now to satire flies, And runs to Pope
and Byron for supplies; For good examples, and what words to chuse, And also how, and when, and
where to use Triplets, digressions, and a clenching line, That in itself doth sound and sense
combine, He reads them over, steals a line or so, His verse to strengthen, and his powers to show,
But hopes the critics and the world won't know. At dancing masters he has bent his aim, But only
those who have assumed the name. Some time ago, he warned them to desist, Or he'd expose such
plans as did exist To trick the public; but they still persist, And treat the author's warnings
with a sneer, And cry "From such a wight there's nought to fear. His book will neither sell nor
read, but soon Make paper lanthorns to assist the moon." Should this take place, there's few
with hopes of gain Would go his halves, and satisfied remain. 

He therefore fears that the present edition will be the Alpha and Omega of the Danciad, unless
some of the professors alluded to should recognize their own likenesses, and reply, thereby
furnishing the author with new materials for another edition, in which he may probably be obliged
to unmask some of those characters; but, 

Till they become the personal aggressors, He'll hide real names, and only use "professors."

Should these predictions be fulfilled, (as perhaps they may,) no profit will accrue to him
from the present publication. 

With these apprehensions, he has printed only a very small edition, as his greatest expectations
as to the sale do not extend beyond supplying his subscribers, and disposing of a few copies
to those persons who may expect to see, in this work, the old adage verified, which says, 

"There's always rare sport (and with this hope will buy) "To see a goose dance, and a fool versify."

Nor has he the expectation of a dedication fee. As the Danciad comes forth, without being dedicated,
as usual, to a rich and noble patron, which is not, however, omitted in consequence of the author
being too rich to refuse the fee, nor would his readers be easily persuaded he was induced to
reject it on the score of independence, as 

The threadbare author, who, in sounding verse, Makes light of thousands, seldom has in purse
Enough of current cola to answer all 'The rude demands of those who chance to call, And free his
door from those alarming knocks Which give poetic ears such dreadful shocks; Or make the bard,
for virtue's sake, disdain The great to flatter, for the hope of gain. 

He fears his purse will not be the only sufferer, by the omission of a suitable dedication to
some rich and noble patron, but that the public will never, in any other way, hear of the very
extraordinary virtues and acquirements that such a patron must of course possess. Therefore,

This may deprive the world of something they Could never hear of any other way, How his great
patron was for wisdom famed, Whose modest virtues all the town proclaim'd; Whose genius, talents,
and acquirements, were Quite super human, and beyond compare: Such skill in arts and learning
all confess None but rich patrons ever can possess. 

The Author can assure the Public, that he did not withhold the dedication, nor dispense with
the fee, in order to be revenged on the rich, for retaining all the money, and leaving him none,
although he is often declaiming in defence of virtuous poverty; but the truth is, that he quite
despaired of ever finding so kind and liberal a patron, having heard that 

Poets too oft, for want of bread, not fame, To gain a patron, have extolled his name; But, after
sacrificing truth and time, Have often found that neither prose nor rhyme Could gain the bard
the dedication fee, The patron was so mean or dull, that he The author's merit would or could
not see. To gain a fee the author has no hope, For dedication fees expired with Pope * . He therefore
dedicates his piece to those Some of whom were and still may be his foes. He has been told 'tis
prudent to be civil, And sometimes hold a candle to the Devil. 

Not only has the author been without a rich patron and a dedication fee, but he has never received
any pecuniary assistance from his subscribers in the publication of this work, the conditions
being not to pay till delivery, and the price only 5s, whatever may be the size or extent of the
book; beyond which he has only this forlorn hope, as 

His subscribers belong to the family race Of the Capers , well known for their figures and grace
, Who he hopes are too proud and too rich to abuse A very good custom subscribers did use, When
the copy's presented, the change to refuse. 

This expectation, he fears, is only one of the poet's golden dreams, which perhaps will never
be realized. Others, though they may not think authorship very profitable, would yet accuse
him of motives of vanity; but he trusts that the following declaration will exonerate him from
that charge, for 

He is not yet quite vain enough to give A card address to where he does not live; Nor boast of plenty,
when the mice can show For want they left his cupboard long ago; Nor talk of dinners which he never
ate, Nor run in debt to give a foolish treat; Nor vain enough, when he does hunger feel, To fast,
because the hour is not genteel, Nor for the fashion to be starved alive, But eats at twelve,
and will not wait till five. He's not ashamed to own he wanted pelf, Nor envies dancers better
than himself; Is not abash'd a former friend to meet, Because they knew each other in the Fleet.
He boasts no conquests which he never made, Disowns no friends because they live by trade; Nor
brags of means when be does hardly know Which way to turn, to 'scape from Richard Roe. 

Although, after making this declaration, the author might be acquitted of either interest
or vanity, yet there are some who might perhaps attribute this work to splenetic motives; but
this he can affirm, (and, like many other authors, hopes to be believed too,) that spleen has
not in the least influenced him, not having any individual pique or personal animosity against
any person alluded to in the work, only that natural indignation excited by the conduct of those
who have resorted to the various deceptive tricks and unfair practices complained of, but
must confess he cannot say quite so much for himself on the score of envy, as 

He envies those who can for nothing give Both time and dancing, yet like princes live; And all
those teachers who have the art to show Their pupils dances, which themselves don't know; And
those who to a lesson can foretell, (Be who they may) when pupils call dance well; And those who've
had " machines * for waltzing made, To teach the art without a master's aid ;" And some great teachers,
who do scarce know how To teach the chassee , or to make the bow Who never drudged for excellence
or fame, Yet notwithstanding have acquired a name, And keep a carriage, live in great repute,
Whilst talent walks, and in a threadbare suit And those " who've lately brought to light an art
That common teachers never can impart ." He envies those who any dance can take, And in six lessons
perfect pupils make , And conscientiously to them can say, "You now dance well, can ease and
grace display." 

These and the several other super-human acquirements said to be possessed by certain professors
of dancing, have excited the author's envy. In his defence, the calls on those eminent teachers
who know the fallibility of human nature, to read these extraordinary professions, and then
say whether they do not also envy those great professors such rare qualifications, and to this
subject he particularly intreats the attention of eminent foreign dancers, who have so long
laughed at our want of genius in the art of dancing. 

Read this, ye Opera principals, and own. Is not your system now defective grown? They perfect
dancers make before you know The five positions, or can point the toe. Tell Gallia's sons, John
Bull's now learnt to dance, Has got new methods, and can vie with France. 

The Author's further remarks and opinions on these matters must be reserved for another place,
as he finds he has already terribly digressed, for which he offers the following apology: 

Now, with critics a truce, For he has an excuse, Having seen near a score Who have done so before.
Some are authors of note Whose names he could quote, Whose books, by confession, Are all a digression.
You'll find Sterne and Swift Gave digressions a lift; And in Byron 'tis found That they often
abound; Yet most will agree, That his like they can't see. If you say this excuse Will be here
of no use, Perhaps there's one more That will outweigh a score, Which you must confess, If you
reason possess. It is this: we are frail, And our foibles prevail For Dame Nature, we find, To
our faults makes us blind. So the critics have said Of great Milton * that's dead. 

Should neither precedents nor apologies prevail-with some critics, who think 

He must jog on the usual way And neither look aside nor stray, Whate'er the prospect may present,
But keep the road that others went. Yet he has risked their indignation, And followed his own
inclination, And often runs through thorns and briars, T' expose impostors, rogues, fools,
and liars. 

That an author is not the best judge of his own performance, is generally admitted: whether
the digressions into which the Author of the Danciad has been led are justifiable or not, and
with what portion of ability he has executed the task assigned to him, he presumes not to determine;
but, whatever opinion his readers may form on that subject, he at least hopes to be acquitted
of unworthy motives. In yielding to the request of his subscribers, he has been influenced
only by the wish of guarding the public against impositions, and of rescuing the honourable
part of the profession from sharing in the odium that ought not to be indiscriminately attached.
With such patrons and encouragers of his work, it may be doubted, whether he can say, like others,
"he was prompted to the undertaking by the advice of his friends , for the old adage says, "two
of a trade," &c. 

He also hopes the unpoetical diction, as well as the want of smoothness in some of the lines,
will be excused, the subject being rather argumentative than poetical, and the work abounding
with technical terms and expressions, and it being requisite to quote, as closely as possibly,
not only the modes of expression in particular advertisements, bills, and cards, but even
clauses of the act of parliament relative to dancing. 

The critics, he hopes, will remember 'twas writ By a dancer, and they are not famed for their
wit. Of the truth of this axiom to all he appeals, Per their merit, 'tis said, mostly lies in their
heels And by one who has neither much leisure nor pelf, Who, when pupils apply, gives the lesson
himself. If the author in triplets does largely abound, In Pope and in Dryden they're plentiful
found; And even great Johnson advises their use, "Till, we've got something better we can introduce;"
And, should you dispute that they judgment did lack, You'll have Gifford, Southey, and Moore
on your back; So, be how it may, if its merits are tried, He has authors and poets of note on his
side, Who are known for their zeal, and whole volumes would write. In case of dispute, to prove
themselves right, Should his subject and sentences end rather rude, Should his triplets not
always the sentence conclude, Should his verse sometimes hobble and periods seem crude, He
says, for excuse, that his subject's not epic, But argumentative, and partly dramatic, And
hopes that this reason will weigh with the critic. 

But it may, perhaps, be said that this apology might have been spared, had the Author engaged
some able versifier to round his periods and correct his numbers, who certainly might have
amended the poetry; but a technical knowledge of the subject was also indispensably necessary,
as it appears was once experienced by Hogarth the artist, in his " Analysis of Beauty " who slates
that he at first availed himself of the assistance of a literary friend, who not having a technical
knowledge of drawing and painting, made rather an elegant literary disquisition than a scientific
and technical treatise, and the artist was consequently compelled afterwards to write the
work himself. 

The Author of the following lines has, therefore, used his own mode, and if he has egregiously
sinned against the rules of rhyme and reason, must in his turn expect to be subject, like others,
both to reprehension and neglect. 

Though the opening of the Danciad may be said to be on the subject of jealousy, and perhaps appear
irrelevant to the object of the work, the original form has be en retained, as leading to other
matters, and is now entitled, "the Introduction;" and though the imitations of the various
styles and methods of dancing quadrilles, waltzes, reels, and country dances, cannot of course
be properly explained, but by representation; yet, in order to preserve the form of the original
sketch, he has retained the part where such imitations were introduced. The Laws relative
to Dancing , the Subject of Public Balls , and above half that portion which is under the head
of " Professors of Dancing ;" were not in the original sketch, but, with various other alterations
and additions, have been subsequently introduced. 

It may be necessary to remark, that many circumstances appertaining to the same party are sometimes
given in different places: this has arisen from their having partly transpired whilst the
work was printing. 

He fears the work will not please the critics the subject being not only limited but technical:
however, should it satisfy those for whom it was written, he shall consider himself fortunate;
and should it not, after his best endeavours, meet their expectation, they will recollect
it was their approval of a portion of the work that induced him to finish it. 

He also apprehends, that it may not please a respectable portion of the profession, who, though
feeling the justice of the remarks, and assured they apply not to themselves, would yet be unwilling
to concur in such sentiments, lest they should offend their visiting acquaintances, as 

There may be truth, too strong, perhaps, for those Who only tacitly such tricks oppose. But
he speaks boldly, hides no faults for gain, And cares not if impostors should complain. Alike
to him their censure or applause; He hopes with justice to maintain his cause. Though on him
hurl'd Ernulphus's dread curse * , If he's traduced or slandered, which is worse. Though this
should happen, he will not desist, But will expose impostors who persist. He'll not be neutral,
but will speak his mind, Regardless if he friends or foes may find. 

Notwithstanding which, he is, however, quite Willing to submit with deference to candid public
opinion: yet 

He'll not be quietly condemned by fools, Or coster-monger teachers, or their tools, But will
reply, ay, o'er and o'er again, And prove he has grounds and reason to complain. Yet to be judged
will willingly submit, By those who have candour, judgment, taste, and wit; And such as can
the subject comprehend, And know the cause he labours to defend. If those condemn him, then
he'll not complain, But either mend, or never write again. 

The author fears, that with apologies, comparisons, defences, confessions, allusions,
digressions, quotations, and invocations, both in prose and verse, he must, by this time,
have tired his readers: he will therefore detain them no longer, 

Ending his preface with this exclamation To teachers and all pupils in the nation: "Let dancing-masters
now draw near, "I'll whisper something in their ear, "That shall to some be recreation, "To
others dire abomination. "Let those who've both cheap dancing dear, "(Pupils I mean) let them
draw near, "And watch the shadows as they pass, " And see their likeness in the glass." 

T. W. 

Academy for Dancing, Kirby Street, Hatton Garden, 7th June , 1824. THE DANCIAD; OR, DANCER'S
MONITOR. CHARACTERS: 

BELINDA. 

JEMIMA. 

AUNT FRUMP. 

LUCY, (A SERVANT.) 

CHASSEE, (A DANCING-MASTER.) 

SCENE.- A Parlour at -'s Assembly Rooms . 

Enter Lucy , shewing in Belinda , disguised as an Old Woman . 

Lucy . 

This way Madam,-this way,-pray walk in, At nine, the Ball will certainly begin. 

Bel . It's now past eight-I think my watch is right, Do you expect much company here to-night?

Lucy . We've plenty of fine ladies and smart beaux, Mostly pupils, and those that Master knows.

Bel . I hope they'll not be late, for, I must own, I am melancholy when I am left alone. 

Lucy . There's several ladies, dressing down below, Three of them came at least an hour ago:
B When I looked out just now I several more In coaches saw. ( Knocking heard .) I hear them at the
door. 

( Going to the door .) 

Bel , if that should my niece Frolic chance to be, Say her aunt's here, and shew her into me. 

( Knocking again heard. Lucy going .) 

Here, Lucy, stop, I've something more to say. 

Lucy . They'll knock the door down, Ma'am, I cannot stay, You must excuse me. ( Knocking again
.) Mercy! how they knock! 

It certainly is now near nine o'clock. [ Exit Lucy. 

Bel . She knows not who I am, nor don't suspect, I've come this night my monster to detect; I'm
in good time to see the ball begin, To watch my spark and his fine lady in: 'Twas quite by accident
I chanced to hear, That he was coming with his creature here; For he declared that he this night
must go, With his aunt Barnacle to Walthamstow; The traitor never more shall me deceive, I never,
never more will man believe; He little dreams I'm here, but thinks that Jane And I are at my Aunt's
in Hornsey Lane. 

( Walks about much agitated .) 

I think he'll never know me in this dress, 'Tis prim and formal, that I must confess, And like
those worn in time of good Queen Bess. I'll at his letter take another look, To see if I his meaning
have mistook. 

( Produces a letter and reads .) 

Could any wretch be found to write like this. And make such vows and still to keep a Miss?-( Starts!
) Monstrous! this in a court of law would prove A marriage promise and a pledge of love. 

(Jemima enters unperceived .) 

I'll put it up, for were I once again To read such perfidy-'twould turn my brain. 

( Walks up the stage agitated, Jemima comes forward .) 

Jem . (Aside.) Who's this? 'twas like Belinda's voice I heard, It cannot be, the dress is too
absurd; I'll satisfy myself before I go; And cross and see her face, I then shall know. Mercy,
Belinda t'is it you my dear? In this disguise whatever brought you here? 

Bel . Curiosity; for I've a wish to know Who comes, what's said, and watch a faithless beau. 

Jem . That's curiosity I needs must say, I think you'd better let him have his way. 

Bel . Give him his way; no, never while I live, Will I to any man such sanction give: Observe, my
dear, I've put on this disguise, That I the treacherous monster may surprise. 

Jem . Were he my beau, I this revenge should take, Would try if I cou'dn't some new conquest make;
There's beaux in plenty left, if you'll but try, And many, who for you will swear to die. 

Bel . In such a frolic some would take delight, And I confess I think 'twould serve him right;
I scarce know how to act; let me reflect- Shall I the monster publicly detect? Or take no notice,
but incog. remain, To watch his motions, and my proof obtain.-( Pauses .) I am now resolved;
have hit upon a plan, That will detect him, if possibly I can Submit to see such perfidy in man.
I'll take my seat, and pass for your aunt Mumps, Then I shall see my spark play but his trumps:
They'll take me for some antiquated dame, That I mayn't dance I will pretend I'm lame: Will watch
him first, and when I've him detected, Will change my dress and come in unexpected; I then can
prove his falsehoods to his face, And bring him and his lady to disgrace. 

Jem . Your plan should be to get some dashing beau, B2 And one if possible that he don't know, To
chat and dangle with, you'll then soon prove, Whether for you or her he has most love. 

Bel . Excellent thought I I'll follow your advise, And when I change with dress myself so nice,
In that new silk which now is quite the rage, Then all the room's attention I'll engage. I've
heard there's coming plenty of nice sparks, Not prentices, or tow inferior Clerks, But real
gentlemen, and some not married, Whose love affairs have lately miscarried, Who love new faces
whether brown or fair, And in five minutes will their love declare. 

Jem . They're just the sort of sparks that I should chuse, To make him jealous and myself amuse.

Bel . With some of those dear sparks I'll chat and walk, And seem to listen to their flattering
talk; He'll think me quite in earnest, and I know, Young Flatter's coming, who was once my beau:
He hates young Flutter ever since he brought Me that hair-ring: in fact, for me they fought.
I'll take a turn with him, that I'll engage, Will put my spark in such a rage; He'll either quit
the room, or else down right, Expose himself, and challenge him to fight; For he's so jealous,
fears all this and that, Twill serve him right, and give him tit for tat; He'll find that I'm no
lamb now I've begun, On him I'll be revenged before I've done. 

Jem . You'll find, depend on't, that's the only plan, You can adopt, to punish your false man.

Bel . I'll punish him unless he will down right, Renounce his creature; aye, and that this night;
I am determined; but you've not said, my, dear, If jealousy or pleasure brought you here. 

Jem . I'm free from jealousy in every way, And wish all ladies now the same could say; I am come
to quiz the dancing, and to see Who this - is, and what his pupils be; I have heard of them, but cannot
say I've seen, Them dance, or at his Balls have ever been. 

Bel . Oh! that's your object here; then Jane was right, Who said you went to dancing every night.

Jem . I never was at - 's I protest, Tho' he has twenty years the art professed; But from most other
teachers more or less, Have taken lessons, and I must confess, Have lately visited all balls
in town, From petty hops to balls of most renown. The different styles of dancing there to see,
And how the various methods do agree, With sense and reason, and the rules of art, And how those
several masters do impart Their rare instructions, as they all declare, That none with them
yet ever could compare. 

Bel . True; for egotism there's few can match? These sapient teachers, who all try to catch Unwary
strangers, with assertions they Put forth in various forms, with grand display, By which they
lead the credulous astray, And only live by those whom they deceive, From their pretensions,
this you'd scarce believe. 

Jem . They can't impose on me, as I have seen, The first of dancer's who have ever been Upon the
stage, or figured at a ball, Can imitate their manners one and all: Have had the greatest masters
of the age, As ball-room teachers, likewise for the stage; And now can well discriminate and
show, That I the different styles of dancing know. * B 3 

Bel . Your knowledge of the art none can deny, On your good judgment I can well rely; Tho' no great
dancer, yet I plainly see, What mere imposters many teachers be; I do not mean those dancers
who well know The art, and scientifically can show That they to grace and elegance can join Fine
execution, and the whole combine With taste and judgment, and can well impart The various branches
of this pleasing art. To teachers of this class I don't allude In my remarks; such teachers I
exclude; And only aim at those well-known impostors, Self-titled, self-created dancing
masters, Whose teaching is a libel on those elves, Disgraceful to thier pupils and themselves;
Who cheat all persons they attempt to show, Of time and money, as they nothing know, But mongrel
stuff, nonsensical; absurd, With strange new fangled names you never heard. 

Jem . I know both classes well, and every day Meet some of them. Indeed am proud to say I know some
dancers on and off the stage, Models of the art and wonders of the age; Yet they can only "DANCING
MASTERS" write, A name assumed by every paltry wight, Who scarce can run the hey; yet will abuse
Those teachers, though not fit to chalk their shoes; These mean impostors bring to disrepute,
This polite art, and teachers of repute. 

Bel . And libel both as spleen or interest suit. 

Jem . Nothing like science do they teach or know, They are quacks in dancing, which I'll plainly
show. 

Bel . They're quacks indeed, if you their bills survey, And weigh their talent well with what
they say; They every dance propose to teach, and well, Though they the five positions scarce
can tell. 

Jem . There was a time, and that not long ago, When Dancing Masters were obliged to know The Art
of Dancing well, and that explain, Ere they could fame or pupils hope to gain; When talent only
could command respect, And pupils Could impostors soon detect; When Bishop * taught, and Slings
by graced the stage, And when less talent scarce would please the age), Who vied with all the
dancers then in France, And taught their pupils gracefully to dance; Whose pupils danced with
much more grace than those, Who now for teachers on the town impose: Teachers of dancing were
considered then, As well informed and polished gentlemen: There were few teachers then, but
why you'll ask, Because but few dare undertake the task; But teachers now with blacking-makers
vie, In number and in puff to catch the eye; They multiply like insects in the sun, Some hobble
forth; some hop, whilst others run, All term themselves "professors," and engage To fit you
for the ball-room or the stage; A quarter's dancing, and a flaming bill Now make a teacher, and
proclaim his skill; A few quadrilles, a hornpipe reel or so, Are quite as much as many teachers
know; In every shop or corner of a street, Some new PROFESSOR'S bill of fare you meet; Go round
or thro' the town which way you will, You're sure to see some dancing master's bill; On every
Wall or fence their hills are seen, From east to west, from Bow to Turnham Green; They teach for
prices any dance you chuse, For less than shoe-blacks charge for blacking shoes; They all "PROFESSORS"
write, and on the wall, They seem to vie with Vestris[ * and with Paul. Try them, see their pupils
dance. then proclaim Whether" PROFESSOR" does become their name. One "gratis gives a month,"
says, " come and try ," As they cry walnuts, " taste before you buy ." Some advertise, that "if
you do not learn In certain time, the money they'll return; " Quack doctors like, who advertise
to say, Their terms to patients are" no cure no pay ." " To give four months for three ," there's
one agrees, By way of blessing, as they give with peas. Others less modest still demand some
pay, And for one guinea, in six lessons they Will teach completely, any dance you will; Minuet,
gavotte, waltzing, or quadrille; And some, who on their talents can't depend, A picture of
their room to shops they send, To hang in windows that they may be seen, Just like a grocer's nodding
Mandarin; They know fools gape at, pictures; nay, believe All they see is true, and thus themselves
deceived; Other devices not less strange they try, Their objects to surprise and catch the
eye. 

Bel . They all condemn each other, say they'll show That they alone the art of dancing know; Each
other's plans they publicly disown, As each has got a method of his own; They all possess great
talents, so they say, (And printed papers are all true!) then they Must be the greatest masters
of the day. 

Jem . But printed statements often prove to be, Except in print a mere nonentity; These proofs
in plenty have occurred to me: Each teacher * shows great talent by his bill , Just read it o'er,
you'll wonder at his skill, There every dance is named, and they engage, To make their pupils
wonders of the age; In a few lessons and at small expence, One guinea is all they ask us recompence
. 

Bel . With these proposals they must all deceive, Who in their bills implicitly believe. 

Jem . 'Tis only those they catch who have never been, At balls or theatres, where good dancing's
seen; With that experience they would soon discern, Their masters ought themselves to go and
learn. 

Bel . Are they unconscious of their own defects; Or is it impudence that them protects? 

Jem . Of impudence they've no deficiency; Neither of envy; but of modesty These great professors
often want a grain, Tho' they in others of this want complain; Their usual candour, if you've
any doubt, You'll by this method very soon find out. Ask them what sort of teachers others be,
If Mr. A or B, or C or D, Are not good teachers?-this candid tribe will say, "These people have
no talent to display; "A grovelling set, they never had repute, "Nor dare with us one moment
to dispute." Or else pretend these teachers to disown, And say, "As masters they are quite unknown."
Like rival ladies, run each other down, Rail at the taste and blindness of the town. 

Bel . Candor's a virtue that but few possess, Yet there's but few who candor don't profess. 

Jem . I've seen such tricks play off you'd scarce believe, By these quack teachers, aye, that
would deceive Satan himself, who would scarcely be aware Of such finesse, but drop into their
snare; They change their names, e'en country they disown. 

Bel . To me there's several of these gentry known, There's some to pass for foreigners will try,
And on their impudence alone rely; They all declare they're lately come from France, And with
them brought some new surprising dance; Yet many of them France have never seen, And others
have to Calais only been. Others a letter from their names retrench , * Or add, or else transpose
to make it French; They shrug their shoulders, and cry "Sacre Dieu," But know no more of French
than our Sue; They gabble broken French, and try to pass For Frenchmen; but are often like the
ass In fable told, who wore the lion's skin, And strove to take his fellow-creatures in; Was
by his ears at last found out, and then Was scouted and disgraced by beasts and men. 

Jem . That's just the case, Belinda, I well know, And can the truth of your assertions shew; I
heard a jabbering coxcomb once affect To understand and speak French dialect; Nothing you
ever heard was so absurd, He misapplied and wrong pronounced each word; With nasal twang * I
head this creature call, The quadrille figures at his last grand ball, "Twas neither French
nor English that I heard. But jargon quite nonsensically absurd, Shrugs and grimace he used
at every word! 

Bel . I think I know him, but I cannot say, So many new ones spring up every day. 

Jem . In almost every street are dancing rooms. And teachers now spring up like mushrooms, From
clowns, fiddlers, hawkers, hucksters, tailors, Carpenters, cobblers, pantaloons, and
sailors; From servants, tinkers, pastry cooks, and bakers; And some, I am told, were lately
undertakers; They are all at once great adepts in the art, And promise rare instructions to
impart; When they commence, with hopes to stamp their fame, They always add "professor" to
their name, And then send out a pompous bill of fare, Contrived to make good honest people stare;
Name every dance of which they've ever heard, Famed teachers bills they copy word for word;
Not matter only but the type's the same, In nothing differ; but the teacher's name. Read but
their bills, you'll find they promise all, That can be done by Vestris or by Paul. 

Bel . Don't they to able teachers often go, To learn of them what they pretend to know? 

Jem . A visit to their balls they sometimes make, And there a sort of outline strive to take, Of
certain dances that they advertise, That ne'er before met those professors eyes; And what's
still more, they canvass while they're there, For their own balls, and give out bills of fare;
For you must know they all have bails that they In print their names and talents may display,
But never mean one twentieth part they say. 

Bel . Some knowledge of their balls I wish to gain. 

