66

vainly endeavour to set up, is again and again cast down before their eyes; and if, in any case, success appears to attend their efforts, there is too great reason to fear that the awful sentence has passed. Ephraim is turned to his idols ;-let him alone !" Well has it been observed by an old writer, that "God shows his estimation of riches, by the sort of persons into whose hands he ordinarily throws them." Not indeed, that this rule is without exception. The words," how hardly shall a rich man enter into the kingdom of heaven," do not tell us that none shall enter. But they warn us, as plainly as words can do, that to heap up riches is to heap up obstructions, and that in this respect, as in all others, "the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God."

R. B.

ON THE USE OF DANCING.

"GOD saw every thing that he had made, and behold it was very good." When this conclusive sentence was pronounced, it included every mental and corporeal faculty with which the creature was endowed every sense, every feeling, every appetite and inclination of the animal nature, as well as every intellectual endowment of the mind, and the still higher capacities of the immortal spirit. And as no one of these faculties was wastefully given, all had, and must have had, a legitimate occupation: there must have been to every power a corresponding means of exercise and gratification; and these, like itself, were included in the sentence: "Behold it was very good." When I made this remark before, it led naturally to the question whether it is still the case? whether there is still no faculty in man that cannot find a sinless exercise or an innocent enjoyment: which cannot be restored to its original design to promote the glory of God and the happiness of man, and therefore must be relinquished? Admitting that the power of the Evil One is limited to the use and exercise of God's gifts, and cannot make evil the good gifts themselves; and admitting of course, that since he has no creative power, he cannot give a faculty to mind or a property to matter which it had not when it came very good" from the Almighty hand: man fallen is still so different a creature from man in innocence; life

66

in a corrupted world is so different a condition from the life of that pure paradise, there is no anomaly in supposing, apart from our experience of the fact, that some of those powers and properties may have become inapplicable to our condition, and be no longer capable of a safe and sinless exercise.

Whether man, in his first state of innocence and purity, could have any pleasure in dancing, is not worth inquiry: I suppose he might, and might have enjoyed it harmlessly. That there is something in it pleasurable to man's nature now, I think is manifest from the universality of the practice: every people, from the most refined to the most savage and brutal, have some sort of measured exercise, or studied movement of the body, which is denominated dancing. It is equally not worth inquiry in what the gratification consists: whether simply in the animation of the spirits and the exercise of the limbs; or whether in some satisfaction also to our perception of form, and time, and other combinations, which in music and painting we call harmony. Let it be admitted that there is some pleasure in dancing, apart from all from which it never yet was parted, —the adventitious excitements of time, and place, and company, in which it is performed: this I suppose will constitute dancing in the abstract;' and of all the abstractions I ever heard of, I confess it is the most beyond my apprehension. The forest maiden sings as she walks over the lonely heath; and the captive princess may pass her nights in song, for the pure love of music: but I doubt if turret tower or forest glade ever witnessed a pas seul for the pure love of dancing. If it should be so, however, I would not be understood to make the smallest doubt

·

of its propriety; which is conceding all that can be desired for the harmlessness of dancing in the abstract.

It will be thought I write very gravely for so gay a subject, and proceed but heavily to so light an end. But we must bring the question within a smaller compass still, before it can be practically considered. The question, the real practical question as it concerns the people of God, is not whether under any supposable circumstances, and in any state of society elsewhere existing, dancing is, or might be, a harmless recreation: we shall never learn our duties by generalities. It is simply this, whether in the position of a religious woman in society as now existing, she ever does, or can enjoy the recreation harmlessly. I do not hesitate to say she cannot. We may suppose a case, but it does not occur: we may imagine young people dancing at home for exercise, the useful interlude to graver occupations; the graceful expression of light-heartedness and mirth: but they never do so: even children will not do it unless it is enjoined on them: nature is too honest for our purpose: they feel that the pleasure of dancing needs subsidiaries, and is not to be enjoyed without them. They are quite right. Exercise in a heated room is not the demand of healthful nature; studied and artificial movements, gravely and carefully performed, are not the freedom that the young spirits require. If it is a task, very well: if it is a recreation, they know a walk or a game of play is better. But send for the company, light up the rooms, dress yourselves as becomes the occasion; now we shall see in every brightened eye, the use of dancing-the delight of dancing-now the night will not be long enough to exhaust the pleasure, and

doubtless we shall see next day the beneficial results of wholesome exercise and mental renovation!

How much talk a little honesty would save us! We know better. Every pious mother knows there is no opportunity for the enjoyment of dancing, as it is now practised, without an admixture of those pomps and vanities of the world which she has promised, on behalf of her children, to renounce, and for herself, has renounced in making a profession of godliness; without the risk of exciting those sinful thoughts and vain desires, the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the pride of life, which it is the work, the no easy work, of the Holy Spirit to subdue, and keep in subjection, to the holy will of God: without encountering the spirits of darkness, in a state of mind the most unfitted for resistance. I have heard such a mother say, 'It never did me any harm.' Alas! how lightly do we think of sin. Is the memory of wasted hours no harm? The pride, the vanity, the thoughtlessness and prayerlessness of our young days, are they no burthen on the repentant soul? Can the renewed spirit look back upon the times when God was forgotten, and Jesus was made to wait without, while the whole soul was absorbed in the pursuit of idols, engrossed with vanities and drunk with folly; and say they have done us no harm; because grace and mercy, outstaid our carelessness; and that gracious Saviour grew not weary of waiting for our leisure? I know not what to think when I hear pardoned sinners thus speaking of the debts which they indeed have never paid; but which have been paid, most dearly paid, where not a single sin lay harmless on the heart, that broke beneath the accumulated load; and if there was one wrong, that