Star.
London, England, 1826-11-07 00:00:00

QUADRILLE DANCING.

PROM THE LITERARY CHRONICLE.
" Nil dbl mecum
Commune est."
hate quadrilles I-What, hate the elegant Pastorale—
the neat La Poole—the gay Locloiska! Peace, Madam ;
cease from repeating that bead-roll of foreign monsters;
I hate them all I They are complicated pieces of me-
ohanism, which require study and practice; and must
a man of five-and,thirty go and put himself under the
care of a dancing master, to be a second time initiated
in all the mysteries of first position, and one, two, three,
four? Yet he must do either that, or forswear dancing.
It is a hard case. Now, Sir, I am very fond of dancing;
but I learnt before Roger de Coverly and Chatsworth
House were assaulted by Weippart and Hart—before
the importation of French quadrilles, French foolery,
and French silks; I learnt when dancing was dancing—
'not a little angular shuffle, like a knight over a chess-
board. 0 how different was the ancient regime
.of dancing 1 There you stoucl the, envied leader
'of thirty couple; on your partner's decision rested
the momentous question of " What figurer and
bow prondly you communicated to the few around
you the important intelligence " Hands across, back
again, &win the middle, up again, and pousstute I"
Then the endeavour to appear demi,. while the two
fiddles scraped over the tune, when you knew that every
eye was upon you, and your bosom throbbed with
anz;ety! but as you became inspired, your heart beat
fuller, your capers were higher, and you redoubled the
*int! -looks you bestowed upon your blushing partner,
who gave you a hand as warm as her heart! Then,
when came the final scrape, whet pursuit for a chair !
and then a glass of warm negus was almost as much a
desideratum as the longitude is now. Men, fanning
was no sinecure; the ample green orb was spread....

Like the moon
Through optic gists by Tuscan attht Oiled ;"

said the assiduous bean, while industriously wafting the
cool breetes on Ms sweetheart's brow, often concealed
beneath its disk the near approaches he Made towards
her cheek. Oh, happy days! But ye Are gene! and
sickly and heartless Quadrille rules it now in the throne
of country dance, while crowds of parasites, as heart-
less as herself, follow her over her chalked floors and
per fumed halls.
A short time ago, Sir, I received an " at,horne" from
a very particular friend, with that ugly little word.
which I have made the subject of this essay, stuck in the
corner, like a naughty little child, cpiite ashamed of
hims:lf. What was to be done! I was told I could not
refuse, so go I must, and my sister kindly volunteered
to chew me the mysteries of these saltatorial intricacies.
After a week's hard practice, I thought I might ven-
ture, althouglr 1 had many misgivings about Pastorale;
the others I thought might shuffle off behind some pro.
tecting flounce. but a pas-seul I 4. Infandum jisbes reno-
vate dolorem !" The fatal evening came—powdered
and silk hosed footmen stood, like vocal telegraphs, to
pass our names up, and I heard, w'th feelings similar
to those of a wretch called out of the condemned cells
to be executed, " Mr. and Miss Longfoot" announced.
We walked in, made our respects, and I sat down, (to
use Sir J. Sylvester's words,) .4 to employ the short time
vrhich was left me, in preparing myself for my ap
proaching execution." Had this been " a country d trice
party," like those of yore, I should only have bad to
have found some lively partner, and been happy ; but
here, all looked cold as the soup at a Lord player's
dinner. The sperms were transparently freezing. and
the Ladies winked, or rather stalked about, like so
many Junos.
Men were bowing and displaying white teeth and
'kerchiefs, and talked indifferently of the ties of affec-
hen and of their neckcloths. There was no laugh, no
merry greeting, no quaint joke from the host, no kind
inquiries fur absent friends from the hostess. We looked
like quakers, waiting for the spirit, who came at length
in the shape of Mr. Hart, and whilst he was employed in
bringing the fiddles to a proper state of mind and tone
of feeling for the solemnity of the occashn, I saw, with
feelings of inde.cribable horror, our hostess advancing,
Of course to have the pleasure of introducing me to a
partner. "Very sort y, Madam—sprained ancle—dis-
totted hip—lame this, month past;' I muttered out,
while a faint sickness came over me; but to no purpose.
4' Dancing is the best thing in the world for sprains,"
and several other equally true apophthegms were pour-
ed out by my kind partner-finder, and I was dragged
up to be presented—l bowed, tried to say something
polite, but, alas

" Voz faucibus hash ;*

and, at length, endeavouiing to hide my real feelings
tinder an appearance of indifference, took my place at
the side of the first set.

How eagerly did I watch the top couples in the in-
tricacies of right and left, chaise de dames, &c. in order
to refresh my own memory,---and at last it came to my
turn. The wretch at the gallows foot could not feel
more uncomfortable than I did; I blundered-1 put the
(Om s out—l drew out my white cambric for no other
eat thly put pcse than to put it back again—l endea.
vt'ured to put on a bold laugh, but it was a diabolical
cachiaation that made me look a very fool.
I saw there was a sneer on the faces of the whole
set; I could have dashed the teeth out of the ridicu-
lous puppies jaws, and been rude to the Ladies. Then
came that hideous Pastorale. There I stood alone;
my legs looking like number eleven on a street door;
my face not at all unlike one of those long, oval, 1 on-
headed knockers, with a very similar grin. There I
stood, alone, I say, with two long feet, like a spondee
at the end of an hexameter, whilst two women, with a
smirking cavalier between them, advanced and retired,
as the dancing masters say, grinning all the time, and
seeming to enjoy my misery. Thea it was my turn to

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advance,' while those three :ton) 10- king at me with tre

most perfect assurance, now staring in my face, now
gaz;ng en my feet, till I wished, with old John 13unyan,.
(I believe,) that the earth were an hungry, and would
swallow me up 1 How did I rejoice when I bowed, my
sense of the honour done me, and prepared to lead my
partner to her seat. But judge of my horror when she
exclaimed, 66 we had better keep our places for the
lancers 1" I could not have felt half so much, had I
been ordered to keep my place before a whole regi.
ment of them at full charge. It was intolerable ; I limped
about—put my hand on my hip—swore I was lame
for life—and mentally ejaculated, Weyer I dance a
quad' ille again, may Ibe dashed. This would not
have happened in a country dance.