Jem . 'Twould be digressing should I here explain, But I will soon their nature fully state,
And likewise public bahs investigate; At present will confine myself to give You some idea
how these quack teachers * live, How great professors pupils do obtain, And how they oft instructions
from them gain; When they get pupils who before were taught, And who, with them, have any dancing
brought, From such they learn; what they ne'er knew before, Although they've advertised it
o'er and o'er. If pupils badly dance, or from neglect, Or want of genius, or can't recollect
What they've been taught, professors lay the blame On former masters, to traduce their fame,
And often boast from other teachers they Get pupils, but how they never fairly say; Whether
from ignorance, or through some dispute, Or prices, which all pockets do not suit. One prides
himself on what you'd scarce suppose, That he the manners of a dustman knows; C To show his predilection
for that trade, Has had his portrait as a dustman made, Which in his ball-room is conspicuous
placed, To show his pupils his fine attic taste. He'd be offended, should he hear you say, He
is not the greatest dustman of the day. 

Bel . Such vulgar notions in a teacher show That his connections must be very low; What sort of
people visit at his place? Are all his pupils of the dusting race? You know the saying is, "birds
of a feather (Be what they may) will always flock together." Example in the master leads the
van; As acts the master, mostly acts the man; Yet, who and what they are, I never heard. 

Jem . They, are all gentlemen, if you will take his word. 

Bel . So he will say, but did you ever hear, A silken purse was made from a sow's ear? 

Jem . Though he has professed the art for several years, The dustman in his dancing still appears.
The dancing dustman, some have called this wight, And those, who know him, say they've named
him right; He teaches all departments of the art, And promises the Graces to impart. 

Bel . 'Tis strange, if those in Graces can excel, Whose motto is, "the basket and the bell." Dustman
and dancing master most folks say, Are callings opposite, as night from day. Is it from ignorance,
or for gain, that he Delights in this strange low propensity? 

Jem . It must be gain, though every one agrees: He is really not a modern Socrates ; Yet such a stickler
for the trade he's grown, He'll own himself inferior to none. 

Bel . The dancing masters hardly will dispute, That he is not a dustman of repute, Nor envy him
his portrait or his fame, Nor" Dusty Bob," should he prefer that name; May he enjoy the basket
and the bell, And every dustman in the town excel! 

Jem . Another teacher thinks he shows his skill, Who makes his placard like a lottery bill; The
leading features of his bill you'll see, With lottery puffing strictly will agree: He prints
(in letters nearly one foot high) The following puff, design'd to catch the eye. " Quadrilles
* by him are in six lessons taught ," With this he hopes the public will be caught. But, note his
hill, you in small type will find, He has a saving clause, secure behind, Like haberdashers,
who write up "as Todds , " Where the conjunction "as" makes all the odds: His bill not only this
device displays, But to its author gives the greatest praise. For his acquirements, and his
matchless skill, "To name them all, requires a larger bill." 

Bel . These lottery-puffing teachers will no doubt, Soon, like the lottery, puff themselves
quite out. 

Jem . Their loss to London this effect will have, The public will both time and money save. Another
* "secret graces can impart," "That few or none can analyse his art;" "How its created, common
teachers are "Quite ignorant;"-thus runs his bill of fare. Another plan these petty teachers
try, To pick up pupils from the passers by, By opening wide the windows where they sit, Scraping
aloud some fiddle, bass, or kit , Just to collect a croud about the door, To gape up at the first
or second floor; To make themselves and residence well known, Is what they have in view and what
they own; They have no regard for strict propriety, Their onty aim is notoriety; Walk in who
will, they're never very nice, And seldom differ with you as to price; To take your money they
are always willing, They let none go who will advance one shilling. 

Bel . That's true enough, for I have heard it said, Aye, fifty times, by many who have paid; Yet,
these quack teachers oft a consequence Assume, to which they've not the least pretence, Either
in means, manners, or in sense. 

Jem . To gain a consequence these teachers try, And either on their impudence rely, Or some device
or singularity, In hopes of fame or popularity. Another thinks that Royalty * has charms, And
on his shutters paints the Royal Arms; But e'er to see the Royal Guest dance there, Credulity
itself would ev'n despair. 

Bel . Perhaps he to the palace often goes, To drill the monarch and to point his toes. 

Jem . He, at the royal residence, 'tis said, Was never seen-to knock would be afraid, Lest the
rude porter in an angry fit, Should feel his ears, and tread upon his kit, And make him soon be
glad to stir his stumps, Thro' mud and water in his dancing pumps. 

Bel . And yet, perhaps, that lady who of late, Has claimed the honour of the Royal state, (For
whom some people Acheron would move If they should fail to bend the Gods above,) May have beheld
with her discerning eyes, The great professor's modest merit rise, And granted licence which
must all surprise. 

Jem . If, 'tis not so, he must, to 'scape disgrace, Just take a mop and smudge his lion's face.
The same professor says, (tho' I've not seen,) He has invented a rare new machine, To teach the
waltz without a master's aid, And with it he has several waltzers made. C 3 

Bel . Well; after this, there's nothing strange can seem, We next shall hear that people waltz
by steam. 

Jem . But I have not all its properties explained, As other great advantages are gained; He says
'twill make deformity quite straight, And awkward persons have a genteel gait; Like smiths,
who can the heated iron with ease Extend, straighten, or bend how they please; However stiff
deformed or old they have been, They all waltz gracefully by this machine. Another modestly
a Latin motto tries, None less than Nelson's his great mind supplies. "Palmam * qui meruit ferat,"
he cries. 

Bel . This really is what mottoes ought to be. 

Jem . Yet, with this motto, he didn't long agree, But fearing it was really verified, As he no
pupils got, he shortly tried To make himself more singular, then chose To hoist a flag as at a
rendezvous; These banners from the windows he let fly, With large inscriptions meant to catch
the eye; His name, profession, and the terms you'll find, With strange devices on these flags
combined. Others, quack doctors like, aspire to fame, And give their portrait to preserve
their name. They all are gentlemen, at least if they Tell true, and you'll believe in what they
say. Another great professor still goes higher, Who always writes and stiles himself "Esquire,"
And often to himself does letters send, Written as from some governess or friend, Which both
himself and dancing recommend. There's some professors to acquire a name. On able teachers
merits build their fame From skilful teachers, * pupils they engage, Their balls to open, or
upon the stage To dance; but their real master's merits they disown, And advertise those pupils
as their own. From other teachers merits they obtain, Pupils and credit, and themselves maintain.

Bel . That's often done, which I've myself observed, And know some teachers, who have thus been
served. The royal arms now most professors sport, As if they taught the monarch and the court,
In hopes the reader will from this presage, That they enjoy the royal patronage; "Tis libellous
on Majesty to see Each Jack O'Noaks make free with royalty: For dustmen, chimney-sweeps, and
mouse-trap makers, Showmen, fire eaters, and cat-gut scrapers, Now clap the royal arms above
their name; Thus every driveller does this privilege claim. 

Bel . Patronage for excellence was the intent, Of those who used the arms and what was meant;
Were they employed by royalty, then they Might legally the royal arms display; But, these you
have named, these "would be's of renown Have no more right than Jack Ketch to the crown. 

Jem . Strangers who are from distant countries brought, Would think John Bull the dancing mania's
caught, If they should really judge from what they see, That all who bear the royal arms must
be Employed to teach the Sovereign steps and grace; They'd say all things to dancing now give
place, And our good monarch meant to take the lead, And every public dancer supersede; Could
not believe the gout he ever had, But must suppose he new was "dancing mad." And think from these
professors one and all, That lie took lessons, or else graced their ball. 

Bel . The Herald's College really ought to see, That due respect is paid to royalty, And not let
every low presuming elf, With royalty identify himself. 

Jem . Every device these great professors try They think misleads, or can deceive the eye. Some
keep their gigs by way of imitation, Of those oar greatest teachers in the nation; Like needy
doctors, business they pretend, And mount their gigs, though pupils do not send. 

Bel . I have heard as much from many who have been To them, and all their practices and tricks have
seen. 

Jem . Some take great houses, build, and dash away, On large brass plates "PROFESSOR," they
display, But sometimes move this side of quarter day; His pupils and subscribers then in vain
May call him rogue, but never will obtain Their money back; the great professor's off, And at
their weak credulity does scoff. Those simple people often to their cost, Find out too late
their time and money's lost. 

Bel . It serves those people right, who to fresh places, Will always run, because there are new
faces. 

Jem . These teachers have another trick, which they Upon inquiring strangers often play: They
purchase worn-out shoes * of every kind, And save all those their pupils leave behind, Put them
in heaps; or place them in a row, Tho' old and torn, they serve to make a show Of business: ask them
what pupils they Have got; they pointing to the shoes will say, "Here, count their feet, you
see I have a few "Who practice hard; those shoes were lately new." To find their wearers you would
have no chance, They are either dead, or have long ceased to dance. 

Bel , I've seen this trick played off, by one you know, Who only first commenced three months
ago, 

Jem . To pass for what they're not is their intent, But nothing do without a precedent; One step
alone these teachers dare not go, As they have no genius of their own to show, But wait till others
publish something new, Then word for word, and step for step pursue; They on those masters must
attendance dance; They follow close, but daren't one step-advance; They send forth works
on dancing stole from those They imitate, and strenuously oppose; To hide their thefts, they
change the form and stile Of the original, their readers to beguile, Transpose the matter,
to evade the law, If sued for plagiarism, to find a flaw. From books and bills these teachers
feel no shame To copy all, except the author's name. But have not conscience to admit the same;
Like hardened thieves, the truth they will conceal, And only at the rack, own what they steal,
They prior dates and borrowed titles try, To gull the town, and claim priority: For their own
thefts they no compunction feel, But caution others, not from them to steal; If you examine
what these poachers claim, You'll find the author bear another name, Yet blacking-makers
like, bid you beware, Of imitators, and of spurious ware; From Day and Martin they their cautions
take, Tho' trite, they hope they may impression make; Like Warren and Dyson, these professors
cry, "Be sure you ask for-when you buy." Comparisons are sometimes odious found, So these professors
their own trumpet sound; To puff themselves these teachers feel no shame, So recommend whatever
bears their name, And slander all of whom they've ever heard, But for themselves they have their
own good word: In bills and puffs they all devices try, And print in red and blue to catch the eye:
In hucksters shops, on walls, and posts you find, Their spacious bills of fare of every kind;
They think if they could echo thro' the town Their names, 'twould stamp them teachers of renown.

Bel . I've often heard what there's no room to doubt, The greatest blockhead makes the greatest
rout, And by his noise the fool is oft found out. 

Jem . I hope that may occur to those Whom we Allude to,-that would satisfaction be, And save the
public from those great impostors, Who only bear the name of dancing masters; Hoping with consequence
their names to grace, They oft before them several initials place, As G. M. S. and R. M. D.; * likewise
Three notes of admiration !!! meet your eyes, Just like a panish prince, of whom I've heard,
Who had fifty names most pompous and absurd; Their egotism is visible to all, For every thing
by their own names they call, The dances, steps, and tunes, they always name From their dear
selves, for to preserve their fame; Some make low terms, and think they'll numbers gain, Others
strive hard, high prices to obtain, And think the price will show the teacher's fame, And 'mongst
the great, disseminate his name; 'Tis not the money they extort alone, From pupils I complain
of, but you must own, They teach them methods which can't be removed; Try one of them, the truth
will soon be proved, How they're imposed on, pupils soon may know, If they to some good able teacher
go, Who will at once the contrast clearly show. Another system they pursue for gain, And advertise
in order to obtain, Apprentices, with premiums, and engage To qualify them for the ball or stage;
Tho' they've no talent to fulfil the task They undertake, yet they great premiums ask; When
gained, the pupil may instruct himself, The master's objects, to obtain the pelf; Should any
donee be advertised that's known * To the inventor, and to him alone, Teachers, like these,
no sooner hear the name, But they will advertise to teach the same. They say, 'twill show they
have professional skill, And make a leading feature in their bill; Should you to them to learn
these dances go, Or others advertised, which they don't know, They something of their own will
substitute, Just as occasion or convenience suit; Or swear these dances were by them composed,
And run the risk of being by you exposed. Should you detect the cheat you may complain, But 'twill
not get your money back again; They're silly elves who think they will recover; When fools bethink
themselves, the market's over. Refunding's what these teachers don't profess, That is a virtue
which but few possess; They're not so conscientious as to go At midnight, thro' a bitter frost
and snow, To make amends to those who may complain, And willingly give money back again; If in
the balance there was fairly laid. Their honor, and their grace, and both were weighed, The
difference then you hardly would discern, As 'twould be doubtful Which the scale would turn;
Respecting grace, observe I am not confined, In my remarks to graces of the mind. 'Tis thought
by some that dancing masters are For grace and etiquette beyond compare, And that their pupils
in the same do share, Strangers mistake, for great professors, now (That's some of them) can
hardly make the bow; For grace and etiquette are things which they Have never taught, or learnt
beyond hearsay; To good behaviour some have no pretence, Much less to etiquette, to grace,
or sense. An instance of it shall be plainly shown, In a professor to the town well known; He's
one of those self-titled modest race. Whose want of talents proves no want of face: This great
professor lately at a fair, Was dancing at a booth * (no matter where) When he forgetting etiquette
and grace, Was by the master kicked from out the place; D 'Twas not in motions, graceful, soft,
and slow, Performed, as Vestris would have raised his toe; These movements were not in the waving
line, Of beauty, gentle, soft, and serpentine; For they not only wanted ease and grace, But
were applied all to a nameless place; No stings of conscience did the suttler feel, Tho' the
professor cried-" twas ungenteel:" The cause was this, so void of grace was he, He dared insult
a lady while at tea; Remonstrance was in vain, he bounc'd and swore, But got chastised, and put
without the door. The fiddlers laughed at his disgrace with all. That had assembled at this
shilling ball: To know his name, inquiry went about, The band, who knew him, let the secret out;
Nor did they fail to mention his profession, They being indignant at his rude aggression. 

Bel . I heard some persons once this tale relate, But really thought they did exaggerate. 

Jem . 'Tis true, depend on't, for it came to me, From one that played there, who the whole did see;
Yet this professor teaches, as I'm told, This polite art to young and sometimes old; But read
his bills, and see what there's professed, And if you knew what dancing he possesed, A great
professor is easy made, you'd own, For he's one made by impudence alone * . 

Bel . What sort of people go to this strange clown? They must be fools, and strangers to the town;
Like the good neighbours in Ben Jonson's play, * They scarce know what they hear, or see, or say.

Jem . There's some of each no doubt with others blended, Who are grown too old in folly to be mended;
And many instances of this appears, As wisdom sometimes don't keep pace with years. 

Bel . How can he find so many fools to go, To learn of one who does so little know? 

Jem . There's fools in plenty in the town they say, And fresh cart loads to town come every day.
These teachers fish for fools, for all agree, That fools believe in all they hear or see. 

Bel . Those we call fools, if asked, no doubt, will say, That we are now much greater fools than
they; For self-opinion with our pride combin'd, Too often makes us to our interest blind; Of
want of judgement, few themselves suspect, And our own errors we too late detect. 

Jem . That's true, no doubt, but nature has, you'll find, To our own faults made us completely
blind; D 2 For nature plants in every human breast, A notion they are wiser than the rest; Each
calls his neighbour fool, but will not own, That he, himself, is dull or stupid grown: The sorriest
sots, nay, the most abject tools, Will often call the privy council fools. No mortal can be found,
however dull, That will admit he has an empty scull. 

Bel . To every rule exceptions do abound, And in opinion there's great difference found; For
some would venture where a saint would dread. 

Jem . Yes; "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread;" These are the guests these teachers strive
to gain, Who may be cheated, and will not complain; They send their schemes, their puffs, and
bills of fare, Throughout the town, north, east; nay, every where. Some to the public papers
are confined, But they are puffers of the self same kind; Their terms * are low-a week some say
is all You need attend, to fit yon for a ball. Others more bold, who," in three lessons" say They'll
make a novice dance and grace display, Kind, clever souls ! to save our time and purses! 

Bel . You mean such quacks well merit kicks and curses. 

Jem . some go to those who most professions make; These teachers first do this, the money take;
When that's received, their pupils soon discern, More money's wanted if they mean to learn:
Should they refuse, and say they're taken in, Still fresh believers come, and there begin;
However, dull, these teachers all agree, In any dance you shall compleated be, And for one guinea
only, that is all, You need expend to fit you for a ball; Should you have doubts, and say, great
time 'twould take Before you could a graceful dancer make; To sooth your fears these teachers
will foretell, * (Ev'n to a minute) when you shall dance well; They name what lessons pupils
ought to take, Engage that number will good dancers make; (And what's more cheering) they the
number fix, And for completion, too ! and that's but six! It, matter not who goes, the same they're
told, Should they be either stupid, stiff, or old. 

Bel , Those with six lessons, every one must own, Are only fit to jump about alone; For should
they e'er to public dances go, They must make sport for those who dancing know; I have known some
persons fifty lessons take; Who even then did sorry dancers make; When pupils have six lessons
had do they, Engage again, or do they go away? 

Jem . Some in those lessons find they have been cheated, As with six lessons they are not half
compleated. 

Bel . What, says the master, when they plainly show, They've had six lessons and the dance don't
know? 

Jem . These great professors then to save their fame, Will on their pupils always lay the blame;
"Then you must have another course (they say), Or else your time and money's thrown away. 'Tis
found these courses oft must be repeated, Before the pupils in the dance compleated; Experience
then will whisper in their ear, That in the end they have bought cheap dancing dear. D 3 

Bel . Surely completion * means when you well know, The dance you're learning, and can plainly
show, That you the steps and figures well combine; Can execute and show the whole design; Till
then, and not till then, can pupils be Compleated does their completion then agree With this?
have pupils, too, the privilege shown To practice, till their dances are well known? 

Jem . That is a privilege quite to them unknown. 

Bel . Then when completions urged, pray, what defence Have these professors, and what's their
pretence? 

Jem . They blame the pupils, say, "they've hundreds taught, And in six lessons to perfection
brought;" In fact, their methods never fail, when they (The pupils) practice, and attention
pay: They'd mention pupils names, if, you insisted, As living proofs (who never yet existed).
Completion's by them managed in this way, Beyond six lessons you again must pay; They, by this
practice, many guineas gain, Which by fair dealings, they would ne'er obtain. 

Bel . What plan, what means, do these quack teachers try, When they at first commence how do they
supply Their rooms with company, as they're unknown, And have no reputation with the town?

Jem . To fill their rooms and make a specious show. They tickets send to all the girls they know;
Which will admit as many ladies more, As chuse to come, should it be half a score ! Welcome are
all who come, there's no selection For character, for morals, or connection; As these are little
niceties which they Don't mind. Girls they must have, for girls they say, Will men entice, and
likewise make them stay; 'Tis men that they make pay, ladies they know To balls without their
purses often go. With this in view, these teachers one and all, Do visit every hop or public,
ball; And tickets give to girls of every sort, Who usually to common hops resort, For they admit
of guests of every, kind. 

Bel . Then that explains how they such numbers find. 

Jem . They all know well that human nature's frail, And of her weakness do themselves avail;
That every one will at new conquests aim, To feed their passion, or extend their fame: Tho' often
jilted, and tho' they complain Of broken vows, yet still they'll try again. Each sex, by turns,
preponderates (they find), Each has attractions of a different kind: Sometimes the gentlemen
attractive prove, Sometimes the ladies have the power to move The gentlemen for interest,
or for love: 'Tis known each have magnetic powers, which they As suits their purposes bring
into play; That either interest or inclination Is prominent in every rank and station; For
many a man to meet a girl will go To balls; and girls in hopes to gain a beau, And this these teachers
by experience know; Besides, that dancing's a pretext to see The favorite Mr. A -, or else Miss
B -, These rooms are places made for assignation. 

Bel . To see it wants but little penetration, I wish to know when schools they chance to gain,
How these quack teachers there themselves maintain. 

Jem . When they teach schools, which sometimes is the case, The school as well as pupils they
disgrace, By teaching what they'd be ashamed to show, If they did well the art of dancing know.

Bel . How do such teachers e'er get boarding schools, As they are seldom kept by simple fools?
But well experienced persons who have seen, The world, and some have dancing-teachers been.

Jem . These teachers on expedients all rely, And oft successfully this project try, They hire
a chaise and servant for the day, And never fail a livery to display; Then drive to every school
around the town, And give out cards as teachers of renown; To pass for masters who've acquired
some fame, They often change, * and so transpose their name; To point ont who they are by their
address, Some Secret magic power you must possess; If they're employed 'tis ten to one the case,
But their exposure prove the schools disgrace; With plain fair dealing they are not content,
But try by every means to circumvent Great masters, or those teachers of repute, With whom they've
the assurance to dispute For precedence; but when compared with those Established able teachers
whom they oppose, The difference is as great, say what you please You can't be wrong, if you say
"chalk to cheese;" Yet they to schools and families will go, Propose to teach at prices far below
The usual charge, in hopes they may obtain By cheapness what their merit ne'er could gain: They
know that governesses and masters are Anxious for profit, and but seldom care Who teach their
schools, provided they agree For every pupil taught to give a fee; Or poundage, called allowance;
out of each And every pupil they may have to teach; Long credit too, they know will oft prevail,
Where talent and where genius often fail: These are proposals which these teachers make: With
these inducements schools for interest sake Oft change their masters, and their schools disgrace,
By giving quacks an able teacher's place: If they can't thus succeed, another aim They take;
'tis to traduce the teacher's fame; To calumny they then resort, to gain What they by merit never
could obtain; With inuendos of "what people say," They strive to get their teachers turned
away; They know that scandal often will prevail, Where justice, truth, and honesty will fail;
A teacher's character at schools, they know, Should be as chaste and pure as driven snow; From
schools a teacher they will oft dismiss, From hearsay stories told of that or this; Time's scarcely
given for faults to be detected, Like Caesar's wife they must not be suspected: In continence,
loose morals, and the like In any teacher, would with horror strike The prudish governess,
whose pupils are To these instructors mostly sent for care: As well as education, for parents
say, "To school we'll send them out of all harms way." I mean those schools that educate the fair,
Whom governesses know are brittle ware. 

Bel . But, hold ! Jemima, recollect, my dear, We're wandering from our subject, and I fear We
have digressed, till I've lost my way. 

Jem . What most digressors do, I've oft heard say. 

Bel . Oh ! now I recollect 'twas teachers you Were then describing, and had brought to view Some
practices that were to me quite new. 

Jem . Upon that subject I could much more say, Which I'll explain upon some future day; I recollect
a circumstance or two, Tho' strange, yet I can vouch they're likewise true. They may be trifles,
but perhaps you'll say, They're not those trifles we should throw away. To other plans this
project some will join, In hopes to gain a casual glass of wine; Hang up some old cocked hat, *
or so, that they May make the wearer for a bottle pay; Establish fines, but place the cautions
where They cant be seen, to catch you in a snare. 

Bel . These practices are pitiful and mean, And in the ball-room never should be seen; Are only
fit for public houses, where The lowest sots the lowest habits share. 

Jem . One, showman like, with challenges abounds, "Will dance a hornpipe for a hundred pounds,"
With any one who dare contest his skill. 

Bel . I have read professor's challenge in his bill. 

Jem . This great professor, any one would swear, Has copied Saunders at Bartholomew fair; or
from some fire-eater stole his plan, Or mountebank, or hocus-pocus man, Who all give challenges
on which they'd bet, The sum's no matter, say, the national debt; For these buffoons know, when
the bet's proposed, They run but little risk of being opposed; And should that happen, as perhaps
it may, Then comes the rub, how can you make them pay? For who would wager with a mail of straw,
Too slippery to be held by any law; But surely the professor ne'er reflected, When he this showman's
trite device selected. Forgot that any reputable man, Would be ashamed to act upon this plan.
Professor must to erase this stigma go, To prove he never dances at a show; Quack doctor like,
to mansion-house to swear "That he is not a dancer at a fair;" Fifty professors * " he invokes
to see His matchless prowess and great ability. To show the town they'll have a monstrous treat,
"His bill of fare's to measure full nine feet." Like strolling hucksters who, to make you buy
Their damaged ware, "good lumping pennyworth's" cry; This sage professor puffs himself so
well, No bottle conjuror can't him excel. 

Bel . Whate'er he says, from this there's no retreating, Folks always prove the pudding by the
eating; This tap-room challenger I hope will see The folly of his inconsistency, And leave
long bills and challenges to those Shameless buffoons you see at penny shows; To those who read,
this may, like Turner's * blacking, Reflect professor's face, and cure his cracking. Another
dancing anecdote I've heard, Which, although true, is equally absurd; 'Tis of a great professor,
that's well known, Who stiles himself inferior to none; Yet, if a stranger come, who can dance
well, Professor, for this crime, would him expel. 

Bel . Ability, a crime by whom recorded? Talent, I have heard, should always be rewarded. 

Jem . So, I've been taught, but this imposing wight, Sees pupils talents in another light; He
knows comparisons are odious things, Which often to disgrace one party brings; This the professor
dreads, for, strange to tell! 'Tis only Tyros whom he can excel; And ev'n by those he has incurred
disgrace, As they've exposed professor to his face, Before his pupils at - place. 

Bel . A circumstance, like this, I lately heard, Am anxious now to know how it occurr'd. 

Jem . I'll tell you as I heard it, word for word, How the professor to disgrace was brought, And
by what means in his own trap was caught, 'Twas by a tyro, * who, by chance went there, Attracted
by professor's bill of fare, Who told professor, he'd some lessons had; But really fear'd that
he danced very bad. Quack doctor like, professor shook his head, Cried," 'Twoul'd be well if
half who taught were dead; Depend, on't, sir, if you one guinea pay, You in quadrilles shall
ease and grace display." The tyro then was introduced to see The great professor's rare ability;
He stalked about in such a pompous way, Like a drum-major on a grand field day; Then scraped his
fiddle, cried, "this tune is new," Gave B- a step, found fault, cried "Sacre Dieu," Boasted
of numbers which he never had, Cried, "modern teachers now are very bad; The public are of time
and money cheated, Their pupils come to me to be completed;" Then raised his toe, as if he dancing
knew, Not pointed, but just like a Chinese shoe: Cried, "Look, sir, keep your feet upon the ground,
Now, chassez, and then pirouette quite round." The tyro then complied, and strange to tell,
He did the great professor far excel, Who felt it, cried, "Sit down, sir, very well!" This was
not all; the tyro plainly saw, The great professor was a man of straw; So asked him various questions
on the art, But he'd no dancing knowledge to impart; This proved him not quite what he had professed,
And showed him an impostor at the best: His pupils saw at once they had been caught, And asked
the stranger where he had been taught; E These were strange sounds in our professor's ear, Which
he before had ne'er been used to hear; He seemed alarmed (for pupils talked together,) And restless
grew like pigs in stormy weather, Scraped his fiddle, cried "Order ! keep your places," Howe'er,
respectful, none could keep their faces, And some laughed loud, whilst others did proclaim,
"They'd found him out, and would expose his name," They saw that some, who thither came to be
His pupils, knew of dancing more than he; A novice might, they said, with ease discern, He knew
much less than some who came to learn; Were you to see him hop about and play, You'd really think,
(I've heard his pupils say,) He was the Billy Waters * of the day. 

