Till Faillet, the pride of Gallia, rofe,
And did the dance in characters compose ;
Each lovely grace by certain marks he taught,
And ev'ry step in lafting volumes wrote.
Hence o'er the world this pleafing art shall spread,
And ev'ry dance in ev'ry clime be read;

By diftant mafters fhall each step be seen,
Tho' mountains rise, and oceans roar between:
Hence, with her fifter arts, fhall Dancing claim
An equal right to universal fame;

'And Ifaac's Rigadoon fhall live as long,
As Raphael's painting, or as Virgil's fong.
Wife Nature, ever with a prudent hand,
Difpenfes various gifts to ev'ry land;
To ev'ry nation frugally imparts

A genius fit for fome peculiar arts;

To trade the Dutch incline, the Swiss to arms;
Mufick and verse are soft Italia's charms;
Britannia justly glories to have found

Lands unexplor'd, and fail'd the globe around:
But none will fure presume to rival France,
Whether the forms, or executes, the dance;
To her exalted genius 'tis we owe

The fprightly Rigadoon, and Louvre flow,
The Borée, and Courant, unpractis'd long,
Th' immortal Minuet, and the fmooth Bretagne,
With all thofe dances of illuftrious fame,
That from their native country take their name;
With thefe let ev'ry ball be first begun,
Nor country-dance intrude till these are done.
Each cautious bard, ere he attempts to fing,
First, gently flutt'ring, tries his tender wing;
And if he finds that, with uncommon fire,
The Mufes all his raptur'd soul inspire,

1

Fuillet wrote the Art of Dancing, by characters, in French, fince transe

lated by Weaver.

At

At once to heav'n he foars in lofty odes,
And fings alone of heroes and of gods;
But if he, trembling, fears a flight fo high,
He then defcends to fofter elegy;

And, if in elegy he can't fucceed,

In paft'ral he may tune the oaten reed.

So fhall the dancer, ere he tries to move,

With care his ftrength, his weight, and genius, prove ;-
Then, if he finds kind Nature's gifts impart
Endowments proper for the Dancing art;

If in himself he feels, together join'd,
An active body, and ambitious mind;
In nimble Rigadoons he may advance,
Or in the Louvre's flow, majestick dance.
If these he fears to reach, with eafy pace
Let him the Minuet's circling mazes trace.
Is this too hard-this, too, let him forbear,
And to the country-dance confine his care.

Would you in Dancing ev'ry fault avoid,
To keep true time be your first thoughts employ'd;
All other errors they in vain fhall mend,
Who in this one important point offend:
For this, when now united hand in hand,
Eager to start the youthful couple stand;
Let them awhile their nimble feet reftrain,
And with foft taps beat time to ev'ry strain.
So, for the race prepar'd, two courfers itand,
And with impatient pawings spurn the fand.

In vain a master fhall employ his care,
Where Nature once has fix'd a clumfy air;
Rather let fuch, to country sports confin'd,
Pursue the flying hare, or tim❜rous hind:
Nor yet, while I the rural fquire defpife,
A mien effeminate would I advise;
With equal fcorn I would the fop deride,
Nor let him dance-but on the woman's fide.

And

1

And you, fair nymphs, avoid, with equal care,
A ftupid dulnefs, and a coquette air;

Neither with eyes, that ever love the ground,
Afleep, like fpinning tops, run round and round;
Nor yet, with giddy looks, and wanton pride,
Stare all around, and skip from fide to fide.
True Dancing, like true wit, is beft exprefs'd
By nature only, to advantage drefs'd.
'Tis not a nimble bound, or caper high,
That can pretend to please a curious eye:
Good judges no fuch tumbler's tricks regard,
Or think them beautiful, because they're hard.
"Tis not enough, that ev'ry ftander-by

No glaring errors in your fteps can spy:
The dance and mufick must so nicely meet,
Each note fhould feem an echo to your feet;
A nameless grace muft in each movement dwell,
Which words can ne'er exprefs, or precepts tel!;
Not to be taught, but ever to be feen
In Flavia's air, and Chloe's easy mien.
'Tis fuch an air that makes her thousands fall,
When Fielding dances at a birth-night ball;
Smooth as Camilla fhe fkims o'er the plain,
And flies, like her, thro' crowds of heroes flain.
Now, when the Minuet, oft repeated o'er-
Like all terreftrial joys-can please no more;
And ev'ry nymph, refusing to expand
Her charms, declines the circulating hand;
Then let the jovial country-dance begin,
And the loud fiddles call each ftraggler in:
But, ere they come, permit me to disclose,
How first, as legends tell, this paftime rose.

