and ingenuity delineated the nature, objects, and powers of dancing, and shown how much it may be ennobled by an acquaintance with the kindred arts.

Ballets, he observes, have hitherto been only faint sketches of what they may one day become; for, as they constitute an art entirely subservient to taste and genius, they may receive daily variation and improvements. History, painting, mythology, poetry, all join to raise it from that obscurity in which it is buried, and it is only surprising that composers have hitherto disdained so many valuable accessories and resources. "If ballets, therefore," says he, "are for the most part uninteresting and uniformly dull; if they fail in the characteristic expression which constitutes their essence; the defect does not originate from the art itself, but should be ascribed to the artist. Are then the latter yet to learn that dancing is an imitative art? I am indeed inclined to think that they know it not, since we daily see them sacrifice the beauties of the dance, and give up the graceful naïveté of sentiment to become the servile copyists of a certain number of figures known and hackneyed for above a century.

"Ballet-masters should consult the productions of the most eminent painters. This would bring them nearer to nature, and induce them to avoid, as often as possible, that formality of figures which by repeating the object presents two different pictures on one and the same canvass. figures must give way to nature in what we call ballets d'action. An instance may serve to support and elucidate my argument.

Such

"At the sudden and unexpected appearance of some young fauns, a troop of nymphs take themselves to flight with equal terror and precipitation. The former are in pursuit of the latter, with that eagerness which the very hope of pleasure can inspire. Now they stop to observe what impression they have made on the nymphs; these, at the same time, and for a similar reason, check their career with fear they survey their pursuers, and endeavour to guess at their intentions and provide for a retreat to some spot where they may rest secure from the dangers that threaten them. Both troops now join, the nymphs resist, defend themselves, and at last effect their escape with no less swiftness than dexterity.

• This I call a busy active scene, in which the dance, as

it were, should speak with energy. Here studied and symmetrical figures cannot be introduced without a manifest violation of the truth, without weakening the action and lessening the effect. The scene should be conspicuous for its beautiful disorder, and the art of the composer must here be the handmaid of nature.

"Perhaps some ill-disposed critics, so far strangers to the art as not to judge of it from its various effects, will maintain that the above scene should pursue only two different objects; the one portrayed in the love-sick fauns, the other expressed by the affright of the nymphs. But how many shades may serve to embellish these pictures-how varied may be the strokes of the pencil? how opposite the lights— and what a number of tints ought to be employed in order to draw from this twofold situation a multiplicity of images, each more lively and spirited than the other! The truth of imitation and the skill of the painter should conspicuously appear in giving a different aspect to the features; some of them expressing a kind of ferocity, others betraying less eagerness; these casting a more tender look; and to the rest the languishing air of voluptuousness. The sketch of this first picture naturally leads to the composition of the second: here some nymphs appear divided between fear and desire; there some others express by the contrast of their attitudes the various emotions of the soul. This ensemble gives life to the whole picture, and is the more pleasing that it is perfectly consistent with nature. From this exposition you will not hesitate to agree with me that symmetry, the offspring of art itself, should never find place in the ballet d'action.

"I shall beg leave to inquire of all those who reason from habitual prejudice, whether they will look for their favourite symmetry in a herd of sheep flying from the wolf, or among wretched peasants leaving their huts and fields in order to shelter themselves from the fury of a party of enemies? Certainly not. But the art lies in concealing art itself; my aim is by no means to introduce disorder and confusion; on the contrary, I will have regularity even in irregularity. What I most insist on is the introducing of wellconcerted groups, situations forcibly expressed, but never beyond nature; and above all, a certain ease in the composition which betrays not the labour of the composer.

"A ballet, perfect in all its parts," our author proceeds to observe, "is a picture drawn from life, of the manners, It must, dresses, ceremonies, and customs of all nations. therefore, be a complete pantomime, and through the eyes speak, as it were, to the very soul of the spectator. If it want expression, if it be deficient in point of situation and scenery, it degenerates into a spectacle equally flat and monotonous."

According to Plutarch a ballet is, if the expression may be allowed, a mute conversation, or a speaking and animated picture, whose language consists of motions, figures, and gestures, unlimited in their number, because there are no bounds to the varieties of expression. A well-composed ballet, therefore, may do without the assistance of speakers. M. Noverre indeed remarks, in the very spirit of his profession, that these only serve to weaken the action, and partly destroy its effects; and he declares that he has no opinion of a pantomime, which, in order to be understood, must borrow the help of verbal explanation. "Any ballet whatever," he says, "destitute of intrigue, action, and interest, displaying nothing more than the mechanical beauties of the art, and, though decorated with a pompous title, unintelligible throughout, is not unlike those portraits and pictures to which the painters of old subscribed the names of the personages and actions they meant to represent; because they were imperfect in point of imitation, the situations weakly expressed, the outlines incorrect, and the colours unseemly.