Bel . I am told his manners and his customs are, Such as few gentlemen would chase to share; For
in his habits he's not very nice, And disregards Lord Chesterfield's advice: An instance of
this I will here relate, The truth of which I can substantiate; In his academy, as you shall hear,
He'll challenge pupils without shame or fear, To toss with him for ale, for gin, or beer. 

Jem . He never can the gentleman pretend, Whilst he to such low habits does descend; One might
suppose his pot companions were Dustmen, or else low jugglers at a fair; From such low habits,
strangers would protest, That Billy Waters must have been his guest; That he from Smithfield
had his manners brought, Was by the flying pieman gambling taught. 

Bel . Say. what they will, he has this consolation, He yet may fill some low and grovelling station;
And with a feather in his hat he may Like Billy Waters, in a tap-room play; And hop about to please
his Wapping friends, And cap in hand may make himself amends. 

Jem . One of connection had some room to doubt, And found his talents-would not bear him out;
To make amends, he on a project hit, Tho' old and trite it savour'd of his wit; So hailed the thought,
and cried-"this scheme will fit." He knew John Bull's propensity for eating, That some M. P's.
had been returned through treating; Likewise, that modern cits would now deny, The conflagration
came through gluttony; Nor let the monument * their peace destroy, Nor take their cautions
from the "Naked Boy, " Have struck out gluttony from civic sins, And rather praise than punish
greasy chins; There's good examples furnished every day, That cits would rather feast than
fast and pray, And risk their health and souls to share a feast, And disregard the doctor and
the priest; Of indigestion few would be afraid, Or shun a feast where nothing's to be paid; E
2 For abstinence is not the guiding star, That's worshipped now eastward of Temple Bar; From
this he augur'd that a specious bill, * Saying, "Supper, Gratis," might his ball-room fill.
So he puts out a pompous bill of fare, Contrived in hopes the public to ensnare; The interlines
in type of smallest size, "A Pearl," or "Diamond, " these blind lines supplies His large lines
were in type which you might read, On foot or horseback at the swiftest speed; The subjects he
selects for catch lines are, What Englishmen in general like to share. Sis harps and supper
gratis catch he eye In striking lines, on which he does rely; Read all his bill, you'll find his
specious treat is, Only to give a card of dances gratis; Those guests, who had, not read his bill
with care. And who thought they GRATIS should a supper share, Found out, but not till they had
supper taken, That they too late his meaning had mistaken; The waiter brought his bill, then,
what dismay! Deaf to excuse, the tavern made them pay, Those short of cash, the shock severely
felt, And on professor lots of curses dealt; Though all proclaimed it was a downright trick,
Yet none could even get a bite on tick; In vain they did professor's conduct blame, For he had
long before been lost to shame. 

Bel . From those who've learnt their manners at a fair, To find just dealing all might well despair.

Jem . He's called by some the petty-fogging hopper. 

Bel . His paltry conduct makes the name quite proper. 

Jem . One great professor gives the town a treat, In what he calls "a grand and annual fete; * "
He thinks the title frenchified and grand, That fools will praise what they don't understand,
That "ball" is now a hackneyed term to use, That something new will strike, and fools amuse,
Care's not if he's consistent in his phrase, Nor if his ball keep pace with what he says; Like
some professors who, to make a bounce, Instead of ball, a carnival annouce. E 3 Their carnival
like our professor's treat, Proves just the same in substance, a grand cheat. The master of
the ceremonies, I am told, At this grand fete was only seven years old. 

Bel . A child, * of seven years old, that's very strange! A child appointed dancing to arrange!
I have heard of lord's and bishops of that age, But not directors for the ball or stage; Professor's
motives I've not heard you state, Did it from vanity originate? 

Jem . Whether from vanity, or for gain alone, The child was-made director is unknown, Professor's
motives I'have never heard. 

Bel . Whate'er the motives were, the things absurd, Does he the duties of that office know? Can
he both etiquette and dancing show! 

Jem . I am told professor did with care impart, To this Beau Nash the secrets of his art; All those
who know professor will agree, A learner soon would know as much as he; If they tell true, whatever
he may say, Professor's quite an Eady in his way, And of the quacks the greatest of the day. 

Jem . Another teacher who for years I've known, And who I am now almost ashamed to own, Has imitated
those I've just exposed, And for five hundred pounds he has proposed To dance a minuet with those
who dare; But tell it not to Vestris or Albert; Nor at those schools where our professors fame
Stands high, as such low tricks must sink his name, And as a challenger bring loss and shame.

Bel . I've seen his bill, and know professor well, His motives for it, he alone can tell, How could
he e'er such vulgar notions know, For he's above a dancer at a show. Sure, our professor, if he
had reflected. Would have such folly in a trice rejected. 

Jem . 'Tis said he herds with some low challenge planners, And such connection must corrupt
his manners; For with this axiom every one agrees, "Sleep with the dogs and you must rise with
fleas." However foolish be the thing, some zany Will do the like, and thus one fool makes many.
For many fools will every hazard run, And never think until the deed is done. 

Bel . I have been told he has been heard to say, He cannot live in any other way. If that's the case,
he never must complain, But be contented in Duke's Place to reign. 

Jem . This showman's practice, tho' extended far, Has not, thank Heaven, reached west of Temple
Bar. 

Bel . May these professors never west he seen, But in the east for life do quarantine, And keep
such vulgar notions to amuse. Butchers, sailors, Wapping girls, and Jews. 

Jem . One thought he'd something monstrous advertise, That should at once the gaping town surprise,
But ne'er reflected on what there is no doubt, That fools, like cats: are by their noise found
out; So sent out bills, * with pictures placed on each, That he would "fifty-two divisions teach
Of waltzing!!!"-Mark, the term division shows The nature of the dance be little knows; Division
for position must be meant, Professor knew no better, so it went. Many believed these fifty-two
divisions, Were proof there were as many impositions; Yet I have heard professor oft advancing,
Something about "philosophy of dancing. " Perhaps he means to view with Boyle and Locke, For
of assurance he has an ample stock. 

Bel . Credulity, itself, this thought would shock; For would you judge his knowledge by his
phiz On old Lavater's rules; but I'll not quiz: You'd say that if in print his work is found, It
must be sold to chandlers by the pound; For all are not philosophers who write, And ten will reason
wrong to one that's right; Sometimes the most absurd and trifling thing, Will, into play, our
thoughts and reason bring; For, like old Shandy some philosophize On christian names and changes
in cat's eyes. There's many on philosophy, I've known, Have wrote large tomes you'd be ashamed
to own; Tho' censured, scorn the judgment of the town, And still write on, in hopes to gain renown;
Nothing too great, too foolish, or too dull, For those who've little knowledge in their skull.
Some will a mopstick gravely culogize, And on a broomstick quite philosophize; But our professor's
talent, I've heard say; Is not where most philosophers does lay; To show how our frail nature
faults conceals, He thinks his head's much better than his heels; To prove his new philosophy,
he may Like Gall and Spursheim, * all his art display And publish, too; in hopes to gain eclat,
On subjects dancers value not a straw. 

Bel . Lest this might raise the price of pens and paper, O, Terpsichore! let him do nought but
caper. 

Jem . There's one professor, a good loving soul, (Who on his card with wife sits cheek by jowl);
To make folks think he might have come from France, Has called his dancing-room "une salle de
danse." To fill it, and to make a specious show, Will tickets gratis give to all that go; And for
as many friends you chuse to take, Be who they may will no objection make; Fixes no night, that's
left ad libitum, Either next week, or else a month to come. Not only may you dance without expence,
But, mark me! go at your cenvenience; Hear this ye teachers of repute, and own; Is not such dancing
now a nuisance grown? Yet he'll maintain his company's select, And ev'n restrictive niceties
affect; Like some great judges who pretend to cry, When they condemn poor sorry souls to die.
I shall digress, unless with special care, As I've a clue will lead me God knows where; But I'll
return, and leave such things to those, Who books on jurisprudence can compose; To those who
know how guests find entrance there, You might as well tell them-(I must compare), Of Algar's
* select ball at Peckham-fair: That he's a quack, to prove it I am ready, And, amongst dancers,
quite a Dr. Eady. Some, on house-lops, like rival hosiers, write Their names and calling, in
red, black, and white; They've none of those genteel retiring ways, That dancing masters had
in former days; But thrust themselves so on the public eye, The wonder and the scoff of passers
by; A race that none did e'er professors call, Until the painter wrote it on the wall; Who were
before (moingst millions) lost in trade, And were professors by the painter made; Not like
some artists who make long probation, In hopes to gain the public approbation, And who have
rigid censors had to please, But our professors differ wide from these, For painter gives them
title and degrees; However this might shock our predecessors, A pound of paint now makes some
great professors. 

Bel . There's some professors think variety And sounding names gain notoriety; Like linen-drapers
give their house a name, No matter what, from whence, or how it came; Propriety and reason here
give way To folly and the fashion of the day. There's many who have no merit of their own, Trust
to the credit of the house alone; Like lottery agents, who, to make fools buy; Write "lucky corner,"
and invite to try, As "that's the lucky house once kept by Guy; And our professors imitate the
same, And have through folly, or in hopes of fame, Given their modern houses each an ancient
name; Their names were quite unknown three years ago, They with professors came, with them
they'll go; How ancient or appropriate I would fain, Here leave the antiquarian to explain:
Thus modern structures with old titles rise, Norton and Aldgate Houses meet your eyes: Here
two professors live, by bills well known, If not the best, the noisiest in the town. Some think
them skilled in antiquarian lore, That they have Speed and Stow read o'er and o'er, And know
all ancient places in the town When built, who dwelt there, and of what renown, Can prove the
scite where these professors dwell, Has been as famous as St. Ronan's well; If Whittington,
Wat Tylor, or Jack Straw, Had e'er been there to give the place eclat. 

Jem . I am told that our professors seldom read, Have never seen the works of Stow or Speed; And
if they have, they've only turned theta through, That they, like children, might the pictures
view; To find their houses or their names in Stow, You've little chance, as I can plainly show;
For they are by professors both baptized, If inappropriate, pray don't he surprised; For the
great sapient teachers of our days, Have none of Mr. Shandy's cautious ways, Who cried all names
by dictionaries and grammars, And weighed them as Pythagoras * did his hammers, To find a name
that had both sound and sense; But these are matters of no consequence To our professors; the
painter did, no doubt, In this grave matter help their genius out; They tried in vain, could
nothing better meet, So named their houses after the next street. This shows at once their genius
and their hate, From envy they each other imitate: If one should something new or foolish try,
Like yelping ours all follow in the cry; For each professor with his brother vies, And some strange
nonsense one or both supplies; And should the mania last, we soon shall see, That teachers will,
as fools, unrivalled be. There's yet one more, but he's beneath contempt. 

Bel . Who is he? Come. There's none should be exempt. For you well know the most important things,
Like mighty rivers, come from trifling springs; From mean and trifling things to our surprise,
We often see important matters rise; The greatest good and evil felt by men, Have been produced
by moving of a pen. And every day mean trifling things, we see, As well as beings, gain notoriety;
Read how inquiring Shandy's fancy itches, When he's in search of christian names and breeches.
Though these are trifles to some men of letters, To Mr. Shandy they were weighty matters; So
may what you call trifles prove to be Of consequence and interest to me: So who and what he is I
fain would know. 

Jem . But he is quite the lowest of the low, And technically called a man of dough. * " 

Bel . No matter who, or what he is, for all Such teachers are fair game, both great and small. 

Jem . This strange professor has another trade, Not only steps, but rolls by him are made: When
he's disposed of his dead men he goes From dough anad raspings to turn out his toes; His dancing
room, termed "his academy." At some low public house is said to be; His terms are sixpence for
a step, but they, Who learn must for a pot of porter pay The landlord to remumerate; what's spent
Is all he has in lieu of weekly rent. 

Bel . Such teachers and their plans I reporbate, Their practices bad morals inculcate, Encourage
drinking and late hours in those, Who this professor's company compose. What, and who next,
will dancing masters be? The like of this you'll surely never see. 

Jem . One for a guinea tells you in his bills, He'll teach three sets With steps of new quadrilles;
F They're dropped down areas,and crammed under doors, Anti ev'n sent to first and second floors;
Each knocker's loaded-house by house he'll take, Like overseers, who parish levies make;
Each letter box at inns of court he'll cram, To gain a pupil risk old red tail's d-n, Who takes
it up, conceives it smells of law, And little dreams 'tis from a man of straw, Believes 'tis business,
plea, or proposition, (Whose itching palm can't brook the imposition;) But when he finds a
dancer's card, his ire Is so increased, he crams it in the fire, Lest clerks take steps, and dance
with office fees, And fall to serve their notices and pleas. One hopes the public notice to engage,
And represents his ball-room on the stage; From Tom and Jerry * takes the hint, where you May
in one scene famed Almacks' ball-rooms view. 

Bel . If this was the spoutaneous act of those Who managed the concern, you might suppose That
our professor's noted in the town, And, with his room, had long acquired renown. 

Jem . Aye, that indeed!-but 'twas to make a hit, Painted for our professor's benefit- For managers
are not so philanthropic As some suppose, but rather philosophic, And only foster merit, when
'tis plain That by their patronage they are sure to gain; He thinks, poor soul! his room with
Almacks' vies, And on his name, tho' little known, relies; Thinks "elegant," a captivating
phrase, And "room," instead of "dancing," he displays. 

Bel . He vie with Almacks!-nay, he can as soon Tell us who teaches dancing in the Moon; And try
Pslenogistic knowledge to impart, And prove Gruithusien * a tyro in his art. 

Jem . All strive, but few can any fame command, or she deals honours with a sparing hand; But our
professors do not wait for fame, With her slow cautious steps to gild their name; But take a quicker
and a shorter way, And of themselves print what they'd have folks say. These teachers here remind
us of the ass , Who thought he could for a great favorite pass; So, when he saw his master fondle
pug, Grew quite conceited, brayed, and gave a shrug, Thought he'd be fondled too, and so he jumped,
Into his master's lap, but got well thumped For his presumption; and was heard to say, "All are
not favorites who can kick and bray." And lectured well his long-ear'd generation, To rest
contented in their lotted station. 

Bel . You'll find assuming fools will soon or late, For their presumption meet the ass's fate.

Jem . Lest he should suffer by ambition's curse, I'll one more fable in his ears rehearse; 'Tis
one of AEsop's and God knows how old, And often has been read and often told; But tho' its been
so often told before, It suits me now to tell the tale once more, As there's a fear that our professor
may Not hear of it in any other way; For I've been told that many dancers are Too proud to read,
too idle to compare; And, like some monarchs, every thing disdain, But what brings pleasure
and produces gain; Some are desirous to obtain cock's eggs, And wonder cats scratch chair and
table legs; In one I'm told a curious taste prevails, For counting spots in tabby Tom cat's tails;
* A straw, a feather, will these wights amuse, For which they'll Pope and Addison refuse; Yet
some have books, and they are placed to show, That they of classic knowledge something know,
And with their books, they sometimes globes combine, Tho' their poor noddies don't contain
one line: Nor can they tell you one celestial sign; But our professor I should hope to find Is
not like those, but of a different kind; And trust that he without reluctance will Read and explain
it, like a new quadrille; I'll now relate the subject of the fable, In my own way as well as I am
able: An envious, proud, ambitious frog, one day, Unto his brother croakers thus did say, "You
see that ox that's feeding in the field, To him for size I'll die before I yield." So he began to
strain himself, and tried To stretch his skin, so burst himself and died. Let those who're in
a hurry to be great, Remember this ambitious croaker's fate; And let his fate the vain and foolish
teach, To aim at nothing placed beyond their reach. Experience shows us that folks great and
small Who over-reach themselves, do mostly fall. Our dusting hero, I forgot to say, * Has lately
made another grand display Of his dear phiz in lithographic print, As like as portraits issued
from the mint; And from his mouth a cheering sentence flies, Which dustmen would apply and dustmen
prize; From "All-max," east, or "back slums " in the south, He brought the sentence just to suit
his mouth; Tho' 'tis not what Lord Chesterfield would use, Yet 'tis is keeping with Bob's taste
and views; And well accords with what he's used to hear, And, as he has it, "will the coveys queer."
Judge of the sentence, then, for here it is, "Here's luck, your honour." Pray now do not quiz;
For he don't know he sins against the graces, Altho' he has done it, aye, in fifty places. 

Bel . O, Terpsichore! forgive our dusting friend, And grant him grace, perhaps he may amend.

Jem . There's one thing more important to relate, Which I, till now, did quite forget to state,
That dusty Bob may in your memory live, With every ticket sold a print they give. 

Bel . This must be (or his motive I mistake), re show a teacher can a dustman make; Hear this ye
connoisseurs, and Come and buy, The like will never more be seen, rely; For he, like dirty Dick,
does all excel, Nor shall we ever see his parallel. On some established room that bears a name,
Some teachers do completely hinge their fame. Some have become professors in the town, Because
they'd names like teachers of renown, * They're like those authors (named by Hogg and Co.) Whose
name is all the public of them know, Who learn a little dancing just to say They're dancing masters
and their name display; Their bills are formed like the original, And as to wording that's quite
literal; In every sense they closely imitate, That none but dancers can discriminate Which
is the real and which is the imposter, By this lives many a modern dancing master. Great actions
do not always emanate From all who are called great men, as I can state; Nor do great places always
make great men, As I could instance to you where and when, As some who are called and think themselves
quite great, Would in the balance kick the beam for weight; For some belonging to the opera-house,
Remind me of the mountain and the mouse; 'Twas noised throughout the world by friend and neighbour,
That the great mountains were at last in labour, Curiosity then ran from house to house, The
wonder came, and lo! out crept a mouse! "Great cry and little wool," they all exclaim'd. Thus
the great talkers Were then justly sham'd, The well known adage in this case goes home, "Great
words do often from weak stomachs come." I could say more, but will some other day, The actions
of some opera mice display. * 

Jem . Others there are, whose plans are much the same, As those professors whom you've heard
me name; Next time we meet, if you desire to know Their practices, such documents I'll show,
As will expose such plans and tricks that you Yet never heard, nor e'er were brought to view.

Bel . I shall, of all things, like to hear you state, Their practices and all their tricks relate.

Enter Lucy . 

Lucy . Ladies, a gentleman has just come in, He asked, "Who's here, and when we should begin."

Bel . Who can he be? Don't you his person know? 

Lucy . He's strange to me; perhaps this card will show [ Producing a card . His name, and residence,
and business tell, It from his pocket accidentally fell; He swore he to his skin was quite wet
through, Shrugged up his shoulders, and cried "Sacre Dieu." 

Bel . Some Frenchman by his shrugs and exclamation. 

Jem . But our quack teachers imitate that nation, In manners, dialect, and action too, And all
their curses end with" Sacre Dieu." 

Bel . Come, let me look, who this fine spark can be. 

( Looking at the cards .) [ Exit Lucy. 

Ha! ha! 'tis one who always speaks to me, A quack professor, as you soon shall see, 'Tis that pragmatic
Chassee , a disgrace To dancing masters, and to every place Where ever he presumes to show his
face; He only comes, I am certain with this view, To give out cards, * or to learn something new
He's proud, affected, and a downright fop, And talks in technic phrases of his shop, Shrugs
and grimaces like the fops of France, And calls himself "Un Maitre de la Danse." Tho' all assumption,
knows no more than they Who go to learn, altho' he makes them pay. 

Jem . I have seen this coxcomb, but he knows me not, And to expose him, have just formed a plot;
If you'll assist me, I'll this very night, Show this pretender in his real light. 

Bel . In his exposure I shall take delight. 

Jem . My plan is this, I must pretend to know Nothing of dancing; then get him to show His steps
and stile; I then before his face The same will dance, and thereby him disgrace; His gait and
manners I will show likewise, And all his borrowed steps will analyze, And so exposed him that
he dare not stay, Tho' impudent I'll make him run away. 

Enter Mr. Chassee . * 

[Belinda and Jemima walk up the stage .] 

Chassee . Two ladies here!-Hey!-Who is that I see Disguised; 'tis like Belinda. It cannot be.

[Belinda and Jemima discover themselves .] 

Bel . Miss Jemima, Sir.-Mr. Chassee, whose fame You have no doubt heard full half the town proclaim.

Chassee . G. M. S. Chassee now I print my name. Didn't I near Temple Bar Belinda meet? 

Bel . I really, Sir, didn't know you in the street, Your parson's hat and dress to me were new,
And strange at first I could not believe 'twas you. 

Chassee . That dress and ha are all my own design, There's not another in the town like mine; That
is a proof of my ability, My taste and my originality. 

Bel . You're known for taste and singularity; But, Mr. Chassee, you really me surprise, To see
you here I scarce believe my eyes. 

Chassee . Surprise is mutual, that I must confess, To see Belinda here in such a dress! 

Bel . I have motives for it, Sir. You must excuse Me now, as it Would confidence abuse. 

Chassee . Pardon me, madam, I've no wish to pry Into your motives, that you may rely. 

Bel . Excuse me, now, perhaps before you go, You may the object of my visit know. My friend, this
lady, hither came with me, Accidentally a maiden aunt to see, Who has apartments here: we stopped
to tea: While we were chatting - chanced to call, And gave us each a ticket for the ball. If I may
now presume, your business is, To show your stile, and our new dances quiz. 

Chassee . Their usual stile's, most wretched, you must say, Why my dog Towsor has more grace
than they: They've nothing here but dances I well know, There's nothing new which they to me
can show; For teachers one and all now come to me, When they the modern dances wish to see; Yet
with assurance they will oft propose To teach, as theirs, the dances I compose. 

Bel . I hear that several of them copy you. 

Chassee . And by my merit live. Ah, Sacre Dieu! 

Bel . They say that you're a teacher of renown. 

Chassee . I'll challenge any master in the town, And dance with him in any dance he will Propose;
a minuet, hornpipe, or quadrille. 

Bel . There's many dancers too of great repute. 

Chassee. With them for precedence I dare dispute. 

Bel . You ought to know the art, 'tis very plain, As you the technic terms * of art explain. 

Chassee . I find you've read my bill by what you've said, In red and blue you'll see I've there
display'd, The different things I teach, and likewise those Named by those teachers who my
fame oppose: Mine is a kind of general depot For dances of all sorts, this the town well know,
My bills and cards their names and prices show. 

Bel . Your bills I've often noticed on the wall, Contain strange dances, and if you teach all
The odd new fangled things which you have named, No wonder that you've been so justly famed.

Chassee . Trifles! mere trifies! I know ten times more, In my next bills you'll find I'll name
a score, You've never heard of, nor have seen before. My cards and placards will my genius show,
And tell to learners what they ought to know. These bills will show what teachers ought to be,
This I'll assert, to which all must agree, None to perfection know the art but me; My bills contain
more terms of art than you, Or any other person ever knew; And so arranged, there's not two lines
alike, And all the leading features made to strike. 

Bel . You must allow a bill of fare's the least Substantial proof there will be a plenteouus feast;
'Tis not what's promised in a bill Of fare That we commend, but viands we find there; The more
there's said, the more the doubt's increased, The greatest promisers perform the least: 'Tis
so with many teachers, I well know, An instance of it I'll now plainly show. 

Chassee . Oh! wretches! true and palpable enough, Their bills are nothing but a glaring puff;
Read them; mark well ; * you'll find them quite absurd, My bills, the wretches copy word for word:
When I devise a bill that's something new, They imitate me, print in red and blue. For instance,
see a bill of theirs; here's mine. [ Produces bills 

See how I'm imitated line by line; They're so alike, 'tis only in the name They're different:
in fact, they seem the same. 

Bel . Such imitators should be brought to shame; I went to one that prints a flaming bill, And
promises the items to fulfil, And dares all teachers to contest his skill; I took his bill with
me, said, I'd contended, That he in dancing was what he pretended; Then from it chose some specimens
to try, Whether I could upon his bill rely. The great professor in a passion flew, Took snuff,
aped consequence, and cried "Sacre Dieu," Said I was sent by teachers he well knew. Not e'en
one single dance could I obtain, No proof or satisfaction could I again, Altho' I urged his credit
was at stake, He would not dance, but this excuse did make; First shrugged his shoulders, rubbed
hid hands, then said, "That such a strange request was never made, Of him whose talent never
was disputed, Nor such inquiries ever instituted;" He said those dances which I had proposed,
To him to dance, "were by himself composed, Which he would dance were he not indisposed." Thus
boaster like, when driven the test, Excused himself from all he had professed. 

Chassee . A usual practice which these teachers use, To gull the town and confidence abuse.

Bel . The bill I told him was as I expected, A puff, and he was what I had suspected, A boasting quack,
as I had long supposed, Whose impositions ought to be exposed: He all confusion; nothing more
could say, Turned on his heel, abruptly walked away. Just like the boasting traveller of old,
(Whose story AEsop has in fable told, * ) Who boasted he at Rhodes had often been, Had beat in leaping
all he had ever seen. (It should be told the Rhodians all were famed For leaping, and this he likewise
named) To make himself the more believed he swore, That all he said he'd prove, and ten times
more; But one, who was a Rhodian, rose and said, " I come from Rhodes, and now am not afraid, To
try with you immediately and see, If you're the person you pretend to be." This struck the boaster
dumb, he could not say A word, nor dare he try, but skulked away, Disgraced and shamed, as every
boaster ought, When in such falsehoods and such boastings caught. 

Chassee . These quacks, I've Challenged, aye, in every way, To dance with me, and their great
skill display; They dare not answer me, but skulk away: Afraid to meet me, as you may suppose,
These are the creatures, Miss, who me oppose. 

Bel . Creatures, indeed! compared with those who know G What dancing really is, and who can show
They've execution, judgment, taste, and skill, And can their public promise well fulfil.
A case in point their impudence will show, How they pretend to what they do not know; A friend
told me (on whom I can rely), That she proposed a minuet to try, * With one who prints "professor"
in his bill, 'Twas done to try the great professor's skill. With this proposal, he directly
closed, And took his place to dance, as was proposed; But, strange! he knew the minuet no more,
Than one who'd never seen the dance before, As he knew neither figures, steps, nor grace, For
when he moved 'twas always out of place: His feet seemed quite confused, and not to know Which
way to move, or where they ought to go: He watched his partner, scraped about the dance, And oft
receded when he should advance: At length the lady, quite disgusted, cried, "I see this dance,
Sir, you've not lately tried;" Then took her seat, and to herself exclaimed, "This to the' public
ought to be proclaimed." 

