its close, the ballet-master, with his niece, was standing wrapped up in a great coat waiting for his carriage when, in obedience to the demands of the audience, two of the dancers rushed upon him, and led him forward to receive the applauses which were lavished upon him. The old man was reluctant to appear in such a dress, and at such disadvantage, but there was no resisting;-bending, rather than bowing to the delighted spectators, he came before the house, and while the female dancers fantastically twined their wreaths of flowers round him, the principal (Cupid) crowned him with a chaplet, amidst thunders of applause. The person from whom we had this relation, was his niece, who beheld the scene of her relation's triumph with a sensibility not to be expressed; to Noverre himself it was as overpowering as unexpected, and he always spoke of it as the most melting, yet the most triumphant feeling of his life. Such demonstrations of public approbation were then rare; we do not know, indeed, whether this was not the very first in England. Now they are robbed of much of their value by frequency. 66 At this time (from 1780 to 1790), when these fine productions were at their acme, it was customary to engage a ballet-master for the season, who was to compose two grand ballets and two of an inferior order, called divertissements; the expense of each of the former was estimated roundly at 1000/.*, and the whole strength of the house, scene-painters, band, decorator, dresser, and property-man, was placed at the command of the ballet-master. Hence the call for the various knowledge assumed to be necessary to the composer of such beautiful concentrations of these various arts. Noverre, we know, superintended them all down to the pattern of a suit, and the effect corresponded to the attention given to the preparations. Dr. Burney says, that in 1780 dancing had superseded music, painting, and machinery at the Opera. "After the departure of Mademoiselle Heinel," he continues, no dancing had so much delighted the frequenters of the Opera as that of M. Vestris and Mademoiselle Baccelli, till the arrival of M. Vestris l'aîné, when pleasure was sublimed into ecstacy. In the year 1781 Pacchierotti had been heard so frequently that his singing was no impediment to conversation, or even to animated narrative and debate; but while the elder Vestris was on the stage, if during a pas seul any of his admirers forgot themselves so much as to applaud him with their hands, there was an instant check put to his rapture by a choral hu-sh! For those lovers of music who talked the loudest when Pacchierotti was singing a pathetic air, or making an exquisite close, were now thrown into agonies of displeasure lest the graceful movements du dieu de la danse, or the attention of his votaries, should be disturbed by audible approbation. Since that time the most mute and respectful attention has been given to the manly grace of Le Picq, and light fantastic toe of the younger Vestris; to the Rossis, the Theodores, the Coulons, and the Hilligsbergs; while the poor singers have been disturbed, not by the violence of applause, but the clamour of inattention." There was scarcely, however, a single and true grand ballet given after the engagement of Noverre ended. Dauberval and Gallet, his The engagements for the season of 1793 or 1794, without the figurantes, have been computed at 85501. The sums which have been lost by the Opera-house are large almost beyond credibility. pupils-Didelot and Des Hayes, with many others, gave ballets, but they rarely, if at all, ascended beyond the level of the divertissement. They degenerated to such things as "Little Peggy's love," and the train of mythological dances which have since been accepted for the heroic tomime, and now occupies the stage almost to its entire exclusion. pan Thus the reign of these noble specimens of poetry and imagination was of short duration. They had waned even before the death of Noverre, who lived long enough to perceive and to denounce the coming change; nor can we conclude our slight sketch by a more just explication, than that in which he has closed one section of his work. He says, "I have avoided, as much as possible, all criticism; yet not wishing to give a senseless panegyric on the absurdities adopted by fashion and false taste, I may be allowed to set myself against all those abuses which are intruding upon dancing, to the destruction of all its graces; banishing the rules of proportion and fine taste, and replacing everything that can lend a charm to the art, by an ennuyant monotony of bad attitudes, disproportioned times, and unnatural pauses. When I can be persuaded that the Graces and the Nymphs ought to dance like Bacchanals, the Sports and the Smiles to move like Fauns and Sylvanswhen they can prove to me that angles, whether right, salient, or acute, can make the beauty of the imitative arts-when painters, whose opinion and talents I respect, shall demonstrate to me that they must renounce the curved lines and wise proportions that nature has traced for them-when they can convince me that, in the imitative arts, all ought to be stiff and formal-that it is a beautiful sight to see sixty arms well raised above their heads, and thirty right legs, carried by a spontaneous movement to a level with the shoulders, I will be silent. . . . . I have already said, and I here repeat, that there exists an intimate analogy between painting and dancing; plan, distribution, grouping, repose, gesture, attitude, expression, correct design, right proportions, historical and fabulous subjects, all these belong equally to painting and dancing. It belongs, then, to my coadjutor Gardel to keep off these abuses, and to declare open war against all the novelties born of caprice and folly. Being the absolute head of the most brilliant portion of the Opera, he ought to oppose himself with firmness all the innovations introduced by stupidity and ignorance. If the Colifichets and the Guinguins are the children of folly and caprice, the Graces are the daughters of taste and decency; it belongs then to M. Gardel to proscribe all that can impoverish and lower his noble compositions. He cannot forget that the principles of the fine arts are immutable, and that they are not the slaves of fashion, and the ephemeral fancies of caprice. Having only Nature to imitate and adorn, we ought to remain faithful to this our common mother. Woe to those ungrateful children who forsake her! What do they produce? Frightful caricatures, puppets, exaggerated and monstrous works, insipid and disgusting productions, rejected by an enlightened public, and the shame and contempt of those who gave them birth." It shaketh without wind It parteth from the tide It standeth upright in the cleft moonlight- Margret, Margret! Look in its face, ladye, And keep thee from thy swound; With a spirit bold thy pulses hold, And hear its voice's sound. When thy face is to the wall! "Am I not like to thee?" The voice was calm and low; And between each word you might have heard The silent grasses grow! "The like may sway the like," By which mysterious law, Mine eyes from thine, and my lips from thine, The light and breath may draw. Margret, Margret ! My lips do need thy breath My lips do need thy smile And my pale deep eyne, that light in thine, Yet go with light and life, If that thou lovest one In all the earth, who loveth thee Margret, Margret! Her cheek had waxen white, Like cloud, at fall of snow: Here like to one, at set of sun, It waxed red also. For love's name maketh bold, As if the loved were near, Margret, Margret! "Now, sooth, I fear thee not Shall never fear thee now." (And a noble sight, was the sudden light Which lit her lifted brow). "Can earth be dry of streams, Or hearts of love?"-she said; "Who doubteth love-knoweth not loveAlready is he dead! Margret, Margret! "I have"-and then her lips Some word in pause did keep; And gave, the while, a quiet smile, As if she smiled in sleep |