Of a very different nature were the art and personality of Fanny Elssler, the pretty Viennese girl, who in many respects followed the example of Taglioni. Emerson, who saw her dancing in Boston, exclaimed, ‘that is poetry!’ But Margaret Fuller, who sat next to him, replied, ‘Ralph, it’s religion.’ Turgenieff was so impressed by her art that he wrote to Balzac: ‘Her dance is the most magic novel that I have ever read. What a mystery of beauty! Her every step and gesture is a line of unwritten verse. Her lines are accentuated phrases, her poses illustrations to the intoxicating text. Her art haunts me.’ Born in Vienna in 1810, Elssler received an early and thorough musical education from her father, who was a copyist to Haydn. Her ballet training, which she received partly in Vienna, partly in Italy, was of the old order. It was the _Cachucha_ that made her a favorite of the Milan and Naples audiences, but, as with Taglioni, it was _La Sylphide_ that made Elssler’s final reputation. Elssler saw _La Sylphide_ danced by Taglioni in Munich and it electrified her so that she made it a main aim of her ambition to surpass Taglioni, which she did. A girl of receptive mind, good education and great talent, Elssler took notice of all the critical views of her future rival, as expressed by her contemporary ballet-masters, composers and dance critics. This enabled her to embody in her art and style the features which were less developed and most disliked by Taglioni. Taglioni was said to be poetic, but lacking in romantic warmth and dramatic sentiment. In this latter quality Elssler excelled. She made a special study of those gestures, poses and steps, which express by passionate emotions, and made appropriate use of them. The mechanical features of the dance interested her little, though occasionally she indulged in acrobatic tricks. Chorley, the English critic, writes of her: ‘The exquisite management of her bust and arms set her apart from everyone whom I have ever seen before or since. Nothing in execution was too daring for her, nothing too pointed. If Mademoiselle Taglioni flew, she flashed. The one floated on the stage like a nymph, the other showered every sparkling fascination round her like a sorceress. There was more, however, of the Circe than of the Diana in her smile.’ [Illustration: Sylphides; a Typical Classic Ballet]