Chassee . These creatures I'd expose in every way, All these, I mean, who can't do what they say.

Bel . And so would I. Excuse me, but I've heard, Something respecting you that has occurred,
'Twas told to me by those well known to you. 

Chassee . The world's censorious! all we hear's not true. 

Bel . The other day I heard some persons state, That you've not opened your grand balls of late.

Chassee . With opening dances I have been quite cloyed. 

Bel . I'm told at several you were much annoyed. 

Chassee . I must confess, at one some time ago, Some envious wretched teachers whom I know, Were
rude enough to hiss, and to exclaim- "Observe, how shocking!-He pretend to fame! This proves
he dancing only knows by name." With other libellous strange things * that they Were base and
impudent enough to say, Thus to asperse a gentleman who has been To France, a professor whose
name is seen In every alley, corner, street or nook, And one who likewise lately made a book On
dancing, which at once will show, That I the art must practically know. Were I not now a teacher
of renown, This might do me an injury with the town. 

Bel . To some teachers, if such a thing took place, 'Twould serious prove, and bring them to disgrace;
But this and several circumstances more Of the same kind, I've heard you've had before; I mean
the case that happened at that ball Of yours you held in the great hall; I cannot recollect the
place or day, But 'tis the same you mean, from what you say: Pray let me hear from you how it occurred;
No doubt but I've exaggerations heard. 

Chassee . Oh! oh ! Mon Dieu ! 'tis scandal every word, Perverted thus, for calumny to handle,
We great professors are all born to scandal. The circumstance I'll on my honour state As it occurred,
I cannot exaggerate. While opening with a fine specimen dance, Where I pourtray'd some dances
de la France, My style and talents drew forth every praise, This did the envy of these teachers
raise, To hiss and make a noise; for they confess, They dread the humble merit I possess; It raised
their indignation thus to see, And hear such just applause bestowed on me. 

Bel . Was it applause from strangers or from friends? From whom or how it came so much depends.

Chassee . 'Twas alt from strangers, as I understand. My friends were neuter, didn't give a hand.

Bel . 'Twas very different as 'twas told to me. 

Chassee . Two of a trade you know can ne'er agree. 

Bel . So I've been often told, and I presume, That you're the great professor you assume; There's
something mere I heard the other night, If, 'tis mis-stated, you can set me right. 

Chassee . I am known for candour, no artifice conceal, Ev'n my own faults and failings I reveal.

Bel . Did you e'er join E. W. or Mr. T.? * Or e'er take lessons from a Mr. B.? 

Chassee . What! I take lessons from a sorry crew. Who only copy me.-Oh! Sacre Dieu!! With Norton
or with Aldgate House you'll find, I have no connection, not of any kind; To be convinced, you
my last bill should see, For there I've said these creatures copy me: I on myself alone rely for
fame, Do not with puny teachers mix my name. 

Bel . Do you to J-'s Well as usual go? And are you still with Mr. H. in Co? 

Chassee . Sacre Dieu ! I have Cut the Tensor long ago; Nor have I lately danced at J-'s W-Il As W-r
and the-can tell. 

Bel . None can dispute such known veracity, So famed for virtue and sagacity; Now, if you'd dance
a step or two to show, This lady your superior stile; I know If she approve, then, Sir, she'll
recommend. 

Jem . Real modest merit, I shall e'er befriend. G 3 

Chassee . My modesty and merit, I presume, Are real; nothing false do I assume; Mine is the fashionable
Stile you'll find, In which there,S grace and elegance combin'd; Here are some brilliant steps,
I trust you'll say, Which grace and execution both display. 

[ Dances in a wretched and affected stite . 

Jem . That is a stile, indeed! These steps would be I fear too difficult to teach to me. 

Chassee . I made those steps myself, to me alone. These brilliant graceful steps are only known;
I pledge myself my compositions are Original, with which none can compare. My dances will astonish,
* or I'm undone, Any lady or gentleman in London. I have a new method too, in which you'll find,
All other teachers methods are combined. 

Bel . You've doubtless, many masters had, to show. You all these methods, likewise all you know.

Chassee . My knowledge from instinct and real genius came, Not from such quacks as now aspire
to fame. For all they know, I at one glance could take; My Towzor he could better dances make;
These creatures can do little more than talk, Not one in ten know even how to walk; From me they-copy
all; to me they are Indebted, even for their bills of fare. 

Bel . Do you to their academies ever go?' As you their stile of dancing seem to know. 

Chassee . I, from their pupils, who now come to me, Acquire their methods, and by this, you see,
I all the knowledge of the town combine, With all those rare acquirements of mine For which I
am known throughout the universe, And future ages will my praise rehearse; This causes teachers,
who aspire to fame, To come to me to profit by my name. 

Bel . You must be skilled, why ev'n your bill of fare, Contains such things, as makes most people,
stare. 

Chassee . I fifty dances teach, not mentioned there, Besides those composition of my own, Which
are to the admiring town well known; I likewise have a new surprising dance, One which was lately
brought to me from France; If at my salle de you'll honour me With your presence, those dances
you shall see. 

Jem . You honour me, but, Sir, I must confess, I've really quite forgot your own address. 

Chassee . This card, Mademoiselle, does my address contain, * And all the various dances will
explain, Whether composed by me with those I teach, For general use, the term I give to each.
[ Presents card . 

Jem . Yours is a very handsome card address, The finest I have seen I must confess:- The arms,
too! Well! really I am surprised! And then by royalty you're patronized. 

Chassee . I have that honour, and am proud to say I merit it: the reward's not thrown away: I trust
my merit in quadrilles alone, Has made me to the dancing would well known. 

Bel , I've heard quadrilles are every night danced here, If so, I very awkward shall appear.

Chassee . Do you know-" La chaine, des dames et Chassee croissee, Chassee ouvert, queu du chat
et ballancez. * 

Bel . I cannot say I understand them all, Although I danced them once at Almack's ball, I wish
you would, Sir, just perform L'Ete, And that will better put me in the way. 

Chassee . With pleasure, a quadrille I now will dance, With any in this country or in France.

Bel . None can dispute it, Sir, you're very kind. 

Chassee . This is the figure and the steps combin'd. 

[Dances L'Ete. Belinda and Jemima laugh aside , 

Bel . Thank you, sir. Now, Jemima, try my dear! How you can do it, for you need not fear Mr. Chassee;
I'm sure, he will excuse Your dancing. Come, Jemima, don't refuse. 

Chassee . Don't be afraid, Miss. Come, now, let me see, 'Tis not expected you should dance like
me; From one, like you, Miss, I cannot expect, Great execution, grace, or stage effect. In dancing,
there's but very few excel; 

Bel . I've many teachers seen, who can't dance well. 

Chassee . Very true, Miss, there's many great impostors, Who always call themselves great
dancing masters. 

Bel . In their exposure, I should take delight, 'Twould serve such barefaced gross impostors
right. 

Chassee . If I could see them well exposed, 'twould be The greatest pleasure you could give to
me. [ To Jemima .] Now, try the dance, Miss, do not hesitate, That you may learn it well, and imitate
My grace and manners: I will once again Dance it over, 'twill make it clear and plain; Then, give
me your, opinion, and observe, Speak what you really think without reserve. 

Jem . At your request I shall speak out my mind, A flatterer, sir, me, you'll never, find; For
flattery Often makes bad dancers vain. 

Chassee . Don't flatter, me, for flattery I disdain. 

Jem . Of that you'll have no reason, to complain. 

[ Chassee dances; Jemima imitates . 

Chassee . That is the modern fashionable style; Now, Miss, begin, I'll tune to you the while.

[ Jemima dances; Chassee surprised and confused . 

Jem . Now, Sir, excuse the liberty I take, I've on your dancing some remarks to make, I'll stand
corrected, if I cannot show, That something of the art I really know I've been at dancing since
six years of age, And have for years had practice on the stage, From false' positions all your
steps you take; Third for fifth, and when the ballote you make, Your feet are so confined with
turned up toes, That 'tis ballote, none could suppose; Your arms ungraceful then you bend your
back And head, when dancing, like a half filled sack, You shake and wriggle, jerk about and swing,
Like children's, puppets which they play with string; If such your manner, taste, and execution,
Woe be to those who are under your tuition. 

[ Chassee walks about agitated taking snuff . 

Chassee Mercy! here's scandal, you're employed by those, Poor envious teachers, who my fame
oppose. 

Jem . And, likewise, Sir, I've heard with some surprise, You can't perform one half you advertise;
To prove it scandal, you, no doubt, will show, That, you these dances accurately know; Here,
from your card, Sir, now suppose we take, The first three dances, and a trial make. 

[ Takes out a card . 

Chassee . Madam! I'll stay no longer in this place, As your transcendant merit would disgrace,
By daring a professor to impeach, To say that I can neither dance nor teach, Is quite libellous,
and to my face, too, To name my faults, O! sacre Dieu ! How dare you, Miss, such vague opinions
give? Such, impudence I never will forgive. 

Jem . Now, pray, sir, stay, give us another dance, One of those novelties you had from France.

[ Exit Chassee in a rage . 

Bel . Ha ! ha ! ha ! I said you soon would-see, How well his words and actions do agree, He's a fair
specimen of the same kind, Like him with ease I fifty more could find I wish they were exposed
a little more. 

Jem . Of quacks, like these, I'd put to flight a Score. * There's one who keeps a gallimaufry hop,
Thinks all his gagging brethren to o'ertop, Sends forth a bill of fare, "comme un Francois,"
Not to bring folks to dance, but fools to pay. "Academic Royale" meets the wand'ring eye, And
"PARIS" stands in capitals just by. To read the wording of his bill of fare, You'd think it came
from Vestris or Albert. But what surprise, when once you see the name-. 'Tis one who's long been
kicked about by Fame; Who has been treated like a common w-, And, at Fame's temple, skulks about
the door: Nor has he chance of getting in, till he Give up his dancing gallimaufry, And act consistent
with his bill of fare, And rigidly fulfil all he says there, Or else "Academie Royale" shall
erase, To save his credit, and avoid disgrace. You might suppose, by items in his bill, That
he had really scientific skill, And taught upon the rules which are laid down By Coulon * and
such masters of renown; But our professor, whatever he may say, Teaches his pupils in a different
way. He never means his promise to fulfill, And laughs at fools who would believe his bill. He
from exposure never stands in awe, And what he says or prints don't care a straw. When strangers
call, they're plied with technic phrases, And his dear self he lauds with lots of praises, Those
strangers who go there, and hope to see Dancing, as at the French Academy, Will be mistaken:
our professor's plan Is "hop and go forward," get thro' how you can. No turning at the handle
or the knees , To gain command, that attitudes may please; H No bettements made there, either
close or grand, From which the hips and knees may gain command. From pain in pointing toes, none
make wry faces, For they stick up and sin against the graces; As in these matters he's not very
nice, And never goes by rules, or takes advice, Notes Coulon, with his discerning eye, Corrects
the foot, should it be placed awry, And rights the head, should it too much incline, And moves
the figure, if too serpentine, Who notices if lips or chin project, Directs the eye, to give
the whole effect; But our professor is not quite so nice, He neither gives nor takes Coulon's
advice, And cares not for the motion of the eyes, Nor if the chest in due proportion rise, Feels
no sensation, if the month's drawn in, Or lips pout out, or they extend the chin. If pupils stand
like Popes * in their position, Both stiff and graceless, he feels no contrition. If they in
pirouettes should hop like geese, It don't disturb the great professor's peace, If wrists
are bent, and elbows angular, And fingers stick out quite triangular, He would not faint at
the disgraceful sight, Alike to him whether they're wrong or right. In entrechats, if they
should rap their heels, Or bend their knees, he no compunction feels. If attitudes don't correspond
with looks, If arms and fingers hang like butcher's hooks, If knees are so turned in, they rub
together, As poplar branches do in windy weather. Professor cares not, they may hop away, And
uncontrolled deformity display. If they in making pirouettes should fall, And hop just like
a cat to catch her tail, Or run about, and silly freaks display, Like sweeps who frisk it on the
first of May, Professor cares not, if they do but pay. He's not ashamed of trickery or fraud,
But has a conscience like a carted b-d. To see Coulon, he knows there is no danger, Who has to London
been for years a stranger, But Monsieur Boisgerard * might chance go there, (Attracted by professor's
bill of fare,) To analyze this "Royale Academic," And learn if 'tis what it is said to be. He knows
the various methods of Coulon, And on that plan he teaches 'tis well known, And well explain
the technic of art, And scientific knowledge can impart- Whose taste and skill have been approved
by all, Who tread the stage, or figure at the ball: His genius and his judgment none dispute,
Except some quacks beneath him to refute. 

Belinda , You've,said enough to make a dancer vain. Were I his,-I really should complain, And
almost, think' what some old ladies say, "There's something more than friendship in the way."

Jemima . You're quite mistaken, that you may rely I only speak of him professionally, And have
with some reluctance given the name, As there are other candidates for fame . Whose talents
merit more than I can say, And who they are I'll name some other day; For I'm not fond of flattery
or praising, Nor of great expectation falsely raising, And have been with those cautious maxims
bred, "Never to praise folk's merit, till they're dead." Which suits not our professors, for
these elves Can't wait that time, but boldly praise themselves. You'd be mistaken, if you thought
to see This boaster awed by innate modesty. He has not the retiring modest grace, That fears
to look great talents in the face, Nor innate modesty, that's always shown, By praising all
men's merits hut his own; But one who will presume to take his place, Where modest talent scarce
could show its face; As a composer would himself Compare, And ev'n dispute with D'Egville.
* or Aumer . 

Belinda . What! has he effrontery to advance, He can compose, or with those masters dance? 

Jemima . Though he may not excell Le Blond in flying, He'll beat him, aye, and all the world, in
lying: Not sylph like Ronzi's light fantastic toe, Nor classic Julia , nor agile Le Gross **
, Nor even Noblet's pure attic grace, Would make professor hide his shameless face; For be is
deaf as well as blind to shame, And only knows it as he knows his name. His envy and his prejudice,
you'll find, Make him to dancers' merits always blind. He sees no execution or effect in Byrn
* , Nor can he Noble's ease and grace discern. 

END OF THE FIRST PART. THE DANCIAD; OR, DANCERES MONITOR. PART II. 

Others there are, Whom I need hardly name, As imitators hope to raise their fame; Who think "
Composer" has a cheering sound, And that "Inventor" is still more profound; That these two
phrases in a bill of fare Will strike with awe, and make the groundlings stare! That all the world
will then a deference pay, And take for granted all they do and say; And think they've really
mathematic skill, And read, with wonder, items in their bill. They give their dances names
to gain eclat, Which vulgar people say, "will crack your jaw" To what originally bore another
name, To call their own, Professors feel no shame, So alter names and the invention claim. *
They'll mangle and new christen some old dance, Then say they made it, or it came from France;
And give it some strange title, new and rare, To make fools wonder and old women stare; As gaging
players strive the house to fill By making striking features in their bill From some performance
take a dance or song, Mention the piece to which it did belong, And print the name thereof in such
a way, To make you think the whole they meant to play; But print so small the words of "song and
dance," To see them, purblind readers have no chance. So our Professors their strange names
display, And trust to catching fools a similar way. 

Belinda . They may catch those who on the surface creep, Who never look for meanings very deep;
Your horn book critics, who spell every word, Who misconceive, and state things quite absurd
Who in their own opinions are so rooted They will persist, if laughed at, scorned and hooted.

Jemima . To tricks and stratagems of every sort, However mean or stale, these quacks resort;
Their bills are worded quite equivocal, And many of them enigmatical; They oft say one thing;
while they mean another, 

Bel . As one quack says, so says his modest brother. 

Jem . Nothing's too little or too mean to steal, For want of genius, they'll nick name a reel,
And give it same strange French, or mongrel name, To make folks think it new and not the same,
* Anti add it to the list of their inventions, But what it was Professor never mentions. In order
that these dances may go down, And that they may pass current with the town; They say they're
danced by persons of renown. Like Country Dance Collections, said to be "Danced by the Court
and First Nobility, "Likewise at Bath and Almack's," tho' 'tis known That petty hops such dances
would disown; As few are tried, and others not e'en read, But from Composer's pen at once fall
dead. To see or read these dances any where, Except in the Composer's hill of fare, Credulity
herself would e'en despair. They for a Patron's name sometimes petition, But get refused,
then print without permission; For taste and talent all these Wights disown, 

Bel . But shame's to them a quality unknown; So praise their dances as in great repute, Well knowing
none With quacks will e'er dispute, And hope their words, if in Italic print, Will current pass,
like Sovereigns from the Mint: They know what's praised, too many will believe, Is what it should
be, and themselves deceive. 

Jem . You know some praise what they dont comprehend, And fool with fool in folly will contend;
Like some, who call Italian Operas fine, Who have no taste, nor understand a line: To whom you
might as Well recite in Greek, Instead of Pasta, * pigs to them should squeak; Yet they'll cry
"bravo," praise the bill of fare, But relish music like a dancing bear; Who, when he dances to
the pipe and tabor, The dancing master bruin mast belabour. You know what's praised by persons
of renown Is likewise praised by all the fools in town; Not that they've read or seen, nor can
they shew They've reasons for it, but that - said so; They dare not contradict, lest some should
doubt, They wanted taste and their weak side find out, Who never give opinions till they've
learned, The town have these opinions first confirmed; When such as those read our Professor's
bill, They think strange items proofs of taste and skill, Like some who hieroglyphics can't
make out, Cry "these mean something wonderful, no doubt." 

Bel . Our stage purveyors on this folly feed, So give some pieces names which few can read; As
they find Coptic or some Hieroglyphic, To gather fools attractive and prolific, And bring
them lots of flats to pay and stare, Who come away, as wise as they went there; Such are the wise-acres
who go to those, Who strange and gagging bills of fare compose; From numerous readers some believers
come, Who follow as poor children do a drum: Who take for granted all they hear and see, And think
Professor what he ought to be; Who dance and pay, and never once suspect Professor's want, or
they want intellect; Who ne'er discover right or wrong they do, But seem delighted, if they're
told 'tis new; So these Professors dances try to make, Or else from some Composer dances take.
No wonder they should praise those things they teach, When of themselves so modestly they preach;
For I have seen a Teacher's bill of fare That would make all good modest people stare; For the
Professor is so hyperbolic, To read it would give modesty the cholic; From Chrononhotonthologos,
you'd say, He copied phrases bombast to display; In pompous terms he makes the first advance,
And says, he teaches as they do in France, Upon the plan of "l'Academie Royal," * That's so well
known it dont require a trial, And trusts Chat his Academie alone Is where the Art is to perfection
known; Says in his rare establishment you'll find, Facilities of all and every kind; That,
to enumerate them all, 'twould be Almost next to an impossibility. But cannot prove its fame's
encreased by years, For twenty moons at most its age appears; Then says, he'll teach (how cheering
to the dunce) In six short lessons, what would take six months: He next proclaims, tho' not with
modest grace, What some folks think a little out of place, What Vestris would he quite ashamed
to say, Or any other man in such a way: He tells you he has great "urbanity" And "assiduity" (hearen
bless his modesty), For that almost exceeds his vanity; Talks of "establishment" and great
facilities, That his well known professional abilities Are now acknowledged both by old and
young. 

Bel . And may perhaps in doggrel verse be sung. 

Jem . He, like some actors I've known on the stage, Boasts "he has gained extensive patronage;"
Yet never tells you who these patrons are, But still sends out new tricking' bills of fare. One
democratic rogue well known to you, Proclaims his Ball, but cheats the revenue; No advertising
duty will he pay, Neither in bills does he his name display, But takes a cheaper way t' announce
his Ball, Like Dr. Eady, chalks it on the wall; His only trouble is a lengthy walk, And his expence
one pennyworth of chalk. 

Bel . This he admits; but Says, that meaner things Are now performed by princes and by kings.
13 

Jem . There's now a King, * as foolish as you'd wish, Sits in the market selling "stinking fish,"
With cap and apron on, he makes a crony, Of every flattering idle lazaroni, With whom he laughs
and talks, awhile he stands And eats of onions from their dirty hands; And will at times a cruel
monster be, By throwing lazaroni in the sea. 

Bel . 'Tis fair to state to those who do complain, He plunges in, and brings them out again. 

Jem . When at the Opera, he sometimes thinks fit, To scald his subjects sitting in the pit, With
boiling macaroni thrown on those, Who in the pit the audience compose; Eats with his hands,
takes neither fork nor spoon, And licks his greasy paws, like some baboon: Then there's Prince
- who does strange customs use, Sometimes kills hogs, and forges horses shoes; And what's mere
strange, perhaps to gain eclat, When he eats hog's flesh, likes it hot and raw. I could give more
such royal examples, But these I trust will now suffice as samples Of what great people sometimes
do and say, And how their taste and folly they display; We know that bad examples have great weight,
If they from church or state should emanate, And our Professor in defence may bring, Some foolish
act, done by some foolish king. Many of these new dancing Jerm'y Diddlers, Are nothing more
than sorry green hag fiddlers. 

Bel . You should say blue bag, as green's discarded, For carrying tales, which were so disregarded.

Jem . They Artists * call themselves, their practice is By them called "study"-nay-I do not
quiz- f they can't dance, I'll prove their vanity Is little short of sheer insanity. These terms
they take from some who come from France, They're quite absurd in those who cannot dance. You'll
easy know what calling they profess, If you observe their manners, gait, and dress. Long frill,
high collar, ring, and bunch of seals, And boy with crowdy dangling at their heels; When thus
equipped, they strut, like bantam cocks, And walk as if they just had left the stocks: Of affectation
they've a decent stock, For at their doors you're told to "ring and knock." 

Bel . One in a fray had his false collar tore, He to that shirt had twelve false collars wore. 

Jem . In dress as well as manners be it said, A revolution has been lately made. 

Bel . The sober black with breeches they disuse, Likewise the buckles in the knees and shoes;
They now wear colours, strings, and trowsers wide, Which, with their own, would hold two legs
beside; The leg and uncle requisite to see, And when to straighten or to bend the knee Cannot
be seen-these modern sacks conceal Both knee and uncle, likewise toe and heel. 

Jem. Their conversation you cannot compare, With what has passed 'twixt Congreve and Voltaire;
Or 'twixt Aspasia and great Socrates, Which did the hearers both instruct and please. But is
composed of Tom and Jerry * flash, For wit they substitute low batderdash. Their technic slang
is, "Well, how goes the Shop?" Not "How goes business; but how goes the hop?" 

Bel . I could name four Professors, who for slang, Would outdo "Logic,".-"Bob," or "Mother
Bang," They think, if they some broken French can gabble, And scrape a kit, they'll pass off
with the rabble, Who take for granted, or like fools pretend To understand what they can't comprehend.
They're stiff in gait, their heads they graceless toss, And nod and bridle like a Lord Mayor's
horse; Shrug up the;r shoulders, kick about just so, ( imitating ) And grin like, monkeys dressed
up at a show. 

Jem . Professor Chassee, I forgot to state, Has put his phiz on a new copper plate, His cheek by
jowl concern being out of date. He's on his face determined to rely, Lest with his Works his name
with him should die; As children have a cut to shew the ass, So he sends portraits to the adult
class They're sent to huxters, green shops, nay to all, As invitation tickets to his ball. 

Bel . Tell me, is this Professor's vanity, Or proof of folly or insanity? 

Jem . You know they're all thought vain conceited elves, Who print and put forth portraits of
themselves: He from Quack Doctors took the hint; for they Each print a book and their dear phiz
display; They're not all pupils at his rooms you see, For most of them go there gratuitously;
Each shopkeeper that posts his bill of fare, Is gratis with his friends admitted there. Those
who attend have little chance to know, Who are the guests that to his dances go; For tickets are
transferred, aye ten times o'er, And some I'm told, have changed hands with a score: Then he
bids huxters not themselves confine, But if they want more tickets, drop a line. And they shall
be supplied, they may depend, With tickets to admit themselves and friend. 

Bel . A circular and ticket for the hop, I had from our green grocer, Turnip Top. 

Jem . Who ever heard of Graces, more than three? Yet one Professor, * (who must nameless be) Has
made seven graces, and will these impart To every one who comes to learn his art. 

Bel . To wrong construe it would he quite unkind, Perhaps, he means the graces of the mind. 

Jem . These are not Graces our Professor handles, His inward light will never save him candles.

Bel . His outward Graces, if I'm not mistaken, If called in question will not save his bacon.

Jem . There's one Professor dwells not far from hence, Who scoffs at Dancers for their want of
sense; Tho' he his rivals' faults so plainly sees, Is not himself a perfect Socrates; He wonders
flies can on the ceiling walk, And thinks old cats do in their amours talk; And asks if fleas lay
eggs, or spawn like frogs, If such as live in blankets breed in dogs: He wonders cats make camel
backs and beg, And why geese stand and fowls roost on one leg: And often asks what makes the smoke
ascend, And if the Death-watch does not Death portend; What makes cats, and pigs run serpentine,
And why old Ladies gin prefer to wine; Asks why cock sparrows are so amorous, And gadding tabbies
always clamorous: Fancies he in the fire plainly sees Faces and churches, cottages and trees,
A thousand more such fancies he maintains, Yet he of others want of sense complains. 

Bel . You must excuse him, for there now exist, Others who're neither Wits, nor Casnists; Of
Metaphysics have as little knowledge, As some M. P.'s who're lately come from College. They
know no more of Hume, Des Cartes, * or Locke, Than if each head had been a Barber's block. 

Jem . He laughs at all the childish things he sees, And feels delight to search his cat for fleas;
Ev'n Rabelais' Bishop, who made sport with wigs, And died with laughter when the ass ate figs,
Was not more foolish, I'll engage to say, Than our Professor is in his own way; Like Heliogabulus,
it seems, this elf Has tried how silly he can make himself; He boasts of talent in another way,
Not dancing only, but in feats of play: He quits the stocks to play with childish toys, Leaves
chassees to blow babbles with the boys; And makes Turks' caps, and pigs and geese with paper,
And says, he taught an old tom eat to caper: He'll doubtless for excuse, say this and that, And
cites Montaigne, as playing with his cat. 

Bel . He cite Montaigne! The notion is absurd, By him that Author's name was, never heard. One
Dancing Author, long since lost to shame, Still strives in print to publish his own fame; For
tho' he's been so scooted by the Muses, He still writes on, and good advice refuses He takes from
others, no compunction feels, But the real Author's name with care cone conceals, And puts
his own, to what he slily steals. To say that he's an improvisatore, Would really be what ladies
call a story; You might as soon a comet hope to see, As our Professor rhime extempore. 