In ancient times-fuch times are now no more-
When Albion's crown illuftrious Arthur wore,
In fome fair op'ning glade, each fummer's night,
Where the pale Moon diffus'd her filver light,

On

On the foft carpet of a graffy field,
The Sporting Fairies their affemblies held:
Some lightly tripping with their pigmy queen,
In circling ringlets mark'd the level green;
Some with foft notes bade mellow pipes refound,
And mufick warble through the groves around.
Oft lonely fhepherds by the foreft fide,
Belated peasants oft their revels spy'd ;

And, home returning, o'er the nut-brown ale
Their guests diverted with the wond'rous tale.
Inftructed hence, throughout the British isle,
And fond to imitate the pleafing toil,

Round where the trembling May-pole's fix'd on high,
And bears it's flow'ry honours to the fky,

The ruddy maids and fun-burnt swains resort,
And practise ev'ry night the lovely sport:
On ev'ry fide Æolian artists ftand,

Whofe active elbows fwelling winds command;
The fwelling winds harmonious pipes inspire,
And blow in ev'ry breast a gen'rous fire.

Thus taught, at firft the country-dance began,
And hence to cities and to courts it ran;
Succeeding ages did in time impart
Various improvements to the lovely art:
From fields and groves to palaces remov'd,
Great ones the pleasing exercise approv❜d.
Hence the loud fiddle, and fhrill trumpet's founds,
Are made companions of the dancer's bounds;
Hence gems and filks, brocades and ribbands, join,
To make the ball with perfect luftre fhine.

So rude, at first, the tragick Mufe appear'd,
Her voice alone by ruftick rabble heard ;
Where twisting trees a cooling arbour made,

The pleas'd fpectators fat beneath the fhade;

The homely ftage with rufhes green was ftrew'd,
And in a cart the strolling actors rode:

Till

Till time, at length, improv'd the great defign,
And bade the scenes with painted landfcapes fhine;
Then art did all the bright machines difpofe,
And theatres of Parian marble rofe;

Then mimick thunder fhook the canvas fky,
And gods defcended from their tow'rs on high.
With caution now let ev'ry youth prepare,

To chufe a partner from the mingled fair.

Vain would he hear th' inftructed Mufe's voice,
If the pretended to direct his choice.

Beauty alone by fancy is exprefs'd,

And charms, in diff'rent forms, each diff'rent breast:
A fnowy skin this am'rous youth admires,
Whilft nut-brown cheeks another bosom fires;
Small waifts and flender limbs fome hearts enfnare,
While others love the more fubftantial fair.

But let not outward charms your judgments fway;
Your reafon, rather than your eyes, obey:
And in the dance, as in the marriage noose,
Rather for merit than for beauty chufe.

Be her your choice, who knows with perfect skill
When she should move, and when she should be still;
Who, uninftructed, can perform her share,
And kindly half the pleasing burden bear.
Unhappy is that hopeless wretch's fate,
Who, fetter'd in the matrimonial ftate
With a poor, fimple, unexperienc'd wife,
Is forc'd to lead the tedious dance of life:
And fuch is his, with fuch a partner join'd;
A moving puppet, but without a mind.
Still muft his hand be pointing out the way,
Yet ne'er can teach so fast as she can stray;
Beneath her follies he muft ever groan,
And ever blush for errors not his own.

But now behold, united hand in hand,
Rang'd on each fide, the well-pair'd couples ftand!

Each