CHAPTER XLIV.

ON DANCE.

THAT innate feeling of man which desires to manifest sentiments of joy, throws the voice into song, the speech into verse, and our gestures into dance. It is found to exist among all nations, even the most rude and barbarous; and it is evident that this universal disposition to joyous action may be referred to the peculiar structure of the human body.

But dancing is not confined to those outward expressions which spring from a feeling of gladness; taste and genius have by degrees formed it into an art, in which the 'sentiments of the mind and pas'sions are expressed by measured steps or bounds, 'that are made in cadence, by regulated motions of 'the body and graceful gestures; all of which can 'only be successfully produced by that law of na' ture called rhythm.'

To mark out the rhythm as a governing principle in these motions, music has been found to be the most efficient method. In the dances of savages, this is simply done by the clapping of hands, or the beating of a drum; but since melody and the phrases of music are capable of making the finest gradations in rhythm perceptible to the ear, not only grace, but passion and sentiment have followed as natural expressions in the motion and carriage of the human form.

In the time of Charles II., the dancing music in this country was so uncouth and vulgar, that it is doubtful whether the graces of the ball room exceeded those of the village barn of the present day. So inappropriate were the strains, that we find Purcel's song of 'Mad Tom' converted into a dance tune by Playford. In France and Italy, dancing was evidently brought much nearer to a state of perfection, as we may infer from the music which has come down to us. The refined compositions of Corelli exhibit many instances, not only of correct rhythm, but graceful melody; and in his lighter compositions, we find specimens of the dance tunes of the day, which he designates allemands, jigs, correnti, sarabands, gavotts, and minuetts.

As an elegant art, dancing has ever followed in the train of music, and its advances have entirely depended upon the great improvement which melody has acquired.

Boccherini, probably, was the first composer who ornamented his sonatas with those fluent strains, which imparted to the motion of dance that ease and grace which surrounded the Spanish court. It is questionable if Haydn is not indebted to this great master for the first hints of an embellished style, which laid the foundation of the new school of music. In his first quartett occurs the following specimen of a dancing minuet, which gave the taste to all subsequent pieces of this kind.

b.

Da Capo.

Haydn, we believe, was the first composer who introduced the trio, or second minuet, written in the milder key of the sub-dominant,* which, by its softened character, agreeably refreshed the ear for the return of the previous key. The highest attainments in dancing are introduced into the ballet, which is a dramatic tale told on the stage by gestures and action; a pantomimic picture, in which all the blandishments of elegant forms are united to music and scenery. It is important in the ballet, that the music should possess every passionate and graceful quality, so as to excite in the dancers such

* The sub-dominant is the 5th below the tonic, as the dominant is the 5th above.

a correspondent feeling, that their movements should form a language to the eye, expressing all the affections of the soul!

Monsieur Noverre observes, 'that a well com'posed ballet requires not the assistance of words; 'that a verbal explanation only serves to weaken 'the action, and partly destroy the effect.' As a specimen of that kind of music, which may be said to interpret the gestures of the dancers, we may mention Steibelt's grand ballet of La Belle Laitière, in which the celebrated Parisot fascinated the spectators for a hundred nights by her inimitable shawl dance,† wherein she displayed every grace that beauty and music could suggest. Though France has hitherto excelled every nation in the performance of the ballet, she is probably more indebted to the vivacity of the people, and their taste for spectacle, than to any genius that they possess for the art. In Germany every ear is attuned to music, and every village has its peculiar dance. Their dances are engaging, because they are the offspring of nature; and their musical tact gives them an animation and nicety of execution no where else to be found.‡

A dancer, whose ear is not attuned to rhythm and melody, 'steps without order and wanders from

* A wit being asked what could be done to keep up an opera that was threatened with complete damnation, Do! (says he) why lengthen the dances, and shorten the petticoats.'

† For this dance, see page 238.

Vide the Waltz in the Freischütz, 129.