Jem . Tho' he to taste and verse has no pretence, You must allow he has some common sense ; His wit
and stories, when you hear their source, Perhaps yon'll say, are rather trite and coarse; 'Tis
not from "Congreve," Rabelais, or Swift, He brings his wit, to give his tales a lift But takes
his stories from the "New Care Killer:" * And all his wit and jokes from Old Joe Miller: And these
serve well to retail out to those, Who our professor's company compose; Who laugh at jokes,
however dull and trite, And listen to Joe Miller with delight. 

Bel . Hop Merchant is a term with which these elves, Tho' 'tis sarcastic, often dub themselves;
The term they think sounds well, and tho' a quiz, Know few can tell them what the difference is,
'Twixt arts, trades, callings, and the sciences. Nay, some I'm told believe, who cannot dance,
That steps, like goods, we now import from France: Merchant was once a term of such renown, That
had great weight and influence with the town; But now has lost its weight and consequence, And
dwindled into insignificance. Merchant's a term now every ragman uses, 

Jem . Merchant's a term that every rogue abuses. Some write, "Potato Merchant," nay, there's
many Of these great merchants cry, "three pounds a penny," The Coal-man now; who measures half
a peck, Thinks merchant will his sooty calling deck; Writes up, "Coal Merchant," tho' he cannot
boast He ever sold a bushel at the most. 

Bel . They treat with scorn the adage you well know, Which says, "you first should creep before
you go." Few traders on propriety depend, But make beginnings, where they all should end: Some
will great titles to themselves apply, And on their impudence for fame rely; They all write
up, as you may plainly see, Not what they are, but what they wish to be; Each hedge stick chopper,
and joint-stool maker, Now writes up, "Carpenter and Undertaker:" A pop-gun maker, tho' on
Saffron-hill, Will write up "Builder," to proclaim his skill. Each sorry cat-gut scraper
writes, "Musician," And each quack doctor stiles himself "Physician:" Each on himself some
title will confer, The petty-fogger's "a Solicitor;" Which he writes up, his rivals to excel,
And tho' no clients, has an "office bell." To credit all we see, and all we're told, And think
all's true that's wrote in blue and gold, Would be so paradoxical, that few Without more proof,
would e'er believe it true. (I mean such persons as well know the ways And tricks of trade, and
customs of our days.) There's "Working Cutlers," who ne'er used a tool, And "real Hat-makers"
qualified at school; There's Hosiers now, by way of a deceiver, Place at their door, for show,
a stocking weaver: To make fools think, and likewise others tell, They manufacture all the
goods they sell. There's many sale shops this device prefer, Tho' nothing make, write "Manufacturer."
The retail dealer, without' hesitation, Now "Wholesale" writes, and "goods for exportation:"
He talks of duties, in voices of trade, And bills of lading which he never made. 

Jem . I've Wholesale Dealers known, (the truth may shock,) That with a Sovereign you might buy
their stock: Each puny Grocer has his Mandarin, Or else some painted tea chest to be seen; Hopes
these devises will great sales announce, Tho' these great "Hongs," * ne'er weighed beyond
an ounce. Each petty trader uses sounding; phrases, Cries down his rivals, and himself bepraises.
Read their professions-nay, if each could, paint, His rival would he Satan; he, a Saint. Of
unexampled patronage he boasts, Yet putS fresh bills on houses, walls, and posts, And thrice
a year he cards of business sends, "To inform the Public and his numerous Friends;" (The modest
soul in them, "begs leave to say,") "That he mends kettles in the usual way:" To hear them talk,
you never would suppose, They ever would, or ever could impose. Like some M. P.'s, who when they
canvas, swear That their constituents' interest is their care But when returned by them, and
snug in place, They find their friend has got another face: So with some traders,-when you buy,
are civil, But go to change, they wish you at the devil; When you complain, they sometimes' will
declare, They know you not, nor were the goods bought there: They all sell good and cheap, nay,
each declares, He'll challenge all the Town to match his wares: Invite a trial, offer to compete
With all the world, and thus they hide the cheat: Each hopes that all who read his bill believes
That he's a Saint; and all the rest are thieves; K Yet will delight his neighbour's weights to
chop, Although he sells short weight at his own shop, In marking goods, the shillings large
they paint, The pence and fractions write with pencil faint; The things they mark, they seldom
mean to sell, But show you goods they say will do as well: If you insist, another tale you're told,
"They would with pleasure, but those goods are sold." The plan's to get you in and there to try,
By some finesse, if they can make you buy. * 

Bel . The tricks-in trade which you to me impart, Would be disgraceful in the polite art; And
such professors ought to be ashamed, Who would the authors of such tricks be named, As 'tis degrading,
when they imitate What they professionally should reprobate; For in opinion great distinction's
made 'Twixt artists and the tricking sons of trade. 

Jem . Of honesty in trade no one believes, As Mercury is the god of trade and thieves. 

Bel . The tricking Merchant does his windows dull, And has bill boxes Johnny Bull to gull, "Bills
for Acceptance" is on one inscribed, From whom, or what they are, can't be described; Another
box, to show he's justin trade, Will meet your eyes, on which is wrote "bills paid." This they
conceive will confidence encrease, And will with doubtful traders make their peace: There
"Counting-house," well written, meets your eye, With empty Ledgers piled up six feet high;
And at the door, to give the thing eclat, Are tubs of stones, and packages of straw. The needy
lawyer powders and looks big, And hopes in time to have a gown and wig; Tho' without clients,
and unknown in Court, And terms all end and he makes no report, Has clerk and of office and a letter-box
And inner door to drown n intrussive knocks, He writes up Offices and bell, Tho' without business,
thinks the term sounds well; Has boxes marked with names, and places in view; Of noble Clients
whom he never knew; And papers tied with tape and placed for show, Of Plaintiffs DOE, and versus
RICHARD ROE. If Clients call, then business will pretend, Take out draft papers, and his pens
he'll mend, And ask his clerk if Thompson does defend. To know the person he calls. Mr. Thompson
, You may as well enquire of Mons. Tonson ; * Bat when they're gone, the Clerk and Mr.Flaw Take
draughts of Intire, and leave drafts of Law. Those who by chance have been to take their drops
At retail Wine Vaults, or at some Gin Shops, Must have observed the systematic way In which they
kegs and empty tubs display If not all empty, few have much merit, As they are filled with water,
not with spirit. Like broken tea cups, they're set up for show- Sometimes "OLD TOM's" above,
and "X" below, And "Double XX" the largest tub will grace, And mighty "SAMPSON" stares you in
the face. These doughty heroes, tho' they're large and, tall, Are harmless as the Giants in
Guildhall; And if you try, you'll find these filled within With "THAMES Intire," instead of
"BOOTH's best Gin:" From "WELLINGTON" you have not much to dread, As his 'munition's from "NEW
RIVER HEAD." Their names would, fright a Frenchman from the bar, As "NELSON, WATERLOO, and
TRAFALGAR;" And many others popular in song, Which no way prove their liquor good or strong.
Ask them why they have named them in this way? " Others have done the same," these people say:
For reason and propriety, you'll find, Are qualities to which they're mostly blind. 

Jem . In trade, as dancing, it can't be denied, That words and meanings oft are misapplied: 'Tis
not from accidents these slips are made, But thro' design, for all's thought fair in trade.

Bel . To live in faith, we find it to our cost, For every true believer now is lost, As what we hear
and see can't be believed, For eyes and earn are constantly deceived. Fruit's always fine,
and poultry ever young, And ladies always fair, whose praise is sung; Milk's genuine from the
cow and always new, The' water'd thrice, and made to took sky blue; Wine's always neat, tho'
it be mixed with sloes, And genuine tea in England often grows We've fish alive that died a week
or more, And new-laid eggs we've seen a month before There's wheaten bread from 'tatoes sold
in shops, And real Intire made sans malt or hops: In usual customs too there's lately been A revolution,
may be plainly seen- All's now refined, affected, and genteel, E'en thieves are now ashamed
in rags to steal; Beggars no longer thrive by being in rags, And matches now are sold from lawyers
bags: The porter now becomes a man of taste, Wears monstrous trowsers pucker'd at the waist,
Carries a snuff box, sports a ring and broach- On Sunday treats his lady with a coach: The Sandy
clerk, who'll hardly take a note, Carries his weekly wash beneath his coat: To sweep the shop,
some shopmen will refuse, Who are at home obliged to black their shoes The printed card the porter
now disuses, And "Mr." now instead of "John" he chuses: Street fiddlers have a copper-plate
address, And dustmen now gentility profess Shopmen to write "Esq." feel no shame, And Courtezans
take some romantic name. You're not to judge from what you hear or see, For people are not what
they seem to be; In hackney'd terms, they bills and placards word, And many of them foolish and
absurd: Some "to the Public do their thanks return, For patronage" which they could ne'er discern,
Which has been so extensively obtained, And beg continuance of these favours gained- Tho'
they've such "numerous Friends," oft, with surprize, In the Gazette these traders meet your
eyes. Some "flatter themselves" (for that's the usual phrase," That empty traders use themselves
to praise) "They'll sell you goods" (now mark me, here's the catch) "For price and quality that
none can match:" "To serve you cheap," some say 'tis their intent, "And under prime cost sell
full ten per Cent;" To hide the trick this notice they subjoin, "They're leaving business for
some Other Fine;" Or else to gull each passing empty block, "They're selling-off to buy in some
new Stock." There's traders who've for years "sold under cost,'" Who seem to thrive by what
they say they've lost They surely only such good souls deceive, Who live in faith, and all they
read believe. All are not bargains, tho' they may appear, For many buy good pennyworths too
dear. Read all their cards, from merchant to the sweep, They all profess to serve you "good and
cheap;" "Reasonable terms and punctuality," Are words they use without Sincerity. The man
of wax is punctual, so he says, Altho' he keeps your shoes to mend, ten days. 

Jem . Punctuality is sometimes taken ill, I mean when traders promptly bring their bill. K3
Tho' we've in traders pointed out deceptions, Yet I know some for whom I'll plead exceptions;
One's turned reformer, and, sets good examples Of honesty, and serves you from the samples.

Bel . That's as it should be, for you this well know, They mostly sell you what they, do not show.
The tricks of traders have of late increased, In every way, from greatest to the least; There's
Bankers now, for Mistresses keep houses Who have at home conscious honest spouses, Who keep
fools money for then, (so they, say), But when they want it, break, or run away, And leave poor
John to stare and scratch his pate, And make like fools, his cautious plans too late: Like some
who caution never took before- When " Dobbin's lost, they shut the stable door." Some Blacking
Makers have their house in print, And portrait like as. George's from the Mint; To make you think
they're in a thriving way, They in the back and fore ground trade display; Have loaded porters
is issuing from their floors, And ships seen freighting; to some distant shores Each from the
print, hopes readers will infer, He Merchant is, and Manufacturer. Traders, like Dancers,
will not hesitate To steal a name, or some one personate: You know the proverb we in Shakespeare
read, "Who steals my purse makes-me quite poor indeed." When any one acquires great wealth
or fame, Some imitator will assume the name Or else conceal his own, and only show The name he
imitates, whom all well know, And paint it large to catch the passers by, And "as" or "from" too
small to meet the eye, With this belief, hopes strangers will walk in, And think they deal with
"Todd" not "Manikin;" If you complain and prove you've been mistaken, They shew the little
"as" to save their bacon. * In trades and callings, and in every art, They something new and wonderful
impart: 'Tis not to Dancing only we're confin'd, But have strange projects now of every kind,
E'en stones can't now lie quiet in the street, (1) For they Mac Adamizing foes now meet; From
Richmond you'll have water for your tea, (2) And London's to be watered from the Sea; (3) And
bridges tall as trees, to cross the deep, (4) And under Rivers we like moles may creep; (5) Balloons
will shortly navigate the sky, (6) And loaded waggons with the mail will vie; Now on the main,
Columbian castles float, * And in Steam Coaches-there's a table d'hote, (7) Where not as usual,
cranimed up toes to toes, But room to promenade, and take repose. Not projects only, but there's
lately been Strange things achieved, of which we've heard and seen They now move houses furnished
and entire, With no more shock than whim you stir the fire; A Nail machine (some say the devil's
in it) I'm told will make 10,000 nails a minute; Fire-eaters now cool porridge with their breath,
And we've stone-eaters, nearly starved to death. 

The subjects mentioned at figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7, allude to the projected improvements
now going on. 

The soldier's humane trade must soon expire, As they by steam kill thousands at one fire; And
many other things not less surprising We hear of, and see daily advertising. 

Bel . Pray now inform me, is the reason known, Why Dancing Masters have so numerous grown? 

Jem . Because some keep a coach, and rise to fame, Each new pretender hopes to do the same, And
likewise add "Professor" to his name, With hopes like these Professors multiply, And in professions
with each other, vie; Fiddlers and players in the art engage, And those who sweep the ball room
and the stage; A dance in wooden shoes, or clogs, or fetters, Now qualify a clown * to teach his
betters. Read the professions of each stage-buffoon, Who'll teach you grace, tho' he's a pantaloon;
You'll find each sorry down, who makes wry faces, Puts out his card as kind with the graces; They
think if they wry faces can impart, They're qualified to teach the polite art. There's one thing
certain, each teaching Zany Makes out the adage, that "one fool makes many;" They gain professorships
without degrees, And office take, sans talent, taste, or fees. 'Tis not those teachers only
that I blame, But many private persons I could name. Who countenance such quacks, and aid their
views. By which they public confidence abuse; Who know these teachers plans are to impose On
all who in them confidence repose. 

Bel . Many who've been too obstinate to learn, Go to such teachers who can't faults discern,
Or if they do, their interest you will find, To faults and errors, always makes them blind; Ability
is not what they request- Pay the admission-you,'re a welcome guest To run, and kick, and flounce
about at ease And make yourself as foolish as you, please; This they call "Dancing," and this,
they say Is good amusement, and for this they pay. 

Jem . At some of their Great Balls", I have seen Such odd fantastic dancing, I have seen, That
neither rule nor reason could devise, Such stuff as all good dancer's must surprize. 

Bel . There's persons that will any nonsense call Dancing, and every. petty hop "a Ball." At
these mock Balls, in the same dance you'll find, Styles of all sorts, and steps of every kind;
They stamp and scrape, and kick about and skuffle- Some jump, some rap their heels, whilst others
shuffle; Not two alike-you'd think them strangers hurled Together from all countries in the
World. 

Jem . Call a Quadrille, all scramble for a place, And few but would the post of honor grace, Perhaps
I should say, would themselves disgrace. I've seen kind souls with wrinkles and grey hairs,
Who couldn't so much as recollect their prayers, Presume to lead, and the Quadrilles direct,
Where thirty figures they should recollect; * They've this advantage-as you mostly find In
such form'd sets, the blind there lead the blind. 

Bel . With such directors, I'm induced to ask, How do such dancers there perform their task?
Call up a set-then each his book prepares, And cons his task, as children do their prayers; With
book in hand, like boys called up to read, They stand and cut a sorry sight indeed; They reading
stand, till half the strain is done, Then in their fright, like bunted rabbits run; And if by
chance, they finish with the strain, In their confusion, lose the time again. I've oft observed
that when the music stop, Some would-be Dancers, have not ceased to hop: Leaders should know
the figures well by heart, And to the set correctly them impart. But I've seen those by whom the
dance was led, Who have not had two figures in their head: Of those who take the lead, not one in
twenty, Bat prove, When tried, their upper story's empty; Those horn book dancers, charitable
elves, Will teach you what they do not know themselves; They misconstrue the technic terms
of art, And read that wrong; which they should know by heart; Yet will advise, dictate-nay,
some advance, That they've cut capers at the Balls in France. 

Bel . How must good dancers laugh at such appeals, When they survey their sorry heads and heels;
The old first set and Lancers, now is all You may expect danced at a Public Ball; Irish or Scotch
in vain may be proposed, As what's not known is sure to be opposed; And if they're called, they're
danced so very They run like pigs when drove against their will; Many from pride, won't own that
they don't know, But headlong they in wrong directions go; They to the band for various sets
will call, Yet dance the figures of the first to all: How this occurs, we have good reasons why,
As they are all they know, and all they try. 

Jem . Dancing must now be certainly refined, For all have notions of a different kind: In the
same dance, you'll scarcely ever see Two strangers dance whose stile at all agree; Some caper,
others turn about like wheels, Some use their toes, and others trust to heels; Some drag their
legs like cripples o'er the stones, Whilst others hop as if they'd broken bones Yet all will
tell you they've been taught, and name Some great Professor, who aspires to fame, And seem unconscious
that there ought to be, Either grace, science, or propriety: Should any dance be called, be
what it will, A Spanish Dance, a Waltz, or a Quadrille, Numbers stand up, and confidence will
show, Tho' they the steps nor figures either know, If a Quadrille, and some don't know the dance,
To dance it right the others have no chance; For when the dance begins confusion rages, Aye,
just like madness in its various stages. Some, lost in doubt, let all the time expire, Afraid
to move, like horses at a fire; * Others quite run, and often the wrong way, Neither for music
nor their partners stay; Whilst others oft their folly to defend, Grow insolent, and for their
rights contend; So blunder on, and spoil the figures quite, By being pushed and pulled to set
them right, Till a Quadrille looks like an Irish fight. Those who car dance, with indignation
burn, And mutter out, "these people ought to learn." 

Bel . This to my mind does Pope's reflection bring, "A little learning, is a dangerous thing;"
'Tis so in dancing; those who little know, Expose themselves a consequence to show; Those who've
no talent, or no steps to use, In others mostly excellence abuse, Declare that "they no inclination
feel To dance with steps, for that is ungenteel." 

Jem . This is a proof of ignorance you'll find, As fools hate science, aye, of every kind; But
sometimes they from pride attempt to gain What they in others did as faults proclaim. * 

Bel . Vanity in some's incureable, they say, For that commodity, fools dearly pay. 

Jem . You must allow, my dear, we all possess A share of vanity, some more, some less- trail were
vain enough to strive to be A Vestris, or a Noblet, we then should see Some better dancers at our
Balls, than those Who now our general companies compose. The reason people dance so ill, I've
stated, With teachers of the art originated. 

Bel . Teachers of Dancing, say it to their shame, In their bad precepts have been most to blame
For teachers should explain, and clearly show, That none should dance at Balls, before they
know Both steps and figures well, and can combine And make from them one perfect whole design:
And these perform in time, with grace and ease, Which would the scientific artist please; These
precepts should be clearly shewn to all, As the perfections look'd for at a Ball; This is a duty
that all Teachers owe Their pupils, and this they really ought to know. 

Jem . This all good teachers know, but some you'll find, For interest, to their credit often
blind For some will ask their pupils-one and all, To take a ticket, when they have a Ball. No matter
whether qualified or not, They there may dance, if something's to be got- Just how they please,
their teacher won't complain, His object's not his credit, but his gain. This practice has
of late so general grown, E'en some great teachers can't the charge disown; Upon this sanction
many fools presume, They dancing know, and consequence assume: Dismiss their teachers, as
these silly elves Think they've grown clever, and can teach themselves; Tho' they one perfect
step can't even show, Or scarcely do the five positions know; Yet vainly think that they can
dance as well, As many who in dancing do excel If they can thro' the figures go, they'll say, "I
think I now can dance as well as they * "Who've been two quarters; I'll no longer pay, "I can instruct
myself-to Balls I'll go, "And there pick up those figures I don't know." L These are their notions,
this is what they say, These are opinions utter'd every day; I mean by those conceited silly
guests, Who every Public Ball Room now infest- Teachers have been encouragers, 'tis plain,
Of all the innovations we complain; Who, in the end, will find out to their cost, They've with
their credit, likewise pupils lost. 

Enter Lucy, with music book . 

Bel . Lucy! here, step this way! Is that the rain That rattles?-Hark! I hear it now quite plain.

Lucy . It rains dreadfully! Why, it really pours:- I wouldn't to night a dog turn out of doors.
The musicians are come in like drowning rats, The water ran in streams off both their hats. 

Bel . You'd better send them in, that we may hear What new Quadrilles they generally play here.

Lucy . They cannot come till they their clothes have dried, By getting wet, poor Mr. Strummer
died; He played in his wet clothes one night, I'm told, At Caper's Ball, and died thro' getting
cold; Alas! poor man! he often said, that he, When Mrs. Strummer died, would marry me. 

Jem . Pho', never mind, if Mr. Strummer's gone, I warrant you'll soon get as good a one; A girl
like you will sweethearts have in plenty, 

Lucy . I'm told the loss of one's the gain of twenty. 

Jem . Lucy, now go and send the music in, They will amuse us till we can begin. 

Lucy . I'll send them in as soon as they have got Well dried, and had a drop of something hot. [ Exit
. ON PUBLIC BALLS. 

Bel . We can't begin just yet, so pray, go on With the same subject we were last upon; Or else on
Public Balls, for there's a field That will, I'm sure, a plenteous harvest yield. 

Jem . True, that's a subject which attention calls, I mean those various titled Public Balls;
Which are so often advertised by those, Whose plan is on all strangers to impose Their schemes,
by whom got up, of whom composed, I can explain, 'tis time they were exposed. 'Tis not intended
these remarks should be Applied to dancers of celebrity; But to pretenders who infest the town,
And strive to pass for teachers of renown And others, whom I've known as fiddlers, waiters,
Gallimaufry men, * and Undertakers And many others, who've no better claim- Yet in large placards,
they Grand Balls proclaim; I've been to all that I've seen advertised, When I describe them,
you will be surprized. 

Bel . Perhaps you're not aware that I have been Myself to several, and strange things have seen.

Jem . Then you much better can appreciate, The truth of what I'm going to relate; And what escapes
my notice, you must try To recollect, and all the chasms supply. 

Bel . I will with pleasure-that you may rely; I'm anxious now my dear to hear from you, Of all these
Balls, a full correct review. 

Jem . To all these various Teachers' Balls I've been; And all their tricks and stratagems have
seen; I'll tell you briefly what they are, and give You information how these people live, Who
hold such Balls-they mostly do assume The names of teachers, and do oft presume To use great
Teachers' names, and say they've been Pupils, tho' they've such persons never seen; Or at some
Theatre of great renown, Declare they've danc'd, and thus they gull the town; Or, if they ever
have been taught, you'll find 'Tis Hornpipes, Reels, or dances of that kind. Or else a quarter's
dancing at the most, Is all these great Professors e'er can boast; Yet at their Balls they often
advertize, Such strange anomalies, as must surprize All those who've Etiquette and Dancing
seen, And at-well regulated Balls have been. These teachers have no fame to lose, so they Care
nothing what they either do or say; Should you enquire for items in their bill, And urge their
public promise to fulfil; Then they excuse themselves, say what you name Cannot be done-they're
either ill or lame. * One tells the World his Ball will be a treat, And in the gallery they may have
a seat; But those who know him and his pupils, say They neither dancing, taste, nor grace display.
Sometimes "SIX HARPS, WITH TWO FULL BANDS" combined, Are leading features in their bill you'll
find- If at a Tavern they should hold their Ball, * Tavern's the most conspicuous word of all;
They on the place depend, not on their name, Thus strive to profit by the Tavern's fame; They
form the bills, the passers by to catch, 

Bel . And I know some that with them I can match; Have been myself by these delusions caught, And
my experience I have dearly bought; At these pretended Balls where I have been, I've never any
thing like dancing seen; To see the MINUET (that appropriate dance To open with) you never have
a chance: Instead of which, a Hornpipe, or a Reel, Or else from Mother Goose a dance they steal;
By way of interlude, they often chase, To shew their skill and their dear selves amuse, To dance
in fetters, or in wooden shoes. 

Jem . At a Grand Ball, not far from Temple Bar, I saw some guests who did a Minuet mar; They scraped
about, as children do at school, For bows, they hobb'd, like dab chicks in a pool: Their arms
when raised, how shall I them define? For even Euclid has no parallel line; Their fingers were
devoid of grace and ease, And stiff, projecting like a chevaux de frize ; And their poor feet,
for want of turning, went- I can't describe-and then their knees they bent. L Whether from fear,
or knowing all not right, They look'd like hares, when started in a fright: And in the face, from
doubt or some such cause, They seemed to merit pity, not applause. They raised their hats, not
with a graceful ease That would a D'Egville, or a Vestris please; 'Twas pure methodic, nothing
like mishap, Just as a bear herd holds his cadging cap. They danc'd, not as our Shakespeare *
wish'd to see, To sink and rise like waving of the sea; For they the gentle waving line ne'er used,
But all the laws of art and grace abus'd. This surely is enough to make yon say, Let none dance
Minuets, who can't grace display. Their guests are mostly sorry sort of sparks, Composed of
prentices, and barber's clerks, Who've never seen a Ball; nor can they show, That they the manners
of the Ball Room know; They've only been to hops, called Balls by those Whose aim is on all parties
to impose. At these Grand Balls I've seen strange people dance, Not quite au fait , as I have seen
in France; But quite devoid of figures, steps, and grace, Who know not etiquette, their side,
nor place Whose awkwardness was like, if I compare, A stupid bear herd, and his dancing bear.

Jem . I've seen a self-taught beau, and his dear charmer, In dancing, look just like two hogs
in armour; The holders of such Balls but seldom care, How awkward or how foolish guests appear.
Such teachers say their companies they chuse, "And Balls are quite select"-ye ne'er refuse
For pay, servants, 'prentices, or peddling Jews; Take all who come, money's their only aim,
They neither care for dancing, nor for fame; But should a dancer, or known teacher, call * And
ask of them admission to their Ball, He'd be refused, for those imposing elves, Keep out all
dancers better than themselves; They know comparisons would odious be, As their defects their
guests would plainly see: If teachers come with tickets, they're abused, If they persist,
they only get accused Of bringing tickets forged, or else they cry, "I've found you out, you
come here as a spy;" To justify themselves would be in vain, Abuse and scandal's all they would
obtain. I know an instance where the like occur'd, Where the Professor to declare was heard,
He'd let no dancers in, in any way, Whether they'd tickets, or proposed to pay. 

Bel . I know the man; and what you have related, Is strictly true, and not exaggerated. From pride
and envy these quacks can't agree, Tho' all are of the same fraternity Tho' each would trick
all those within their reach, They'd yet like thieves their brother rogues impeach; As traders
who run down each other's shop, So dancers call each rival's Ball, a hop. With envy they hypocrisy
unite, And oft shake hands, when each from spleen cou'd fight; Will how at passing, and cry,
how d'ye do? Tho' tacitly each other sacre Dieu! 

Jem . To advertise new rooms, some feel no shame, Tho' they for thirty years have been the same.

