-DAN 
sntific, or of mufic compofed not to be fung by the voice, 
but to be played upon inftruments, and both their wind 
and their ftringed inftruments feem to have ferved only 
as an accompaniment and direttion to the voice. 
In the country it frequently happens that a company 
of young people take a fancy to dance, though they 
have neither fiddler nor piper to dance to. A lady un¬ 
dertakes to ling while the reft of the company dance : 
in molt cafes fhe fings the notes only, without the words, 
and then the voice being little more than a mufical in- 
ftrument, the dance is performed in the ufual way, with¬ 
out any imitation. But if fhe fings the words, and if in 
thofe words there happens to be fomewhat more than 
ordinary fpirit and humour, immediately all the com¬ 
pany, efpecially all the beft dancers, and all thofe who 
dance rnoft at their eafe, become more or lefs panto¬ 
mimes, and by their geftures and motions expref's, as 
well as they can, the meaning and ftory of the fong. 
This would be ftill more the cafe, if the fame perfon 
both danced and fung; a pradtice very common among 
the ancients : it requires good lungs and a vigorous con- 
ffitution; but with thefe advantages and long pradtice, 
the very higheft dances may be performed in this man¬ 
ner. “ I have feen (fays Dr. Smith) a negro dance to 
liis own fong, the war-dance of his own country, with 
fuch vehemence of adtion and exprefiion, that the whole 
company, gentlemen as well as ladies, got up upon 
chairs and tables, to be as much as poftible out of the 
way of his fury.” It is not, however, every fort of ftep, 
gefture, or motion, of which the correfpondence with 
the tune or meafure of mufic will conftitute a dance. 
It muft be a ftep, gefture, or motion, of a particular 
fort. In a good opera-adtor, not only the modulations 
and paufes of his voice, but every motion and gefture, 
every variation, either in the air of his head or in the 
attitude of his body, correfpond to the time and mea¬ 
fure of mufic. The beft opera-adtor, however, is not, 
according to the language of any country in Europe, un- 
derftood to dance, yet, in the performance of his part, 
he generally makes ufe of what is called the ftage ftep ; 
but even this ftep is not underftood to be a dancing ftep. 
Though the eye of the molt ordinary fpedtator 
readily diftinguilhes between what is called a dancing 
ftep and any other ftep, gefture, or motion, yet it may 
not, perhaps, be very eafy to exprefs what it is which 
conftitutes this diftindtion. To afcertain exadtly the pre- 
cife limits at which the one fpecies begins, and the other 
ends, or to give an accurate definition of this very frivo¬ 
lous matter, might, peihaps, require more thought and 
attention, than the very fmall importance of the lubjedt 
may feem to deferve. In performing any ordinary ac¬ 
tion, in walking, for example, from the one end of the 
room to the other, a perfon may Ihew both grace and 
agility ; yet if he betrays the leaft intention of (hewing 
either, he is fure of offending more or lefs) and we never 
fail to accufe him of fome degree of vanity and affedta- 
tion. In the performance of any fuch ordinary adtion, 
every perfon wifhes to appear to be folely occupied 
about the proper purpofe of the adtion: if he means to 
ftiew either grace or agility, he is careful to conceal that 
meaning, and he is very feldom fuccefsful in doing fo : 
he offends, however, juft in proportion as he betrays it, 
and he almoft always betrays it. In dancing, on the 
contrary, every perfon profeffes, and avows, as it were, 
the intention of difplaying fome degree either of grace, 
or of agility, or of both. The difplay of one, or other, 
or both, of thefe qualities, is, in reality, the proper pur- 
pole of the adtion ; and there can never be any difagree- 
able vanity or affedtation in following out the proper 
purpofe of any adtion. When we fay of any particular 
perfon, that he gives himfelf many affedted airs and 
graces in dancing, we mean either that lie gives himfelf 
airs and graces which are unfuitable to the nature of the 
dance, or that he executes aukwardly, perhaps exagge¬ 
rates too much, (the moft common fault in dancing,) 
c E. 583 
the airs and graces which are fuitable to it. Every dance 
is, in reality, a fucceflion of airs and graces of fome kind 
or other, and ot airs and graces which profefs themlelves 
to be fuch. The (teps, geftures, and motions, which, as 
it were, avow tlie intention of exhibiting a fucceflion of 
Inch airs and graces, are the fteps, geftures, and motions, 
which are peculiar to dancing ; and, when thefe are well 
performed to the time and meafure of mufic, they ele- 
gantly conftitute what is properly called a dance. 