"When dancers shall feel, and, Proteus-like, transfer themselves into various shapes to express to the life the conflict of passions,-when their looks shall speak their inward sensations,-when, extending their arms beyond the narrow circle prescribed by pedantry, and with equal grace and judgment giving them a fuller scope, they shall by proper situations describe the gradual and successive progress of the passions; when, in fine, they call good sense and genius to the assistance of their art, then they may expect to distinguish themselves: explanatory speeches will become useless; a mute but powerful eloquence will be substituted to much better effect; each motion will be a sentence; every attitude will betray a situation; each gesture convey a thought, each glance a new sentiment; and

every part will please, because the whole will be a true and faithful imitation of nature."

Whether human beings can be found to realize this beau ideal of an accomplished dancer we cannot determine, not wishing to compromise ourselves upon a matter of such vital importance; but it must be confessed that the enthusiastic ballet-master disserts upon the subject con gusto, con amore. Had he written with his feet he could not have been more earnest, eloquent, and impressive, though we cannot help still suspecting that the eight parts of speech are capable of expressing our feelings more effectually and intelligibly than the five positions, however they may be imbued with a mute conversational power under the plastic modification of M. Noverre.

CHAPTER XVII.

Dancing, concluded.

"If an exercise so sociable and enlivening were to occupy some part of that time which is lavished on cards, would the youth of either sex be losers by it? I think not. It seems to me there can be no impropriety in it, any more than in modulating the voice into the most agreeable tones in singing, to which none, I think, will object. What is dancing, in the most rigid sense, but the harmony of motion rendered more palpable? Awkwardness, rusticity, ungraceful gestures, can never surely be meritorious."-Fordyce's Sermons to Young Persons.

FROM the preceding chapter it will appear that ballets are in some degree subject to the rules of poetical composition, though they differ from the regular drama by not requiring the three unities of time, place, and action. The ballet, therefore, may be termed the brother of the drama, unrestrained by those stricter regulations which only serve to cramp the imagination and confine genius. M. Noverre considers tragedy as the subject most suitable for the art of dancing, since it abounds in those noble incidents and situations which produce the best stage effects. Besides, the passions are more forcibly expressed in great characters, the imitation is of course less difficult, and the action in the

pantomime more significant, natural, and intelligible. The business of a skilful master (he observes) is to foresee, as it were, at one glance, the general effect that may result from the whole; and to forget for a while the principal characters of the drama. If his entire attention should be taken up with the parts of the first dancers of both sexes, the action is suspended, the scenes are slow in their progress, and the whole performance must fall short of its desired effect. Every thing that may thus tend to weaken the ballet ought to be carefully avoided, and only that number of actors should be introduced which is requisite for the proper execution of the performance, the whole of which must have its beginning, its middle, and its end, or, in other words, exposition, plot, and denouement.

In fine, a ballet-pantomime should be dramatic in all its parts; and the figure dancers, who succeed to the principal performers, ought to continue the scene, not by a number of symmetrical figures and studied steps, but by that kind of animated expression which keeps up the attention of the spectators to the main subject for which the preceding actors have prepared them. Yet, either through ignorance, or in consequence of a vitiated habit, there are but few wellsupported ballets. Dance is introduced for the mere purpose of dancing; the end is supposed to be answered by the mechanical motion of the feet, or by high jumping; and inactive performers are introduced, who mix with and jostle each other, presenting a confused heap of pictures, sketched without taste, awkwardly grouped, and totally devoid of that harmony and expression, the offspring of the soul, which can alone embellish art by giving it life.

In considering the knowledge necessary for attaining perfection in this art, M. Noverre observes, "that mythology, ancient poetry, and chronology should form the primary studies of a ballet-master, who ought also to possess a genius for poetry and painting, since the art borrows all its charms from a perfect imitation of nature. A slight knowledge of geometry also cannot but prove highly advantageous, as it will help the master to introduce his figures in due proportion, to calculate exactly, and to execute with precision. By means of that unerring guide he will retrench every superfluous accessory, and thus enliven the performance.

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