Bel . With some folks now, a handsome room is all The requisites they look for at a Ball; Instead
of dances, rooms they advertise, A chandelier the place of steps supplies. They've "DECORATIONS"
in a striking line, And with it "NEW EMBELLISHMENTS" combine; Chassees nor coupees dare not
show their face, Nor can you find one single line on grace: They always tell you, lest you should
not hear, When they hang up a lamp or chandelier. E'en when they sweep the cobwebs with a broom,
And every time they white-wash up their room, * They advertise "their rooms done up anew," If
only white-washed, that will prove it true. Tho' they themselves should wield the brush, they'll
say 'Twas done by some great Artist of the day; Sometimes they tell you what the rooms have cost,
And for your pleasure how much time they've lost; And that your comfort only is their care, And
make their decorations bills of fare: Tell you of mirrors to reflect the face, But no reflections
as to steps and grace; Mention the hundreds that their rooms will hold, 

Jem . Their numbers have too many O's I'm told. 

Bel . These modest souls in fiction like to frolic, And sometimes be a little hyperbolic; Just
like some statesmen, who delight to vapour, And make a crooked line seem straight on paper.
Therefore don't wonder, if these mean tactitians, Are not ashamed of such trite impositions.

Bel . I've never heard, perhaps you can explain, How these Ball holders do such numbers gain;
To visit their Grand Balls, as 'tis well known, That most of them are to the town unknown. 

Jem . 'Tis from good souls who've neither taste nor wit, Who think a Teacher's bill's like holy
writ; Who ne'er reflect, but say as others say, And are by hearsay stories led away. Who've neither
sense nor talent to dispute, Whom Nature's made a species of the brute: Such are their guests,
and such these teachers suit. To pick up guests, our great Professors go To every petty dance,
hop, ball, or show; And there distribute bills and cards, to those Who do those motley companies
compose. In booths at Fairs, they've canvassing been seen, At Peckham, Deptford, Bow, and
Stepney Green; To fill their rooms, they tickets give to all That will accept them, for their
Public Ball. When they together get this motley host, Of numbers and connection they will boast,
Tho' not to half a dozen known at most. Some give to girls (I ladies should them call), Tickets
for distribution for their Ball How, when and where they canvass, they're not nice, In chapel,
playhouse, or upon the ice * - All's one to them, the chapel, or the play, They go to canvass, not
to learn and pray. When Irving raves, they only stare and nod, And court, not listen, to the word
of God. Richard unheeded, for a horse may call, Whilst they make parties for Professor's Ball;
'Tis always ladies who perform this task, Not such as dare'nt of men a favour ask; Who run and
scream, and muffle up their eyes, And if men only look, affect surprise. But those who think
such notions affectation, And talk to men without much reservation, And trust a kiss may not
be ruination. Such are the ladies, such the means they try, And thus with guests the Ball Room
they supply. They search for those who can, or try to dance, Set down their names, where'er they
have a chance Of bringing one their viands to partake, nd pay for hat or cloak, for custom sake:(
* They gain addresses, invitations send For their Grand Balls, to Mr. A -, and friend Who reads
and wonders how these tickets came, (As he, Professor knows not e'en by name,) Much more to think
how he's deserved the same: Or how he had the great Professor served, Or by what means such friendship
he deserved. He yet conceives, tho' he don't recollect, It must be sent thro' knowledge and
respect; He goes determined, if he dance or not, To see some old acquaintance he'd forgot: Expects
Professor will some notice take, And by the hand to have a friendly shake. But what must be the
visitor's surprise, Professor ne'er before had met his eyes; Nor does he come to meet congratulation,
Not e'en the usual friendly salutation: But passes by to serve a glass of grog, With something
like the manners of a hog; The mystery's now developed, and the guest May very easily discern
the rest. This is enough, if visitors attend, To prove the friendship of this liberal friend:
And what his motives are before they go, The hat and coffee scheme will let them know. They find
Professor knows not one in twenty, He cares not who they are, if they drink plenty; The present
guests they mostly re-invite, And furnish tickets for their friend's next night. Next day,
fresh invitations go to all They think will come to their forth-coming Ball; For they like strangers
who have not been caught, This is the way fresh companies are brought. There's some pragmatic
teachers (that's well known,) Who would not Vestris their superior own: Whose pride does with
their vanity keep pace, But then such pride would e'en a fool disgrace. As they to hops at public
houses go, And there become a sort of raree show; Yet not as guests do they such Balls attend,
But as directors, there to superintend: And have their names in print, that they may be Kings
of the hop, or gallimaufry. 

Bel . Is this their pride? then all the world must know, Their pride is like the peacock's, noise
and show, 

Jem . For Etiquette, these Balls are not you'll see, What Almack's is, or Connolly's used to
be, Confined to dancing, and the most refined, Which was, and is, with Etiquette combin'd:
For at these Balls, where our Professors go, There's all the tricks and mummery of a show: And
as to guests, they're lowest of the low. Here sorry toss-pots these Professors own, And to the
vilest trulls they must be known; Pie-men, lolly-pop, and hay-band makers, Daffers, Duffers,mop-stick
weavers, and undertakers, ft' constitute the guests at these Grand Balls, * Dispute precedence,
and demand the calls. The conduct of the guests whom you find there, Is such as you would meet
with at a fair: For they not only smoke, drink, dance, and sing, But show you wonders with the
balls and ring. Between the dances (whilst you recreate) A sword, sometimes, you see a fellow
eat: And hear Professor oft attention call, or siffleurs * and chin music at the Ball. Uncloaked
and smoking, in a wicker chair, Sits Shakespeare's Richard (says the bill of fare,) Who drops
his pipe, and starts, to make folks stare. When he's tugged hard "in King Cambyses' vein," The
tensor then becomes himself again. Silvester Daggerwoods do here resort, To make a benefit,
as well as sport Poor Terpischore would here in sackloth weep, To see such dancing, as would
shame a sweep. For Ball's a mere pretence, for you might bring Sots, P- and W-, to drink, smoke,
dance, and sing; To Balls like these, do our Professors lend Their names, and personally such
Balls attend. 

Bel . How can such great Professors like to go, (Like petty drivellers at a penny show, To rank
themselves the lowest of the low? 

Jem . To them these petty hops such joys supply, As Cuffs and Almack's, their low taste deny;
They're all "Grand Balls," for so they say in print, Whether they're in St. Giles's, or the Mint.

Bel . And some of those whom our Professor graces, Are often held there, or in such like places,
They every thing nicname' and magnify, That on their words in print you can't rely. 

Jem . You know "the man of words, and not of deeds, Is like a garden that is full of weeds." They're
like the nurse who said, (as fables go) She to the wolf the peevish child would throw; The wolf
o'er heard it, and believed the nurse, But in the end her lying tongue did curse; For she ne'er
mean't to do as she proposed, So on the wolf's credulity imposed Who, tir'd of waiting, hungry
walk'd away, And curses lies and liars to this day. There are Professors who delight in noise,
And treat their guests as they would little boys o call a dance they now a trumpet blow, * As showmen
gather children round a show: Who hear the trumpet, then take to their legs, In hopes to see some
phoenix, or cock's eggs, Or learned pig, or mermaid newly taken, r some kind pair, who've claimed
the flitch of bacon. So our Professors trope their guests will race, And sans decorum , scramble
for a place; M 

Bel . The baby guests may run at such a call, But not discreet frequenters of a Ball: It none can
please, except some baby guest, 

Jem . I could name scores that Ball Rooms now infest. 

Bel . 'Tis done to make fools think there'll be a crowd, Where human voice can't reach, however
loud; But some will view them in another light, And think a crowd may sometimes breed a fight.
That fights at Balls are sadly out of place, And must the Ball and Ball holders disgrace. A trumpet
might be proper at Vauxhall, As persons there might stray beyond a call; But in the Ball Room,
there's no such pretence, 'Tis done to make their Ball of consequence. There's one Professor,
aye, of whom you've heard, Put out a Ball bill, pompous and absurd; 'Twas an attempt at wit, but
such rare stuff, To read it you would find three lines enough; And say 'twas only fit (the Muse
may weep) To read, to lull an Alderman to sleep, Professor said 'twas meant to make a hit, But
as some phrase it, here "it did not fit." I've now forgot the wording, but I will ome future day,
produce you this choice bill; * But 'tis such wit, and so devoid of sense, To read it thro' you
need have recompense. 

Bel . There's few you'll find, but really think they've wit, And these good souls are fond of
using it On all occasions, whether wrong or right, They thrust it out, however dull and trite;
And seem to chuckle when they've had their say, And wonder folks don't laugh as well as they;
And often say they'll tell a funny tale, Which when rehearsed, turns out quite dull and stale.
They strive with nonsense laughter to provoke, And laugh with others at each thread-bare joke.

Jem . Such shallow wits but on the surface creep, And never talk on subjects very deep; As they've
so small a stock, and no supply, Justlike some springs in summer, often dry; And what they borrow
you with ease may know, And find it word for word in honest Joe. Your would be wit will stare, and
hesitate, For want of words, and scratch his empty pate; Then strike his head (to cry out "fool"
not willing,) Whch being empty, rings like a cracked shilling. To find real wit you need adopt
the plan, On which Diogenes sought an honest man. 

Bel . Balls have like churches lately multiplied, Tho' not with equal pious guests supplied.

Jem . Balls formerly were places of resort, For only the genteel, and better sort Of company,
where strict decorum reign'd, And where admission was not easy gained; Where none were seen
you'd be asham'd to own, Where rudeness and ill manners were unknown. The etiquette preserved
would plainly show, The most fastidious moralist might go. We've yet some Balls that well deserve
the name, Which have unsullied still preserv'd their fame; This these Professors know and
use their wit, To form their bills these Balls to counterfeit. They try all sorts of titles that
will strike The eye, no matter what, or how unlike The usual titles, novelty they say Will please
John Bull, for which he'll always pay. Cheap dancing too these Ball holders well know, Will
many suit and many tempt to go; They therefore in their Ball bills oft pretend, By friendly titles,
dancers to befriend. ome are "FREE BALLS" term'd-some they "FRIENDLY call, These are but lures
to get you to the Ball; irect, or indirect, you pay at all. How, and by what means 'tis done I'll
clearly show, As I the system of these gentry know. If these Ball holders cannot boast of gain,
From the admissions, yet they do obtain A profit on the various things they vend, From cloaks
and hats, * and what the guest may spend, Some wholly live; whatever they pretend. From these
and other stratagems are gained, More profit than by teaching is obtained: Another source
of profit some devise, By which they slyly cozen the Excise, y mixing liquors without licens'd
leave To sack the profit and Excise deceive. ome take one license, just by way of blind, Yet wines
and liquors sell of every kind; With ale and porter, bottled beer, and stout, Yet all plead ignorance
when they're found out. 

Bel . To sell without a license, I suppose, Would any vender to some fine expose. 

Jem . To sell what I have nam'd and be secure, Three separate licenses you must procure; To sell
without is risk-the law abounds With penalties for each-some fifty pounds. * But these Ball
holders nothing have in view, But gain, for which they cheat the revenue; Their guests for this
are not the better treated, They and the revenue alike are cheated. To save the spirits mix it
sweet and hot, That from each shilling eight-pence may be got: Their wine's not only in short
measure sent, But must in quality yield cent per cent. With these inducements Balls have multiplied,
Where new Professors with the old have vied; Not as instructors, but who caters best, And gains
the most by viands from their guests. 

Bel . Instead of Dancing Masters, they should write " Unlicensed victuallers ," then their
title's right; The term "Professor's" used by way of lure, To make their guests believe they're
quite secure. 

Jem . These quacks care not who dance ill or well, If they can plenty of refreshments sell That's
their main object, tho' it's not confest, For that they strive to fill their room with guests.
This to effect they tickets give to all They know or hear of, to attend their Ball. Numbers they
want, and those who spend their cash To show their consequence and cut a dash; Who ask the ladies
what they like to chuse, And seem offended when the belles refuse. And those who drink for nought
but drinking sake, And will insist all present shall partake; And those who of long reckonings
make a boast, And pride themselves that they have paid the most; Who won't dispute the items
in the bill, If wrong cast up-who never takes it ill Who ne'er reflect, and whose resolves are
vain, ho, Ranger like, -next night return again. M 3 Such are the guests they want, not those
who are Economists, and rigid sons of care; Who only come to dance but never stay, Like some,
to stagger home at break of day; Who stand in every dance and scarce take breath, Who fiddlers
say, will dance them all to death; Who always hold that ancient maxim right, That says, "for
health," to bed by twelve at night; Not those who with the doctors do agree, Never to take refreshment
after tea And if they do, then nothing more will take Beyond an orange, or some trifling cake.
They at their rooms ne'er want such guests as these, Who bring no profit, therefore cannot please.
For such as these, those great Professors say, "Who only come to dance may stay away; Such prudent
frugal guests will never pay." 

Bel . We've here digress'd, but this digression's shown Me some strange practices till now
unknown. GRAND DRESS BALLS. 

Jem . I'll now begin with what some often call, And often advertise, "A GRAND DRESS BALL;" * You,
from their title, might expect to find Good company, with elegance combined. But at those Balls
you must not be surpriz'd, lf expectations are not realiz'd. To one of those Dress Balls one
night I went, When I got there, to my astonishment, I found, instead of dashing belles and beaux,
Their guests trimmed out in Monmouth Street fine clothes. I made enquiries, who, and what they
were, And found some gents retailers in Rag Fair: With maids of all work, and some men of lace,
In borrowed suits, this Grand Dress Ball to grace. But their disguise could not impose on me,
As by their manners I could plainly see, They neither had the manner, speech, nor gait, Of those
they vainly strove to imitate. There was not one well dress'd amongst them all, 'Twas quite
a mockery of a Grand Dress Ball; Nothing like rule or order found I there, 'Twas noise, dust,
drinking, just like Greenwich Fair. GRAND BALLS. 

Their GRAND BALLS are the next upon rotation, On which I now shall make some observation. Grand
is a title which they always call Each petty hop, that they misname a Ball; To misapply the term
they feel no shame, As all they want is some good striking name. They try all sorts of titles that
will strike The eye, no matter what, or how unlike; A striking title's all they have in view,
They care not what, so it be great and new. he title GRAND on many does impose, Who know not what
they are, and will suppose, They're what they should be, not what oft they are A rabble, only
fit to grace a fair. A fight's as usual now at such a Ball, As to see herrings reta'l'd at a stall.

Bel . You from their titles really might expect Good dancing, and a company select. 

Jem . There ought to be, but you will scarce believe How shamefully the public they deceive;
As I've just said, their company you'll find, Are such as frequent hops of every kind; Therefore
should you find genteel people there, 'Tis those impos'd on by their bills of fare. The dancing
which you'll find at their Grand Balls, Next for remarks and reprehension calls; Quadrilles
well danc'd, the Waltz perform'd with ease, And grace that would the most fastidious please
You never see-but shuffling sort of stuff, hat Akenside calls "Dancing in the rough," And coincides
with jumping, not what we Have at a real Grand Ball been used to see. At these quack Teachers'
Balls, the dancers may Stand up and hop about in their own way; Wrong for right, which ever way
they chuse, And every rule of science may abuse; For dancing they such hotch potch substitute,
That brings this polite art to disrepute. 

Bel . I saw at one of those Grand Balls you name, Dancing one night a bouncing City Dame, Who goes
to Balls, but hops as she were lame. And many who had steps in great profusion, But wrong applied,
whose feet seem'd all confusion. 

Jem . The appropriate steps these dancers never use, But hop, and run about like wrangling Jews;
With bawling, "this way, Sir," through there, "begin again," Some push, some pull, some of
the band complain. From rule and order here, they seem exempt, And often treat Professor with
contempt. 

Bel . Without connection, 'tis the strangest thing, How to these Balls they can such numbers
bring. 

Jem . They issue tickets out, that will admit From two to twenty, just as you think fit. If you
could fill the room, they'd tickets give, They by refreshment, not by dancing live; They care
not who the guest may be, not they, If he for coffee, hat, and partner pay. * 

Bel . The numbers there collected, oft impose on strangers who too frequently suppose 'Tis
all connection, but not half a score, To these Professors have been known before. 

Jem . As I've described such are the plans of all Those petty teachers, and those hops they call
"Grand Balls"-this subject I'll take up again, And these Grand Balls more fully will explain.
SELECT BALLS. 

The Balls they call select, shall next by me Be here explained; you then at once will see, How
far they with their title do agree. hey often use the terms, Grand and Select, * In their announcements-this
is puff direct, For in one visit you'll the cheat detect. To gain access you need of no petition,
Offer them money-then you'll gain admission. 

Bel . But do they all their companies select? 

Jem . I'll tell you how this matter they effect. These teachers use the term "Select," but care
No more who comes, than showmen at a fair; Nor how they bring a company, not they, But call them
all good company that pay- Their companies are quite select, I'll show, For they select out
every one they know. 

Bel . How do they ladies so select obtain? Who are their gentlemen? You'll perhaps explain.

Jem . They ransack booths at Fairs, and petty hops, And canvass all straw hat, and milliners'
shops For ladies-for such are ladies, one and all; 

Bel . Aye, every girl's a lady at a Ball. 

Jem . Their gentlemen you'll find are much the same, They're gentlemen in little but the name;
They're not quite what Lord Chesterfield would call Fit gentlemen to visit a Grand Ball: Who
ne'er contend nor scramble for a place, Who take and leave their partners with a grace; Who would
five hours in the rain or cold, Wait for their partners, and ne'er frown or scold. They don't
resemble those, I fear you'll say, They clap and hiss like dustmen at a play; Dictate the hand,
and 'midst Quadrilles call Reels, And silence claim, by rattling with their heels: Contend
for places, claim the top by right, And when prov'd wrong, maintain the place by might. Demand
a call, but when it's nam'd can't show That they the figures, steps, or music know; They less
politeness to each other employ, han our old foes show'd us, at Fontenoy. * 

Bel . There's this excuse, if it can he allow'd, They to politeness never yet have bow'd, On men
and manners they've no strictures made, Know only Cocker, and the tricks of trade. Of Chesterfield
they've never read one word, And Rochefaucault's a name they never heard; You might as well
to them in coptic preach, As fam'd Galateo's genteel precepts teach. They never heard of Bacon,
West, or Locke, And Ball Room etiquette their nerves does shock; They're only versed in Tom
and Jerry flash, And that they use, as spendthrifts do their cash. The dancing at these Balls
you'll seldom find, Either to rule or reason is confin'd; Professor's object's not who may
excel In dancing, but what viands he may sell; He never preaches abstinence, nor says "Late
hours and drinking shorten people's days;" Nor recommends the guests to pause, add think Of
home, and of long reckonings 'ere they drink. If with his viands they increase his bill, And
should get tipsy, he'll not take it ill- Such are the guests they always like to chuse, And thus
they do the term "Select" abuse. The public with these Balls they oft' deceive, For strangers
by their titles oft' believe That they with scrupulous nicety do chuse Their company, and at
these Balls refuse All persons who can't prove their reputation Is far above a low and grovelling
station, In means and manners, and quite fit to grace Almack's, or any other splendid place;
But they're mistaken, as I'll prove to you, The holders of these Balls have no such view; For
they've no scruples who they may admit, For money's all they want to make you fit. Without a question,
pay but at the door, They will admit you, tho' ne'er seen before. They're not concerned when
they've your money got, How you can dance, or if you dance or not A stranger at these Balls might
be surpris'd, To find them only common hops disguis'd. CHARACTERISTIC BALLS. * 

That you may now fresh information gain, " Characteristic balls " I'll next explain. The holders
of these Balls would be afraid, To give their proper name, "A MASQUERADE;" ldquo;Characteristic's"
to evade the law, And keep these gentry from the lion's paw; ut "Masquerade" they dare not advertise,
As that at once the Police would apprize Of their illegal tricks, which might perchance To prison
lead these gentlefolks a dance; Where they'd be made to dance against their will, By taking
steps upon the Treading Mill. To have these Balls the holders must receive, ither the Chamberlain's
license or his leave; * Without such leave, all parties in the place May be imprisoned, and fined
with the disgrace Of being convicted by the Vagrant Act, ome late transactions prove this is
the fact. To evade the law they try another way, And give out tickets gratis, * but then they Expect
you will of them your dresses hire, And pay for them whatever they require. They know the Chamberlain
will never give Sanction to them, nor license while they live; They therefore by fictitious
title, call A Masquerade, "Characteristic Ball." They run all risques, as gain is their intent,
And disregard the Acts of Parliament They hire rooms, and care not what disgrace They bring
upon the company, or the place. Altho' they call their company select, Yet their good word alone
will not protect Them always-two instances I have seen, At Bow Street, and St. Martin's Lane,
I mean: Where the whole company were lately caught, And to the Magistrate by force were brought;
And some to durance vile, remorseless sent, And all were publicly exposed who went. N The Ladies
were all persons of renown, And most of them well known by half the town; Bat some real gentlemen
with them were brought, But they by chance were there decoyed and caught. The dancing laws *
you'll find, are little known, To those they most concern, in this great town. 

Bel . I know but little of them, I must own. LAWS RELATIVE TO DANCING. 

Jem . These laws the public often misconceive, And to their cost, themselves they oft deceive;
From hear-say stories told by rogues and fools, To whom they're either made the dupes or tools.
They're like old feudal laws, when you compare These laws with sense and reason, and are Degrading
and severe, when you transgress: They want revising, all the town confess. 

Bel . It will oblige me much to hear you state When they were made, their bearings, and relate
What penalties, and what they call the Act, And how you may it's rigour counteract. 

Jem . I am no lawyer, nor can I pretend To undertake an action to defend; 'Tis the provisions of
the Act that I Shall here explain, but wholly must rely On memory, and that I really doubt In the
particulars, will not bear me out. 

Bel . In formal wording I'm not over nice, Just state the outline-that will me suffice. 

Jem . Well-that I'll do in what they call a trice. This Act you'll find the public did obtain *
The 25th of George the Second's reign. This Act is called "an Act for the preventing Thefts and
robberies, and for regulating Places of public amusement, (where For payment, you may public
dancing share.) It likewise in its clauses does combine Imprisonment, with very heavy fine
For keepers of all houses of ill fame"- Disorderly houses also fare the same. 

Bel . It seems a complicated Act, combin'd With other things; to dancing not confin'd; I'm told
'tis arbitrary, and too severe. * 

Jem . The pains and penalties you now shall hear, To show if you transgress what you've to fear.
I'll briefly state the Act of Parliament- "Any House, Garden, Room, or Tenement, Kept for Public
Dancing, or Entertainment, In London, Westminster, or twenty miles around, In which there
shall be public Dancing found." Without a license, then, will subject those To pains and penalties,
who do oppose The law, for strange to say, but 'tis the fact, You may be punished by the Vagrant
Act; With penalties and fines the Act abounds, * The penalty's each time, one hundred pounds;
N 3 Which may be gained by any one, who'll sue Those parties, that Such practices pursue. 

Bel . 'Tis too severe an Act to he unknown, It wants repealing, every one must own. 

Jem . Severe, indeed, to me this Act does seem, For by the clauses you will see they deem Houses
unlicensed, as disorderly, * If there's a dance, however orderly The company may be, yet by
warrant, Which any sitting Magistrate may grant To any constable, and him employ, The unsuspecting
dancers to annoy He then may enter, seize all persons found Therein, and in the watch-house
them impound, Until it shall his Worship's humour please, To bring the culprits forth from
little ease Before him, and then, as he thinks fit, As rogues and vagabonds, can them commit
To prison-'tis also left to his discretion, To hind them over to the Quarter Session, Where
they may be, whatever be their station, Humanely then discharged by proclamation. 

Bel . Such harsh degrading clauses all must own, For such offences yet were never known. 

Jem . Offences call them! what, dancing an offence!- This Act's a stretch of power, a mere pretense
To abridge the amusements of the middling class This Act was framed, and with that view did pass.

Bel . Surely a legislature wise and just, In which the people always put their trust, Would never
pass it, with such views as these, Which would the public all at large displease. Another time
this matter we'll debate, But now I am anxious just to hear you state When, where, and how, are
licenses obtain'd, For public dancing-this you've not explain'd. 

Jem . If you for dancing would a license take, At Michaelmas Quarter Sessions you must make Your
application, and state why and where, When all the Justices of Peace are there; Four Justices
at least must seal and sign, In open Court, not privately combine At adjourn'd sittings, but
in open Court, The clerk their names must publicly report, "That they have granted unto A or
B, For public entertainment without fee, A license, unto which they all agree." 'Tis likewise
requisite to mention here, The license then will only last one year; Until St. Michaelmas returns,
then you This license at the Sessions must renew; Like those of Saddler's Wells, and of Vauxhall,
And public houses, which are one and all Licensed by this Act, if you enquire; At Michaelmas,
they one and all expire. Then should you fail for to renew the grant, Your place is clos'd, and
you to gaol are sent. When you've the license got, there's one thing more Must be attended to-you
o'er the door Must an inscription have in characters Affixed, which to the Act and time refers;
In capital letters too it must appear, And must be thus made out distinct and clear: Licensed
pursuant to act of parliament , * Of the twenty-fifth of george the second -meant For public
dancing, to let people know Where they in safety may to dancing go. (Sundays excepted) else
on every day They've licensed leave to let folks dance and pay; 'Till five P. M. the music dare
not play. On those who keep these Rooms you'll find Other restrictions, with those nam'd combin'd;
In case of breach, the Magistrates may send At any time, revoke or else suspend The license,
nor will they, while they live, Another license to that party give. To my best judgment, now,
I think I have nam'd The clauses, how and when the Act was fram'd; With all the pains and penalties
thereto, That you may always for the future know, Where you in safety may to dancing go. 

Bel . I must confess, you now have told me more Of dancing laws, than I e'er knew before; Your timely
information may prevent Me that disgrace, which I might e'er repent; Perhaps I should, if I'd
not been appriz'd, Have gone to some Grand Ball that's advertis'd, And held at some unlicens'd
house or place, And might have been imprison'd with disgrace. For want of knowledge, I must
now confess, Against the laws I often did transgress; There's scarce a licens'd place in all
the town, Not e'en those Halls and Taverns of renown, Where Balls are frequent held, I must confess,
'Tis with surprize I see them all transgress; And so do half the town without intent Of breaking
thro' the Act of Parliament For not one in a hundred, who now go To Public Balls, did ever hear
or know That such an Act existed, nor did those Who let their Rooms, thus knowingly oppose The
law; good order and good company They think will them protect, indeed they say, The keeping
of the public peace is all That's requisite; then mischief can't befall Them or their company,
nor think the Act Can all their cautious projects counteract. Publicans oft unconscious of
offence, Transgress the law, likewise incur expence, From persons taking of their Rooms,
who say 'Tis for a private party, yet for pay Let people in-this is enough; in fact, They're then
within the meaning of the Act. Not knowing of this Act, they only try To avoid what is term'd disorderly;
To avert the danger, should it e'er accrue, And screen themselves, this plan they oft pursue;
They mostly have a constable attend Their Balls, and one they think will them befriend, In case
the Ball should reach his Worship's ears, He then can satisfy his doubts and fears; Assure him
'twas respectable and quiet, No naughty women, tippling, brawl, or riot; But was composed
of gentlemen and wives, (Who, all the world know, lead good honest lives) They think this will
his Worship satisfy, On this alone these people do rely; They never think the law does further
go, Because his Worship may not chance to know This Act exists, * for Magistrates have been As
dull and ignorant quite, as other men. And petty Constables you'll often find, If you enquire,
are rogues and fools combin'd; Like " Dogberry " * of old, they're just the same, And only differ
from him as to name; Often pretend to understand the law, To give advice, or else to find a flaw.
Know all proceedings, and what Acts did pass, But tis at Public Houses o'er a glass; Whoe'er
takes their advice will surely fail, Lose suits and costs, and curse them in a jail. There's
many a Publican, as I've heard say, Thro' such advice has had the fine to pay; At almost every
Public House, you'll find They've had a dance, or something of the kind; Have all unwittingly
transgress'd the Act, And may be sued by those who'll prove the fact. There's one thing more,
of which they're not aware, They're not ev'n privileged at Bartholomew Fair; No saving clause,
that Lady Holland's guest May privileg'd dance; they're class'd among the rest; Before the
Court of Pie Poudre, may be Arraign'd, and punished for their jollity. 

