dances became fo too. The ancients feem to have had little or nothing of what is properly called inftrumental Music, or of Music 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 direction 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 undertakes to fing while the rest of the company dance: in moft cafes fhe fings the notes only, without the words, and then the voice being little more than a musical inftrument, the dance is performed in the usual way, without any imitation. But if the fings the words, and if in thofe words there happens to be fomewhat more than ordinary spirit and humour, immediately all the company, especially all the beft dancers, and all those who dance moft at their ease, become more or lefs pantomimes, and by their gestures and motions exprefs, as well as they can, the meaning and story of the fong. This would be ftill more the cafe, if the fame perfon both danced and fung; a practice very common among the ancients: it requires good lungs and a vigorous conftitution; but with these advantages and long practice, the very highest dances may be performed in this manner. I have seen a Negro dance to his own fong, the war-dance of his own country, with fuch vehemence of action and expreffion, that the whole company, gentlemen as well as ladies, got up upon chairs and tables, to be as much as poffible out of the way of his fury. In the Greek language there are two verbs which both fignify to dance; each of which has its proper derivatives, fignifying a dance and a dancer. In the greater part of Greek authors, these two fets of words, like all others which are nearly fynonimous, are frequently confounded, and used promifcuously. According to the best critics, however, in strict propriety, one of these verbs signifies to dance and fing at the fame time, or to dance to one's own music. The other to dance without finging, or to dance to the music of other people. There is faid too to be a correspondent difference in the fignification of their respective derivatives. In the chorufes of the ancient Greek tragedies, confifting fometimes of more than fifty perfons, fome piped and fome fung, but all danced, and danced to their own mufic. [The following Obfervations were found among Mr. SMITH'S Manufcripts, without any intimation whether they were intended as part of this, or of a different Effay. As they appeared too valuable to be fuppreffed, the Editors have availed themselves of their connection with the passage referred to in p. 149. and have annexed them to this Effay.} Of the Affinity between Mufic, Dancing, and Poetry. IN the fecond part of this Eflay I have mentioned the connection between the two arts of Mufic and Dancing formed by the Rythmus, as the ancients termed it, or, as we call it, the tune or measure that equally regulates both. It is not, however, every fort of step, gefture, or motion, of which the correfpondence with the tune or measure of Mufic will conftitute a Dance. It must be a step, gefture, or motion of a párticular fort. In a good opera-actor, not only the modulations and 3 el beg son.. 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, corre fpond to the time and measure of Mufic. The best opera-actor, however, is not, according to the language of any country in Europe, understood 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 understood to be a dancing step. very Though the eye of the most ordinary spectator readily diftinguishes between what is called a dancing step and any other step, gefture, or motion, yet it may not perhaps be very easy to express what it is which conftitutes this diftinction. To afcertain exactly the precife limits at which the one fpecies begins, and the other ends, or to give an accurate definition of this frivolous matter, might perhaps require more thought and attention, than the very small importance of the subject may seem to deferve. Were I, however, to attempt to do this, I should obferve, that though in performing any ordinary action-in walking, for example-from the one end of the room to the other, a person may show both grace and agility, yet if he betrays the leaft intention of fhowing either, he is fure of offending more or lefs, and we never fail to accufe him of fome degree of vanity and affectation. In the performance of any fuch ordinary action, every person wishes to appear to be folely occupied about the proper purpofe of the action: if he means to show either grace or agility, he is careful to conceal that meaning, and he is very feldom fuccessful in doing fo: he offends, however, juft in proportion as he betrays it, and he almost 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 purpose of the action; and there can never be any disagreeable vanity or affectation in following out the proper proper purpofe of any action. When we say of any particular perfon, that he gives himself many affected airs and graces in Dancing, we mean either that he gives himself airs and graces which are unfuitable to the nature of the Dance, or that he executes aukwardly, perhaps exaggerates too much, (the most common fault in Dancing,) the airs and graces which are suitable to it. Every Dance is in reality a fucceffion of airs and graces of fome kind or other, and of airs and graces which, if I may fay fo, profefs themselves to be fuch. The steps, gestures, and motions which, as it were, avow the intention of exhibiting a fucceffion of fuch airs and graces, are the fteps, geftures, and motions which are peculiar to Dancing, and when these are performed to the time and measure of Mufic, they constitute what is properly called a Dance. But though every fort of step, gefture, or motion, even though performed to the time and measure of Mufic, will not alone make a Dance, yet almost any fort of found, provided it is repeated with a diftinct rythmus, or according to a diftinct time and measure, though without any variation as to gravity or acutenefs, will make a fort of Mufic, no doubt indeed, an imperfect one. Drums, cymbals, and, fo far as I have obferved, all other inftruments of percuffion, have only one note; this note, however, when repeated with a certain rythmus, or according to a certain time and measure, and fometimes, in order to mark more diftinctly that time and measure, with fome little variation as to loudnefs and lownefs, though without any as to acutenefs and gravity, does certainly make a fort of Mufic, which is frequently far from being disagreeable, and which even sometimes produces confiderable effects. The fimple note of fuch instruments, it is true, is generally a very clear, or what is called a melodious, found. It does not however feem indifpenfably neceffary that it fhould 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 sometimes affecting. Even in the performance of the most humble of all artists, of the man who drums upon the table with his fingers, we may sometimes diftinguish the measure, and perhaps a little of the humour, of fome favourite fong; and we must allow that even he makes fome fort of Mufic. Without a proper step and motion, the observation of tune alone will not make a Dance; time alone, without tune, will make fome fort of Mufic. That exact obfervation of tune, or of the proper intervals of gravity and acuteness, which conftitutes the great beauty of all perfect Mufic, conftitutes likewise its great difficulty. The time or measure of a fong are fimple matters, which even a coarse and unpractifed ear is capable of distinguishing and comprehending: but to distinguish and comprehend all the variations of the tune, and to conceive with precifion, the exact proportion of every note, is what the finest and most cultivated ear is frequently no more than capable of performing. In the finging of the common people we may generally remark a diftinct enough obfervation of time, but a very imperfect one of tune. To discover and to diftinguish with precifion the proper intervals of tune, muft have been a work of long experience and much observation. In the theoretical treatifes upon Mufic, what the authors have to fay upon time is commonly discussed in a fingle chapter of no great length or difficulty. The theory of tune fills commonly all the rest of the volume, and has long ago become both an extenfive and an abftruse science, which is often but imperfectly comprehended, even by intelligent artifts. In the firft rude efforts of uncivilized nations towards finging, the niceties of tuné could be but little attended to: I have, upon this account, been frequently difpofed to doubt of the great antiquity of those national fongs, which it is pretended have been delivered down from age to age by a fort of oral tradition, without having been ever noted, or distinctly recorded |