But though every fort ot ftep, gefture, or motion, even 
though performed to the time and meafure of mufic, 
will not alone make a dance, yet almoft any fort of found, 
provided it is repeated with a diftimft rhythmus, or ac¬ 
cording to a diftinft time and meafure, though without 
any variation as to gravity or acutenefs, will make a fort 
of mufic, no doubt, indeed, an imperfect one. Drums, 
military cymbals, and all other inftruments of percuflion, 
have only one note ; this note, however, when repeated 
with a certain rythmus, or according to a certain time 
and meafure, and fometimes, in order to mark more dif- 
tindtly that time and meafure, with fome little variation 
as to loudnefs and lownefs, though without any as to 
acutenefs and gravity, does certainly make a fort of mu¬ 
fic, which is frequently far from being difagreeable, and 
which even fometimes produces confiderable etfedts. 
The fimple note of fuch inftruments, it is true, is gene¬ 
rally a very clear, or what is called a melodious, found. 
It does not, however, feem indifpenfably neceffary that 
it Ihould be fo. The found of the muffled drum, when 
it beats the dead march, is far from being either clear 
or melodious, and yet it certainly produces a fpecies of 
mufic, which is affecting. Even in the performance of 
the moft humble of all artifts, of the man who drums 
upon the table with his fingers, we may fometimes dif- 
tinguilh the meafure, and, perhaps, a little of the hu¬ 
mour, of fome favourite fong; and we muft allow' that 
even he makes fome lort of mufic. Without a proper 
ftep and motion, the oblervation of tune- alone will not 
make a dance ; time alone, without tune, will make fome 
fort of mufic. 
There is no account of the origin of the practice of 
dancing among mankind; notwithftanding it is found to 
exilt among all nations whatever, be their exiftence ever 
fo remote. Mr. Gallini informs us, that “The fpirit of 
dancing prevails almoft beyond imagination among the 
Indians of every favage nation. In Mexico they have 
their dances and nrulic in the moft uncouth and barbarous 
ftyle. They love every thing that makes a noife, how 
difagreeable foever the found is. They wili alfo hum 
over fomething like a tune when they dance thirty or 
forty in a circle, ftretching out their hands, and laying 
them on each others (houlders. They (lamp and jump, 
and ufe the moft antic geftures for feveral hours, till they 
are heartily weary. And one or tw'o of the company 
fometimes ftep out of the rings to make fport for the 
reft, by (bowing feats of activity, throwing their lances 
up into the air, catching them again, bending backwards, 
and fpringing forwards with great agility.” 
The origin of dancing among the Greeks was moft cer¬ 
tainly the fame as among all other nations; but as they 
proceeded in civilization, their dances were of confe- 
quence more regular and agreeable than thofe of the 
more barbarous nations. They reduced dancing into a 
regular fyftem; and had dances proper for exciting, by 
means of the lympathy above mentioned, any paflion 
whatever in the minds of the beholders. At Athens, it 
is faid, that the dance of the Eumenides or Furies on the 
theatre had lo expreilive a character as to ftrike the lpec- 
tators with irreiiltible terror : men grown old in the pro- 
feflion of arms trembled ; the multitude ran out; women 
with child mifcarried ; people imagined they faw in ear¬ 
ned thofe terrible deities commiilioned with the ven¬ 
geance of heaven to purine and punilh crimes upon earth, 
Plato reduces the dances of the ancients to three dalles, 
i. The military dances, which tended to make the body 
■* robuiu 