Bel . There's one thing more, before we go, I wish to ask, and which no doubt you know; If private
persons take a Room, are they For dancing there made subject for to pay The fine, or punished
as the Act describes; Or is it doubtful how the law decides? 

Jem . 'Tis public dancing, music, and the like Amusements, where you'll find the law does strike.

Bel . I wish to know, does not the Act protect Subscription Balls, and those they call select?

Jem . How far the law may in these cases go, I am not sufficient lawyer now to show; they may at the
door no money take, 'Tis plain these Balls are for amusement sake; Public amusement you must
know, is meant To he suppress'd by Act of Parliament, Without you have a license for the same,
You're liable-it matters not the name You give the place or Ball, be what it may, Without a license
you the fine must pay- To me this seems the meaning of the law, Yet some "qui tam" perhaps may find
a flaw. 

Bel . Tell me the course informers do pursue, When they the penalties have got in view. 

Jem . Two persons going to a dance, where they Do for amusement only sixpence pay, Have only then
to prove the place and time; That's quite enough to constitute the crime; Get fiddlers names,
subpoena them to show The dance existed, when and where, and how; That done, the Counsel for
the Plaintiff need Then only from the Act the clauses read; If this is done, with proving of the
fact, The Jury find according to the Act. Informers often with a gang combine 'Gainst Publicans,
and thus obtain the fine. One hires a room and holds a dance, in fact 'Tis done to prove the breaking
of the Act; One pays his money at the door, that he May in the Court a casting witness be. Upon the
Statute then an action's brought, * And thus the Publican's securely caught; To evade the penalty
he has then no chance, As these swear money paid, and prove the dance. Informers often Publicans
deceive, By saying they of Magistrates have leave; And talk of liberal guests to bait the lure,
Which makes poor Froth believe he's quite secure; Like Ministers who would the nation gull,
And by the horns take simple Johnny Bull; Do always raise some strange or specious tale, By way
of tub to throw out to the whale, For to divert him while they measures take, To load his back,
or bind him to the stake; And when these foxes get you in their claws, They to your cost will then
expound the laws. Although the Act will punish all who're there Informers seldom for the company
care, But always look where something's to be got, And if the company there are not worth shot;
Fall on the Landlord to obtain the fine, Not for the public good, but base design, To gain from
him one hundred pounds, which they By Act of Parliament can make him pay- In vain he pleads the
Act he never knew, Yet he must pay the fine, tho' it be true. 

Bel . By tickets of admission are you sure, That you're from pains and penalties secure? 

Jem . Tickets if sold, are not a legal tender, And lawyers say, endanger the offender; Nay, Magistrates
have late decisions made, That they've contriv'd the Statute to evade, * For at unlicens'd
Rooms, be where they may, You dare not dance, if you presume to pay, Without being open to the
Vagrant Act, And may be fin'd by those who'll prove the fact. 

Bel . I must confess I now have heard from you, More dancing law than I suppos'd you knew. 

Jem . I have not exaggerated, but stated fact, As near as I can recollect the Act. If Johnson and
his gang this Act well knew, They would no longer Publicans pursue For trifling penalties,
but leave such gains, When they could get a hundred for their pains, And string them like dried
herrings, great and small, And in one term get verdicts from them all. Let them take warning,
think of costs and debt, For all are fish who come to Johnson's net, As he spares none, but takes
them by surprise, And treats them as the spiders do the flies. * 

Jem . Though 'tis irrelevant and retrograding, And may be thought the subject "Balls" invading;
There's one thing I forgot, that must be stated, Which in "Professors" should have been related.

Bel l. The greatest generals often retrograde, To gain new strength 'gainst those whom they
invade; And then return with renovated powers, Refresh'd like sun-burnt earth from falling
showers. Therefore relate it now-you know, my love, Delays will often very dangerous prove.

Jem . One in a broadside of large double crown, Proclaims "SUPERIOR DANCING" to the town; And
what's more cheering, with some sage advice, Says he'll instruct you at one-third the price
Of any who can boast of equal fame; But our Professor does not give his name. 

Bel . Perhaps Professor's modesty may be, The reason we in print his name don't see. 

Jem . Then he's not like some brethren of the toe, Who hack their names like Messrs. Doe and Roe,
And put them up in types of various dye, To attract the crowd, and catch the passers by; O 

Bel . Names sometimes are for reasons kept conceal'd, And only are from circumstance reveal'd.
I've known some persons who remain'd in cog: For reasons why some donkeys wear a cog: 

Jem . Perhaps, Professor like, some lords of state Remain in cog; to compass something great;
And hides his name from charity, to those Poor puny souls, who dare his fame oppose, And by surprise,
will on some future day Break forth, and his astounding name display; His rivals will be in the
distance hurl'd, And our Professor poze the dancing world. The town will then no doubt a deference
show To such "superior talent," also know, To whom they do such obligations owe. 

Bel . We to those Balls will now return again; I'm anxious you their nature should explain. FRIENDLY
BALLS. 

From this digression I shall now review What are called "FRIENDLY BALLS," and prove to you,
They are only Friendly as to name-for those Who hold those Balls are certain to impose, On all
who go; by stratagem or fraud They trick their guests, and then themselves applaud; If to these
Balls you should gain free admission, You'll not (depend on't) also get permission To place
your hat or cloak just where you please, For they are kept till payment of the fees; Which they
with care exact from one and all, Both friends and foes, who do attend their Ball. 

Bel . What fees are those, which they presume to take? 

Jem . A sort of rate or levy which they make On every one who goes-this is the way That they contrive
to make all dancers pay. When you go in, * your hat or cloak they take, Then on the wearer a demand
they make Of certain money, as the usual fee- To pay it ere you dance, you must agree. This they
pretend's the perquisite of those, Who have the care of bonnets, hats, and clothes; A mere pretence!
the Proprietor 'tis known, Gives only poundage, makes the rest his own. If you comply, there's
still one more condition Must be fulfilled, before you gain admission To join these Balls,
a coffee ticket they * Present you with, and then for which they say, Before you enter, you must
also pay. When gentlemen bring ladies to their Ball, These teachers charge their coffee-this
they call The general practice, and a usual thing, For gentlemen to pay for those they bring;
Such regulations 'tis but fair to state, Do chiefly to the gentlemen relate- For these professors
do a difference show 'Twixt ladies and gentlemen-ladies, they know, To dances unprovided
often go. They therefore are let off at small expence, And only pay by way of recompense, A sixpence
for the care of what they bring, Cloak, hat, or shawl, or any such like thing. Teachers for pay
on gentlemen depend, Trust each will treat his partner and her friend; For at refreshment,
'tis the usual plan, To place two ladies to each gentleman; Not ladies of the very squeamish
kind, But such as at these hops and Balls you find; Who'd not refuse a drop of you know what, If
at free cost it can with ease be got: Who would not fear on Sunday's, as in France, To leave the
Church, and join a Country Dance. In pious matters they're not very nice, But hate the whole
"society of vice;" Not like some pious senators that cry, Because some thousands still in errors
die, Nor listen to advice from Mrs. Fry. * But many can (oh ! shocking !) curse and damn, And would
not fear to ride the old black ram; Who are not so nice as to refuse to eat, Because it is the gentlemen
who treat; Or should the matter be disputed, they But seldom, for themselves insist to pay.
Those ladies often with the master join, To increase the bill and favour his design; For services
like these he does admit Them gratis, and such ladies they think fit To introduce-but for this
favour then, They there must introduce some gentlemen, For to subscribe to something they
may call A dress, select , or grand , or fancy ball . One has a scheme superior to the rest, To sell
his coffee and detain his guest; He makes them take it, if they will or no; How this is done I'll
now attempt to show- When these who are obliged to watch the clock, And dread eleven, lest they
in vain should knock; Apply for hat or shoes, they're often shock'd, To hear of "servants out,
and closet lock'd;" And if they should the consequence explain, Professor swears and trys
some keys in vain, And nods condolence, whilst he counts the gain. I have made this long digression
to explain Who their ladies are, how they act and gain Admission, and how these petty teachers
live; Some future time I'll further statements give. 

Bel . I must confess you now have told me more Of their finesse, than I e'er knew before. 

Jem . There's still one project I have not yet stated, * Which in Professors should have been
related. 

Bel . Let's hear it-time and place shall be excus'd, I seek to be instructed and amus'd. 

Jem . To pass off damaged ware, street huxters cry, (To ease your doubts) come, "taste before
you buy;" But if you taste, and should refuse to deal, You'll soon the merits of their candour
feel. 

Bel . That's very true-'tis what they call a lay: For those who taste, are always made to pay.
There's some Professors I can't mention here, Who of connection have some ground for fear;
To fill their Rooms, they to the town now bawl, "Two lessons gratis if you join our Ball." O 3 'Tis
meant to rival (may be plainly seen) The "Supper gratis," and the trumpet scheme; For these
poor souls, if they can't boast of wit, With some device all strive to make a hit. 

Jem . They soon will teach you all you want to know, If you to these Professors Balls will go: We
therefore shortly may expect to meet Teachers with fiddles, playing in the street "Stoney
Batter" to Macadamizers, Or with a board turn'd walking advertisers; Or using steps (not chassees,
more's the pity) To hawk some golden bubble thro' the city. FREE BALLS. 

Bel . The FREE BALLS I could wish you'd next review, That I may know, if what is said, is true Concerning
them; for I've heard many say, Though they're call'd FREE BALLS, you are made to pay. 

Jem . Those miscall'd free balls often do disgrace Their title, the proprietor, and place In
which they're held; instead of Free Balls, they Who hold them, always make all comers pay, *
Either for music, room, or hat, or clothes, Or something else they claim, or else propose With
whips and fresh demands to make amends, For "giving dancing gratis to their friends?" You'll
find these Free Balls all on the same plan- Go there, and dance at free cost if you can; For our
Professor's "gratis" is the lure, Who shows the cheat when he has guests secure. Girl, boy,
or serving man is welcome guest, And maids of all work figure with the rest; For these Free Balls,
they mostly get their belies From Conduit Gardens, or from Bagnigge Wells; From playhouse
lobbies, waiting for a call, Ladies are brought, to grace Professor's Ball; Welcome all comers!
no matter who or what They be-from all, there's something to be got, Either for hat or cloak,
or what they spend; The object's gain, whatever they pretend. * I've heard such fights do at
these Balls take place, As any other Ball Room would disgrace; But these Professors and their
guests you'll find, Are not of the reflecting squeamish kind; They're used to fights, to tipling,
noise, and riot, And quite unus'd to order, rule, and quiet. 

Bel . Such rude fracas their belles must terrify! 

Jem . By no means, they have more philosophy. They're not those squeamish dames who'd be asham'd
To hear an oath, or "ladies garters" named; Who will look down when they approach a man, And always
hide their faces with their fan: Or those, who would a double entendre dread, When beaux change
cards, are carried out for dead: Or those who think they're ruined with a kiss, Or would resign
their place to each pert miss: Or those who are at twelve resolved to go, And leave the Ball, likewise
a favourite beaux; Who would drink water, and good wine oppose, And dread a crowd, although
composed of beaux: Who never talk but when in time and place, Who never move or dance but with
a grace: Who'd rather go to church, and say their prayers, Than go to Balls and dance to Quadrille
airs; Who never slander'd rivals friends or foes, Nor envied others jewels or fine clothes;
Who rail at men, and mean the whole they say, Who'd rather pray and work, than dress and play:
Nor those who tell their age and never scold, Who think they're ugly, and would gain be old. These
are not ladies who such Balls attend, They're very different belles, you may depend; The gentlemen
who at these Balls you find, Are as to manners of a similar kind; They've none of that retiring
self command, When they applaud to merely move the hand, But clap their hands like vulgar low
coal heavers, And make them sound like marrow bones and cleavers. For noise and gesture these
Ball guests you'd say, Resemble dancing sweeps the first of May. FANCY DRESS BALLS. 

Fancy dress balls must as the next appear, And what they really are you now shall hear. Fancy
Dress Balls, some people likewise name * Characteristic, and think they are the same; (But
Characteristic as I just have said, Is meant to signify a Masquerade,) A Fancy Dress Balls that,
where every guest Is in appropriate costume strictly dres't; The face to shew the character,
and age They paint, as is the custom of the stage; The mask's forbid the countenance to aid, For
"Fancy Ball" means not a "Masquerade." Grand Fancy Balls have oft' been given at Court, Where
royalty has sometimes deign'd to sport, Like those which Bath and Almack's now supply, For
taste and fancy with the Court that vie; Or those which Ranelagh * did once contain, The like
of which will scarce be seen again; But quite unlike such splendid Balls are those Which these
professors give, though you'd suppose From their announcement, that they're still the same;
But they resemble only in the name- Go to those Teachers Balls, you then will see They're nothing
like what they pretend to be; Instead of various characters arrayed In strict costume, where
fancy has display'd Her boundless whim, to variegate the scene, Where all the costumes of the
world are seen, Where ages past before you seem to rise, And strange outlandish beings meet
your eyes; And habits, manners, customs, all are shown With strict exactness, though before
unknown, Where you the world in miniature may view, Objects antique, familiar, strange, and
new: Egyptians, Medes, and Greeks walk to and fro, In costumes worn three thousand years ago.
(When these were nations the most fam'd on earth, Where science, arts, and learning had their
birth; But, strange reverse! they're now in darkness hurl'd, Who once gave laws and learning
to the world.) Here the swift Parthians your eyes will meet, So fam'd for victory in their feign'd
retreat; In the mind's eye here Marathon you see, And Salamis and fam'd Thermopolae; And gay
Palmyra's palaces (no more), And ancient Troy whose loss we all deplore. This mutability of
human kind, Must bring some strange reflections to the mind, And make us cry, oh! Time what hast
thou done, Whither are Tyre, and mighty Babylon? And lofty Thebes and Ninevah all gone. And
famous nations now all swept away, The wonder and the terror of their day; With other wonders
history has display'd, By Art produc'd, and by old Time decay'd- At Balls like these all may
be entertain'd, As characters are generally sustain'd By those of talent, who can represent
The characters just as dame Nature meant. But at these Teachers Balls there's not the kind Of
costume I've describ'd-their guests you'll find Are mostly dress'd in their own walking clothes,
Not Fancy Dresses, as you might suppose. Should persons there in character be found, They in
low slang and ribaldry abound; They're so unlike to what they represent, You only by the dress
know what is meant; And at some Fancy Balls where I have been, Not even one in strange costume
was seen. 

Bel . Such Balls are meant as catch penneys, by those Who laugh at all on whom they do impose. 

Jem . These teachers care not what they advertise, Their placards, like themselves, are filled
with lies; 

Bel . But strangers oft' too readily believe In all they hear and see, and thus deceive Themselves,
who then become the dupes and prey Of every rogue and sharper of the day. LADY PATRONESSES BALLS.

Bel . I hear some great Professors have of late Been striving much to imitate the great, la holding
Balls where they themselves elect Patronesses, * to keep their Balls select. 

Jem . That's not the Object, I will plainly show, As I the motives of these gentry know; For their
real object, boldly I'll maintain, Is not propriety, but hope of gain; How that's effected,
I will now explain, 'Tis done to feed the vanity of those Fair ladies, who the company compose,
Who never see the drift, but think it fine, If they as Lady Patronesses shine. 

Bel . With such mock quality, the thing's absurd, How their election's made, I've never heard;
No doubt the greatest talent is preferr'd. 

Jem . You are mistaken, talent has no avail, Money and interest only will prevail; None are elected
here by public voice, The great Professor only has the choice; From all the ladies he pretends
to choose, Those wanting means and interest he'll refuse; For talent without means here, as
at Court, With these Professors meet with no support. As proof this office is bestow'd for gain,
A child for once this honour did obtain. * 

Bel . These selfish wights 'tis plain now to perceive, Entirely live by those whom they deceive;
Another question I must ask you-pray How long in office do these ladies stay? 

Jem . They have the honour only for one night, Succeeding Balls give other dames that right;
One lady may two following nights preside, But she must pay to gratify her pride; In either meal
or malt,-he is not nice, But one or both will have, if yon serve twice. 

Bel . When these fair dames this envied office fill, Have they full power, and can they act at
will? 

Jem . They're Patronesses only by the name, But have no power to perform the same; 'Tis true they
have the title for the night, But, mark me! these fair ladies have no right To give admissions,
neither to reject Strangers from entering, though the Ball's select; The great Professor's
interest is at stake, They therefore dare not these objections make; There's one thing more
quite requisite to say, When chosen once, if absent, fines must pay. 

Bel . What! fine the ladies! mercy! how absurd! The most ungallant practice ever heard! How,
or by what means do they exact the fine? 

Jem . One great Professor levies it in wine. 

Bel . That fining ladies is a barbarous plan, It surely could not emanate from man. 

Jem . Ladies must now wear pockets, and what's worse, To fill the office will require a purse.

Bel . When once appointed "Lady Patroness," What is the office ? What do they profess? Do they
as stewards and directors act, And all the duties of the Ball transact? Do they the Ball-room
etiquette well know, And technic terms? Can they the figures show Of all the various dances
now in use, Quadrilles, the Spanish dances and Batteuse, With English Country dances, Ecosoise,
The figured Reels and stately Polonoise? Do they call out "your places, sirs," and say "Come,
show your number-is it B or A?" Does their official duty thus extend That they the gentlemen
should recommend To lady partners, and the ladies suit With such nice beaux as ladies can't
dispute? 

Jem . They know no more of what you have here laid down, Than children know the manners of the town;
* For many a patroness has never seen A Ball, or e'en a month at dancing been. At Almack's Balls
the Patronesses there Not only have to make the bill of fare, But chuse as guests such as they
may think fit; None but those patronized will they admit; But our Professors take a special
care, Such privileges their ladies never share. These Balls at most can have no other claim,
Than paltry imitations, and the name. CHARITY BALLS. 

Charity Balls do likewise now abound, There's scarce a week but new ones may be found; The holders
of these Balls not only state Some direful tale, but oft' exaggerate; P They have different
methods, yet they all agree In calling on the world for CHARITY. "Fire and Famine" oft' their
placards head, Or else the name of same good soul just dead; They various objects have, for some
profess "A widow's call," some " children in distress." * Others (to gain the stewards some
renown) Propose relief to half the poor in town. Strangers, who read, if they believe, must
own That all mankind are philanthropic grown. 

Bel . I cannot help applauding the intent, When CHARITY by them is really meant. 

Jem . 'Tis praiseworthy and kind, all must confess, To give to objects really in distress. I've
seen subscriptions for some persons made, Who constantly make Charity a trade, Whilst modest
merit often starves unknown, Afraid to ask, asham'd their case to own; While insolent and public
paupers share, Unmerited, both means and sumptuous fare. From all who grievous tales of want
relate, The public seldom can discriminate The real deservers, and too often give To those
wire as impostors wholly live. I have known some cases, which at Balls occurr'd, The truth of
which by many is averr'd, How persons have obey'd a widow's call, And taken tickets to support
her Ball; And that they might the worthy object aid, Have previously for all their tickets paid;
Yet when these friends do at the Ball attend, They find their charity they must extend, The Room
and band to pay for, or else they Must pocket the affront, and go away. * But all do not subscribe
the cause to serve, Nor does their charity that name deserve. 

Bel . 'Tis not all gold that glitters, you well know, For half their charity's mere outside show.

Jem . Many to have their names in print subscribe, And make their charity a sort of bribe. As some
subscribe thro' vanity alone, And others hope for faults they shall atone; And some propose
these Balls in hopes to gain Some office they've not merit to obtain, As stewards or directors,
or to be Appointed masters of the ceremony; A badge of office on their clothes to wear, A band
or star, or else a wand to bear; These honours on them awkward do appear, Like school boys who
break up but once a year. Such self-created jacks in office, are For self sufficiency beyond
compare: These officers do often privilege take, By right of office, and for privilege sake;
Give free admissions to their friends, that they May dance, tho' they've no charity to pay,
The dancing at these Balls, in general, is Nice sport for dancers, if they chuse to quiz: Many
stand up to dance, though they don't know A step or figure, or which way to go; But, in confusion,
run about and stare, Just like stray pigs when hunted in a fair; To set them right, there's not
the smallest hope, You might as well strive to convert the Pope; For ignorance is never wrong,
they say, Like pig on rope, they plunge on their own way. These Balls do teachers harm, for many
go To dance, who not one step of dancing know, But jump about and satisfied remain, And think
all right, if nobody complain. Six lessons * often make a feel presume To take the lead, and consequence
assume, If he can through a figure blundering go, Though he has not one dancing step to show.
These Charity Balls produce a spurious race Of dancers, quite devoid of art and grace, Who pester
every public place where they Can gain admission, though they seldom pay. Tho' I've made these
remarks, do not suppose 'Tis done that I may charity oppose; For I applaud the philanthropic
zeal Of those who for their fellow creatures feel: 'Tis in defence of dancing I exclaim, All
other views and motives I disclaim. ANNUAL BALLS. 

The Annual Balls I'll next explain, that you May see these Balls brought fairly into view; There's
scarce a Teacher, either great or small, But every season has his Annual Ball . Some Teachers
have their Annual Balls , which are Thus nam'd, you'll find, the public to ensnare; They call
them thus in hopes it may appear They only have one Ball within the year. To miss it, some couldn't
satisfied remain, 'Till that day twelvemonth should come round again; But when they've been,
what must he their surprise! Another Annual Ball next mouth supplies, Which makes these people
scarce believe their eyes; Who little know the great Professor's aim Is to catch strangers
by some specious name. 

Bel . To account why Annual Balls come round so soon, They reckon years, like Hindoos, by the
moon; They thus may have twelve " Annual Balls " a year, And make the time quite reasonable appear.

Jem . They seldom care for what the world may say, If they draw strangers to their Balls to pay;
Many print "Annual Balls," and what's still more, Were never known to have a Ball before; They
think 'twill pass them off upon the town, As long established and of some renown. They number
them like tickets for a Ball, As their first number's never very small; Mostly with twenty they
begin, to show They've long taught dancing, and the art must know; Yet some of these Professors,
I'll engage, Are not much more than twenty years of age. One has Parisian Balls, * but those who
dance Find nothing at them like those held in France; The name is all you'll find that's French,
the rest Is but a common English dance at best. SUBSCRIPTION BALLS. 

Subscription Balls must next attention claim, Those by Impostors held that bear the name;
Who advertise them on our gentry's plan, And seem to imitate them all they can. P 3 

Bel . In title only, for their plans you'll find, When they're compar'd, are of a different kind;
'Tis true that they Subscribers strive to gain, And try all means their money to obtain. A term
of Balls they will engage to give, Which seldom is completed whilst they live; * They care not
how nor whom they do admit, All that bring money they make amply fit To join these Balls, not like
the rich and great, Who to subscribers often hesitate, If they're not of high birth, rank, and
station, And oft' refuse great lords of the creation, Because they are not the noblesse of the
nation. The gentry have Committees, and rely That they subscribers rank and merit try; To see
no citizen or tradesman pass, To join and horrify the privileged class- To be secure, their
orders run thus far, To let none in eastward of Temple Bar. 

Bel . There's many citizens of sense and worth, Who far exceed these gentry of high birth: There's
instances in plenty I could state, Of poor, but titled, blocks in church and state. 

Jem . True, true, I did but generally allude That these nice gentry all Cits exclude; They think
a trader far below their station, Whom to make free with, would be degradation. Exceptions
certainly are sometimes made, For those who've made great fortunes by their trade; As our nobility,
I can't deny, Do sometimes to rich Citizens apply For what they call a "temporary supply." And
for these favours sometimes lay aside Those nice distinctions of patrician pride. If to these
Balls you wish to gain access, One of these requisites you must possess : You must he rich, or
boast a family name, No matter how or whence the money came The rich are ne'er refus'd, be who
they may, But needy men of science walk away. A Seavan, * though he half the world had seen, To
Memphis and the Pyramids had been, To join these Balls he ever might despair, Should he on foot
attempt to travel there. The soldier's welcome, though he only goes Into Hyde Park to fight
his country's foes. 

Bel . We are wandering far from what we had begun, And have in wide and long digressions run. 

Jem . All human beings have this fault you know, To wish to do what they ought not to do. In little
wanderings I some pleasure find, They serve as recreation to the mind To these Impostors' Balls
we can again Return, as there's fresh objects to explain. BALL ROOM DANCERS. 

Suppose we now for recreation's sake, A few remarks on Ball-room Dancers make; I mean those
self-sufficient guests who go To Balls, but neither Time nor Dancing know. Some future day,
more fully we'll explain Those Public Balls, and in the interim gain Fresh subject matter,
also can collect Those circumstances we can't recollect. 

Jem . I quite approve the reasons which you state, We'll then the subject well investigate.

Bel . I wish, Jemima, now to see you make Some imitations, (for amusement sake) Of those strange
Ball-Room Dancers we both know, I am certain you can their true pictures show. If I the various
styles of Dancing knew, And could hit off those silly elves like you, I often would amuse my Friends
awhile, By imitating the queer steps and style Which many ostentatiously display, Who think
none living dance as well as they I mean such guests as constantly advance They know each new
and fashionable dance, Yet use such antic steps, that you might swear They had learnt their
dancing at some wake or fair, With odd fantastic strides about they hop, Like a tame jack daw
in a Barber's shop They flounce about, draw up their knees like those Poor bears and camels led
about for shows. To see them dance, you'd think they had been taught On heated iron, or from Egypt
brought; * Go wrong for right, dance out of time, then say "'Tis all the fiddler's fault that
they don't play Right, or else the dancers no attention pay." These self-conceited wise pragmatic
elves Find fault with all but what they do themselves; 'Tis these I wish to see now imitated,
And others of that class whom I've not stated. 

Jem . You've fairly brought their practices to view, And your remarks on them are just and true.

Bel . Come try what you can do-we can't begin Just yet-you see the music's not come in. You've
time enough to imitate those elves Who so ridiculously expose themselves, They are all fair
game, for fools of every sort Have ever been, and ever will be sport For those wire have talent,
genius, taste and wit, And as a butt, to shoot at, only fit. 

Jem . If you'll assist me, I'll now try to make A trial or two, just for amusement sake. 

Bel . Most willingly, my dear, and I'll engage You'll hit them off as well as on the stage. 

Jem . We'll then begin with what is here best known, The Country dancing, which we call our own;
E'en that is generally danced so bad, that when You've formed the set, there's not one out of
ten Who know the figures, much less steps and grace, They dance as if the limbs were out of place:
"In leading down the middle," and besides What's so essential, "set and changing sides," Just
like pump-handles, both their arms they work, Bear down their partner's hands, like savage
Turk; Hop out of time, bend forward, scrape their feet, Like slip-shod beggars shuffling through
the street; Or else with toes turned in and knees half bent, They dancing caricatures well represent.

Bel . The cause of this may easily be seen, The English Country dance has lately been Neglected
for a foreign substitute; Any thing foreign John Bull's taste will suit. Now any one stands
up, aye without knowing Time, steps, or figures, how or where they're going. I never any see
but will advance, "That they with ease could dance a Country dance, "That any body may go down
(they say,) "Who'll watch the figure and attention pay." 

Jem . What they say's true, if figure's all you need, But that, as dancing's, sorry stuff indeed
Till these strange notions are exploded, we Shall never more good Country dancing see, THE
ENGLISH COUNTRY DANCE. 

A Country dance * would be a pleasing sight, If all perform'd the steps and figures right. This
dance for sociability is fam'd, And for construction few have yet been nam'd To equal it. The
scale progressive takes The leaders down, and then fresh leaders makes, However large the
party, one and all May join, and have successively a call. 

Bel . Its sociability I'll not dispute, It's structure will all idle dancers suit; There's
some by standing close, think none can tell The difference, whether they dance ill or well;
These, from the stupid and the lazy learn, To say and think none can their faults discern. But
they are most egregiously deceived, For a bad dancer's easily perceived. Of this they seem
unconscious, and persist In their own way, and good advice resist; The Country Dance when well
performed, you'll see Is scientific, and for sociability Unequalled, which all persons must
agree; I mean when well performed, with steps and grace, And when the dancers all keep time and
place. 

Jem . For popularity, the Country Dance Exceeded all the dances made in France; 'I was danced
at Foreign Courts, and at our own, In every clime where England e'er was known. 

Bel . The structure of the dance, I wish to know, And how composed, I'll get you now to show. 

Jem . On mathematic principles, you'll find This dance composed, with science well combin'd:
Of major and of minor sets [3] 'tis form'd, And may by fifty couples be perform'd: Has couples
neutral [8] and auxiliary, [5, 6, 7] A scale to take down each progressively, Which brings the
bottom to the top, where they May in their turn as leaders, lead the way.[4] 

Bel . I've often seen a Country Dance, when form'd In the same room, by several sets perform'd;
Are they all different dances, or the same? Do they bear, one or all, a different name? 

Jem . From the first row these sets all emanate. They're branches from it, and to that relate.
[1] However many rows or sets you find, To the same figure they are all confin'd, R And formed
numerically as 1, 2, 3, Or alphabetically as A, B, C; If in one line great numbers stand, you may
Divide them into sets as C, B, A; 'T will save milch time and less fatiguing prove, To those who
don't long Country Dances love; Where rooms are short and will in breadth admit, You may have
several sets, if you think fit, All formed in parellel lines that branch from A, Or the first
set, which means the same, you'll say; They're but continuations of one line, Where want of
length the dancers does confine. The tracks or figures [10] are named short [14] add long: [11]
To these denominations all belong, And they are in six different classes * form'd, Which show
their use and how they are perform'd. Irregular figures [18] too you'll likewise find, And
some have setting steps [19] with them combin'd, No correct knowledge of them can be gain'd,
Unless they are by diagrams explain'd; There's whole, [15] and half figures, [16] but then
you'll find, From length some whole are with the short combin'd; R3 Single and double figures
[26] must be known, Their uses and construction clearly shown 'Ere you compose know every figures
use, Their evolutions, simple or abstruse, And must know how such figures to select, As give
the dances interest and effect, [20] 'Ere you can dances make, you ought to show; With dancing
you a little music know: [28] And what are meant by bars, strains, [24] [25] and da capo, [29]
Long and Short Measure, [21] and the times that they Should all the various Country Dances play.
And tell what figures every tune will suit; [27] And know how short for long, to substitute;
The figure of the dance, [23] and figure bar, [22] You must explain, and know like ev'ning star;
And likewise know what figures to select, [31] To give the dances interest and effect. There's
some abuses dancers need reform, And duties they to others should perform As knowing how to
soit the dance to those Capacities who may the dance compose; [34] The keeping silence in the
dance, (35) that they May hear the music;-and attention pay To every figure in the dance, [37]
or where Each figure ends; (32) and how each wants their care, [38] Watch the progressive motion
of the dance, (9) (30) Know when to move, retire, or advance; The crowding to the top you should
avoid, (36) And know how every dancer is employ'd; When in the set, at proper distance stand,
That all may see and clearly understand What evolutions every figure makes, And what direction
every dancer takes. In leading down, you should know where to stop, And mind you're skill'd
before you take the top, With other matters I could here advance, 'Ere you can dance the English
Country Dance: I mean to dance it scientifically, And understand it systematically. There's
other terms and technicallities, And characters with figures and their qualities, Which
must be known with proper steps, and they When they're perform'd, must ease and grace display;
'Till this is done, no persons shou'd advance, That they well understand a Country Dance. Some
day by way of paradox, (39) I'll show, What may be done and what you ought to know; Which when explain'd,
I have no doubt, you'll own, That English Country Dancing's little known. 

Enter Musicians and Children . 

Here come some children, and the music too, They will assist in what we're going to do; They'll
help to form a set-with six you know, We then through any Country Dance can go. 

Jem . Now for a Country Dance, a set we'll make, I for my partner, will Miss Coupee take. Play us
"The Merry Thought," altho' not new, 'Twill what they call a merry sprightly air, 'Twill raise
the spirits, also banish care. 

Bel . Let's have it by all means, for you must know, My Spark's * base conduct's made me very low.
We are ready, sirs, 'tis time we have begun. 

Jem . Stop, sirs-we, for a Country Dance want one, And one who through a threesome Reel can go.

Bel . Then there's your Aunt Miss Biddy Frump below, Who's fond of dancing; and she often says,
She once was at a Ball two nights and days, Danc'd out three pair of shoes at that great Ball; That
fifty couples stood up to her call: Danced "Money Musk, "-"Cheshire Rounds,"-"Scotch Con-[tention,"
And many more hard figures she does mention.' There's nothing like them now, you'll hear her
say, She's so conceited in her formal way. 

Jem . She's what we want, and dances just like those Pretenders we are going to expose. Some lessons
in Quadrilles and Waltzing, she Once took, when courted by young Mr. B.; She lost her lover at
a grand Waltz Ball, So now hates modern dances, one and all. 'Twixt you and me, her imitations
are True pictures, for she's got them to a hair; We'll let her give the Reel in her own way, And
stand up merely to perform the hey; She's stiff and formal, sails along like those Stiff jointless
puppets, seen at penny shows. Her steps, her style, her manner now displays, What Ball-room
dancers were in former days; I won't say all, but many I well know, Dance like her, who learnt
fifty years ago. I'll call her up-'twill please her to a hair; She'll be delighted in a dance
to share. [ Exit Jemina . 

To the Musicians . 

Bel . Now, gentleman, I have one request to make, That when Miss Frump comes in, no heed you'll
take Of her, or of her dress, or her odd way, Nor how she dances, nor of what she says- She's rather
formal, which her dress will tell, Miss Biddy Frump's no Cranbourn Alley Belle. 

Enter Miss Frump and Jemima . 

Miss Frump . Hey day! what have we music here? that's right, I am overjoyed; we'll have a dance
to night. 

Jem . By all means aunt-for that I came to you; You now can help us out in something new. 

Miss Frump . I'll join in any thing, Country Dance or Reel, Can beat my steps, with either toe
or heel; Can run the hey-can figure out or in. 

Bel . 'Tis growing late-Jemima, let's begin. 

Jem . You know its Ball night, Aunt, and ten to one, Had it not rain'd, before this we'd begun.

Miss Frump . My toes are itching to begin; now say What it shall be, and bid the music play. 

Jem . I should have told you Aunt, that we propose To give some imitations, here of those New fangled
dances, Waltzes and Quadrilles, And those queer modern dancing jacks and jills. 

Miss Frump . You may say jacks and jills, for such queer guests I never saw, as Ball Rooms now infest.
If I could see them well expos'd, 'twould be The greatest pleasure you could give to me; I shall
be happy to make one, and show That I the auties of these gentry know. 

Bel . We'll now begin; here are Miss Frump and I, Who will the leading couple now supply. 

Jem . Play the dance I mentioned, sirs, rather slow; 

Musicians . I fear Miss, we that dance don't rightly know. 

Miss Frump (to Jemima.) 

What is the true? Have you the music brought? 

Jem . 'Tis you old favourite, Aunt-"The Merry Thought." 

Miss Frump . A charming tune-the Merry Thought I love; If it's well play'd, ah! that will make
you move. I'm for a merry tune; at our last Ball, I * "Butter'd Peas" and "Jack's Alive" did call.

Jem . If you don't recollect the Merry Thought, now play The last new tune, call'd "Buxom, Young,
and Gay." We're ready, sirs-three chords, and then begin; Come to your places, children-now
stand in. 

Bel . Dance as you've just describ'd them, then 'twill be Instruction and amusement both for
me. 

Miss Frump . I'll show you how I have seen some sorry fops, Dance Country Dances, at your modern
hops. 

( They Dance .) 

Bel . This is just like them, and I wish these elves Could only see what fools they make themselves;
Instead of Country dancing, I am quite sure, Foreigners would call such stuff a caricature.

Jem . To see them dance, 'twould never be supposed The dance was on true principles composed;
So unlike mathematic rules they go, From what they do, a stranger scarce would know The middle
or beginning, or intent Of those who dance, or what is really meant; And what's still more, the
time they seldom keep, Some run the figures-others through them creep So slow, they lose the
time; whilst those who run, Will end the figures 'ere the tune's hand done. The music seems no
guide, tho' all advance, Without good music they can never dance; They know not good from bad-quick
tunes will please, They'd dance as well to warning pan and keys, With which old women mostly
swarm their bees. 

Bel . Now for a Quadrille, and let us straight proceed, My Aunt, Miss Frump, and I, will take the
lead; Play the first set sirs, the tunes you know, Not very quick, but sweetly moderato. 

Jem . Quadrilles are generally played so quick, not one In ten can dance the steps, they're forced
to run. Without the music's played in time correct, And well in tune, with taste and some effect;
Dancing can never please, be what it will, Waltzing, Country Dancing, or Quadrille: Musicians
should not bear quite all the blame, Composers to a portion have a claim; For many authors now
Quadrilles compose, Who never try to make-what some suppose, Simple melody; but all their
art display, To make them cramp and difficult to play. 

Bel . There's many of them if play'd e'en so well, Will never please the ear, nor ever sell; For
they forget, simplicity and ease In Music, as in verse will always please. 

Jem . Quadrilles have lately so fast multiplied, That all the world from us may be supplied;
The dancer makes Quadrilles, as he supposes, And every crotched-monger now composes; Each
on the town his own chef d'ouvre imposes. Numbers we have-but numbers you well know, Too frequently
but serve to make a show; Experience always quality prefers, And says one lion's worthfull
20 curs; That half the new Quadrilles-I proof can bring, Are like a fiddler harping on one string:
Examine them-they are as like each other, As bairns of honest wife are like their mother; Like
Country Dance Collections, made for gain, They're mostly spun from some dull foolish brain.
Some think their name in print at once will show, That they Quadrilles and Dancing really know;
That they'll make something new there's little hope, As they but twist and untwist the same
rope; From "the First Set," or old Cotillions they Make "new Quadrilles" for such they are,
they say- Examine them; and those they'd pass as new Would make a Frenchman shrug and "sacre
dieu." They're immethodical and not combin'd, And of a species of no national kind; The French
and English styles are there confused, And every rule of science is abused. Yet they at something
national will try, And on a name or bagpiper rely; * A print, they think, will often make fools
buy. So our professors put their trust in these Devices-which do fools and children please;
And give them titles (if not rational) To make you think they're really national; A striking
title they've been told will tell, And oft' will make the sorriest rubbish sell; Therefore
you'll find we've Cameronians- Hibernians and Caledonians:" And many other catching names,
which they In large and ornamental type display; You from their titles might expect to find,
Some steps and figures of a national kind. The name is all that's national, the rest Is but mere
imitation at the best; s 3 What they call Scotch, auld Reckie would disown, Their steps nor figures
would as Scotch be known; * Of these there's various sets-yet all declare Their's are original-others
spurious ware; The tunes they in these new Quadrilles display, Are Reels and Songs that Scotch
bagpipers play; When e'en a set is danced that gains a name, A dozen sets tho' different bear
the same. Those term'd "Hibernians," the town beguile, Which are not Irish in their form or
stile; The name is all-the figures are the same, As those which are well known-they trust to
name; And should they differ, call them and I'll bet, The figures danced are those of the first
set. This is the dancer's fault and serves to show That they stand up to what they do not know;
For time, length, figures, it is now confest, The old first set's a guide to all the rest, Which
are composed of the same length, that they The old first set of figures may display; Six sets,
some say "they've have danced at such a Ball," But danced the figures of the first to all. * Composers
know what dancers of our day, Are as to memory, not quite so au fait As Caesar, * who could recollect,
'tis said, Five hundred soldiers names on the parade; or famous Magliabecchi who, I've heard,
Could volumes recollect, aye, word for word. 

Bel . Comparisons like these are wide and big, As 'twixt the premier and the learned pig; For
modern dancers heads are different made, They know no figures , but those used in trade. 

Jem . They to new music now old figures use, And call them new, well knowing few refuse To dance
or purchase any thing that's new, And take for granted what they're told is true. To hear the
first set played it now would be, Aye next to an impossibility; For when the first set's called,
musicians say Thus to each other, "Now what shall we play?" For practice or to please some leading
crotchet, They something new select and mostly botch it: Musicians will too oft, to shew their
skill, Play strange new sets, but then perform them ill. 

Bel . Many of those new sets are very bad, If tried by rule only notes run mad: This makes the dancers
curse these innovations, And scratch their ears to hear such mutilations; And with (for tune
and time, not tuneless noise,) They'd keep their senseless trash for girls and boys, And play
the original music, which rely, Would suit the dance, and dancers satisfy. 

Jem . All ought to play it-all this set should know, And if they cannot, should renounce the bow.

Bel . Since first Quadrilles were introduced, you'll find Musicians have improved of every
kind; They're forced to practice and obliged to read, And this to some is punishment indeed.

Jem . There's some Quadrilles so difficult to play, They would quite poze some fiddlers of the
day, 

Bel . Is all the music of these sets composed, And really new, as many have supposed. 

Jem . For half the sets the music is selected, From Overtures and Operas its collected; Yet these
composers to it put their name, And call it theirs, as they've no sense of shame; Then plead that
others have done so before, And of such honest authors name a score. Some crotchet splitters
who cannot (I've heard) An octave count, or reck up a third; Hearing "the Lancers" produced
pelf and fame, Have turned composers, and now print their name; Their merits must be obvious
to those Who know these authors, and who can compose. 

Bel . How do they get them danced, for who would call Such compositions at a Real Grand Ball. 

Jem . If not at Balls-there's yet another way, To have them danced by sweeps the first of May.

Bel . Yet some Quadrilles, which I don't recollect By name, are beautiful and have effect; And
far exceed the usual Country Dance; And e'en those sets which have been brought from France,
For many of them have been made by those, Who for our national theatres compose; They're pleasing,
tasteful, have variety, And may be harmonized with great propriety. Quadrilles our Ball Room
music have improv'd, The Country Dance Monotony's * remov'd. 

Bel . Besides those new Quadrilles composed in France, What other sets in public do they dance?

Jem . The Lancers and Der Freischutz stand confess'd To be most known altho' they're not the
best: Some foreigners, who want not taste or skill, Declare they're not the genuine Quadrille;
In their construction they have boldly stated, The rules of art have all been violated. The
Lancers is a figure dance, they say, In which no dancers can their skill display, A sort of heretogeneous
childrens play. Ability and steps are not required, To dance those Lancers now so much admired.

Bel . They're English Dances I must here admit. 

Jem . Foreigners say for Johnny Bull quite fit. 

Bel . Be as they may, these dances mostly please, And what's more cheering may be learnt with
ease; And now are danced by all, both old and young, The music's prized, the tunes are danced
and sung. 

Jem . But in "Der Freichutz" figures, * there no doubt, The author's genius could not bear him
out; He only has three figures if you look, The other two from the first set be took; And thos are
not perhaps what some expected, They're from the Lancers and first set selected; But Freichutz
had a name-a name's enough, To pass off any trite or wretched stuff; The music of this set, I will
engage, Will please as long as Freichutz on the stage; If Freichutz figures should want novelty,
Character, arrangement, and variety; Composers are not always here to blame, The fault's
oft' dancers, (say it to their shame) For when that something new should he propos'd, From fear
or ignorance the thing's oppos'd; And if attempted, those stand up to try, To whom Dame Nature
did the art deny To see such dance new sets would drive you crazy, For some want ears, and some
are dull and lazy; Then fools of all sorts always do (depend) Find fault with what they do not
comprehend; They're "nasty ugly things" they mostly say, "Can only he the fashion of the day."

Bel . Yet these declaimers will not hesitate, To learn that slyly they pretend to hate. 

Jem . To make out something new each teacher tries, And with old figures new Quadrilles supplies;
And some have title-if not rational, To make you think they're really national. 

Bel . Whatever's popular is thread-bare worn, Aye, turned and twisted, and to atoms torn; To
eke it out-its patched and so extended, And e'en with different colours often mended; And made
as common as the king's highway, Or postman's livery that's seen every day Till like the dandy
horses-now laid by, Quadrilles will of the popular surfeit die; The term Quadrille's not to
that dance confin'd, For they with other dances are combin'd Some of the Waltz and Country Dance
* partake, Others from form alone their titles take; T Yet there are those who better things
could dance, (If e'en composers would give them a chance,) And dance Quadrilles such as we've
seen in France, Now tell me which Quadrilles you think the best. 

Jem . The original French first set is now confessed, For merit to exceed e'en all the rest: At
many places the "First Set," is all That's danced, or ever asked for at a Ball; Sometimes the
second set is used, but they Do no originality display For if you look, I think I'm not mistaken,
The three first figures from the first are taken. * The old first set is all that thousands know,
Tho' they to Quadrille Balls do constant go; From them you'll find some hundred sets are made,
Which if not danced, have yet made good for trade; And many have been used with special care,
In forming dolls and curling ladies hair Of "Paine's, of Almacks," sixteen sets I'm told, Or
more were published if they were not sold; Paine's followed the first set, and then were all
The town supplied, or were danced at a Ball; Tho' in them there's not much variety, The figures
are composed with some propriety They're French-the tunes have mostly been selected, Or altered
so to hide from whence collected; To these succeeded sets of every kind, To nation, style-nor
character confin'd. 

Bel . The "Old First Set," I must confess to you, I never yet throughout correctly knew. 

Jem . You'll find this card ( gives a card ) the figures does contain, The technic terms of art
I will explain; With only four, the first set you may dance, But new Quadrilles (which some say
come from France,) Want eight to form a set-for reasons why, They can't appropriate figures
now supply; For sets of four, new figures can't he found, For greater numbers figures do abound;
Since first the mania for Quadrilles existed, Every old figure has been turned and twisted;
And many figures are fresh nam'd by those Who would as new-them on the town impose, Now as the
rage for new Quadrilles increases, They pull the old Cotillions all to pieces- To form out something
new, but then you'll say, That talent few professors now display, They've not from Euclid,
* or Archimedes, Drawn their resources to instruct and please; But from each other, taking
it for granted, They're quite as good and regular as wanted; And if they're not quite mathematical,
Or are not strictly geometrical; They're yet what pass for new Quadrilles, but they Can only
live and flourish for a day. 

Bel . Although I have danced Quadrilles, yet I must own, Their real construction is to me unknown,
As also are the technic terms of art, Their meaning I must beg you to impart; The names the figures
hear, their qualities, Their use, and other technicalities, What length these dances are,
and if composed Scientifically, as it's supposed What sort of music these Quadrilles require,
Their time, their stile, and length, I must enquire. This knowledge I am anxious to attain;

Jem . These subjects I'll endeavour to explain. The technic terms of art you well should know,
'Ere you to Quadrille Balls attempt to go Learn them by heart, that when you dance, you may Know
what comes next, and be what's term'd au fait. Quadrilles are form'd in Octagons and Squares,
The couples stand quite opposite in pairs; Each lady on her partner's right they place, Then
opposite a gentleman she'll face. The top is where the dance begins, and may If dancers please,
be form'd a different way; Four tops and bottoms has each dance in turn, * And how they're made
you from this card may learn. Quadrilles are either 2 4 or 6 8, From these two times Quadrilles
all emanate, And each Quadrille's composed as a Rondo, As every tune must end with a Da Capo;
Figures are long and short; the long will take Eight bars, when you their evolutions make; The
short require but four, and they may be Danced in that time, with great propriety. 

Bel . How many figures does each dance contain? 

Jem . Your card their names and numbers will explain. The genuine figures have French names
you'll find, Others are mostly of a mongrel kind; Some of the principal I'll here select, And
give the names of those I recollect. T 3 There's Promenade, * Grand Chaise, Ballancez, Dos a
Dos, Les Lignes, Grand Rend, Traversez, Chaine des Dames, Le Tiroir, Chassez Ouvert, Chassez
en Avant et en Arriere, Tours de Mains, Pousette, Chassez Croissez, Quen du Chat, Grand Quarree,
Moulinet, Chaine Auglaise, Lei Olivettes, I'Etoile, And others I can't now to memory call,
The whole of which you ought to understand, With proper steps to use at your command; And not
he like some dancers I well know, Who will stand up, not knowing where to go; Who have no steps
but those taught by their nurses, Whose partners load them tacitly with curses. 

Bel . Tell me the steps you in Quadrilles may use, That I may know their names, and which to chuse.

Jem . There's Chassez Jettee Assemblee, Rigadon, Pas de Basque, Emboitee, Coupee Entrechats,
Balancez, * Besides the French, for persons, names, and things, (Which the Quadrille in requisition
brings) And situations where the persons stand, You must have French for, and must understand.

Bel . They now in English the Quadrilles explain, As few who dance can any French attain. Respecting
sets, one thing I must enquire, How many persons will a set require? 

Jem . Of various numbers Quadrille sets they make, As 4, 8, 12, and some 16 will take; How to form
sets of 12, likewise 16, And how they act may by the plans be seen. With 4 the first set you may dance
with ease, Eight's more convenient, and will sooner please; The usual number's 8-with those
you may Make every figure, and the dance display. There's sometimes sets of 12 and 16 form'd,
Which in oblique directions are perform'd. 

Bel . I never lik'd Quadrilles perform'd this way, To me they seem'd confus'd, I needs must say,
Upon the stage perhaps the plan may be Resorted to with some propriety. There all should face
the audience if they can, This to effect, they use the oblique plan; No such pretence for Ball-rooms
can I grant, For there each side's successively a front. The meaning of a set can you explain?
Does it to dance or persons appertain? 

Jem . To call a dance the tune and figure's meant To make a set the form's to represent, By persons
plac'd in couples, so that they The Quadrille form may in a square display. When sets are nam'd,
as "the first set," you'll find To tune and figure then the term's confin'd. 

Bel . There's one thing more I wish you would explain, How many dances does a set contain? 

Jem . A set has five Quadrilles, and sometimes six, But live they as the average number fix; *
The last they term "finale," means the end, To this some extra figure they append. What's term'd
short sets are not alone, you'll find, Unto the number of Quadrilles confin'd, For in some dances
figures are left out, To suit some shallow memories no doubt; Or else some idle dancer's whim
to please, As in Finale, and in la Trenise. * 

Bel . There's short and long finales, I've heard say; What are they? are they danc'd a different
way? 

Jem . A short finale's "Grand Rend and l'Ete," To make a long one add "Le Moulinet;" A short set's
five, a long set six contains, The figures for these sets your card explains. 

Bel . Are those correct, for I've heard people say, That piracy's the or'der of the day; Some
dancers from this charge are not exempt, Who treat fair dealing with a mark'd contempt, For
what they steal they do not hesitate To alter, transpose, change, and mutilate. There's one
thing more must be attended to, But which I trust need scarce be told to you, When you stand up,
don't like some silly elves, Whose vanity makes them expose themselves, Attempt to lead till
you the dance well know, But take the side, and you'll know where to go. From side positions Tyros
may discern The steps with ease, and may the figures learn; Avoid the bottom too, for that's
a place Where would be dancers oft' incur disgrace, For they act mostly with the top, so they
Should know the dance, and great attention pay, So take the side till you are quite au fait. When
the Quadrille begins, I here must state, The first eight bars the dancers always wait; * The
honours in that interval should be Perform'd-the usual mark of courtesy. Not the first only,
but in every dance, You wait 8 bars before you should advance, And in that time the honors should
repeat, And at the end, and ere you take your seat. * 

Bel . How many bars of music are conntain'd In each Quadrille, you have not yet explain'd. 

Jem . Each dance contains of music bars I'll say From 4 to 48, and there's some may Be 56-but 8 the
dancers take 'Ere they begin the honours for to make. 

Bel . The Quadrille figure bar I've often seen; Can you explain those dots, and What they mean?

Jem . 'Tis given to show what music figures take, And to divide them for the dancer's sake; Each
dot plac'd thus [???] four bars does represent- When there are four [???] then sixteen bars
is meant. 

Bel . When you stand up, by what rule do you go, That you the top of the Quadrille may know ? 

Jem . When the set's form'd, the dancers then agree Which takes the lead, and which the top shall
be; Look at the plan, there each position's shown, And top and bottom may with case be known.
* 

Bel . The practice is, and which you've seen no doubt At many Balls, to call the figures out. 

Jem . 'Tis dune for those who cannot recollect. 

Bel . You'll own it has a school-boy like effect.