We must look at its direct results. We must hold it responsible for the vice it encourages, the lasciviousness of which it so largely partakes. And in presenting this subject, I shall steadfastly ignore that line of argument based upon the assumption that because “it is general,” it must be proper. Says Rochester: —

 

“Custom docs often reason overrule,

And only serves for reason to the fool.”

 

And Crabbe: —

 

Habit with him was all the test of truth:

It must be right — I’ve done it from my youth.”

 

No, neither the use of tobacco, the indulgence in alcoholic beverages, nor the familiar posturing of the “Glide” can be justified or defended by proving that they are common to all classes of society.

I repeat that the scene I have attempted to describe in the foregoing chapter is no creation of a prurient imagination — would to God that it were — but is a scene that is enacted at every social entertainment which in these days is regarded by the class for whose benefit this work is written as worth the trouble of attending. I repeat that the female portion of the “class” referred to is not composed of what are commonly known as prostitutes, whatever the uninitiated spectator at their orgies may imagine, but of matrons who are held spotless, and of maidens who are counted pure — not only by the world in general, but by those husbands, fathers, and brothers, whose eyes should surely be the first to detect any taint upon the character of wife, daughter, or sister. And I repeat, moreover, that the social status of these people is not that of the rude peasant whose lewd pranks are the result of his ignorance, but that of the most highly cultivated and refined among us. These are the people who are expected to, and do, lead the world in all that is elegant and desirable; and the Waltz, forsooth, is one of their arts — one of the choice products of their ultra-civilization — brought to perfection by the grace with which God has gifted them above common folk, adorned by their wealth, and enjoyed by their high-strung sensibilities. The boor could not dance as they do though he were willing to give his immortal soul to possess the accomplishment, for the waltz, in its perfection, is a pleasure reserved for the social pantheon.

Said one to me, stooping forward in the most confidential way “Do you see that young lady to the left? How exquisitely the closely drawn silk discloses her wasp-like form! and those motions — could anything be more suggestive? Every movement of her body is a perfect reproduction of Hogarth’s line of beauty. Look man! Remove just a little drapery and there is nothing left to desire — isn’t it wonderful? But then,” added he, “it is a perfect outrage nevertheless.”

Not so, I answered. Can aught be said against her reputation? no! — a thousand times no — and as for her dress, is it not the perfection of what all others in the room are but a crude attempt to accomplish? Does it not disclose a form intrinsically beautiful, and admit of a grace and “poetry of motion” quite unknown to those encumbered with petticoats? Yes, look at her backward and forward movements — see how she entwines her lithe limbs with those of her enraptured partner as they oscillate, advance, recede, and rotate, as though they were “spitted on the same bodkin.”

“Thus front to front the partners move or stand, The foot may rest, but none withdraw the hand.

This, sir, is but one of the many improvements on the waltz.

And pray, sir, are not this lady to the right and that one in the center, vainly endeavoring to achieve the same feat? The only difference is that this lady is better dressed, more ably taught than either; is she to be censured because she has the talent and industry to do well, that which they have neither the courage, energy, nor ability to perform?

Can it be that in this instance alone, a want of proficiency is a redeeming feature?


CHAPTER III.

 

“Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lust of their own hearts, to dishonor their own bodies between themselves.”

EPISTLE TO THE ROMANS.

 

Already I see the face of the reader grow red with indignation. “This is a calumniator, an infamous detractor, an envious pessimist, a hater of all that is innocently enjoyable!” cries he or she. Very well — I bow my acknowledgements for the compliment I have already stated in my preface that I did not expect you to say anything else. I could be well content to tell what I know and let you say your say in peace, but I will nevertheless go somewhat out of my way to answer your principal objections.

In the first place, there are certainly many who will deny my charges in toto — who will declare that the waltz is very moral and healthful, and entirely innocent and harmless, and that he who puts it in any other light is a knave and a vile slanderer. These of my opponents I may divide into two classes: First, those who know nothing of the matter, who have never danced, have scarcely ever seen a modem waltz, and are consequently unwilling to believe that such terrible things could be going on in their very midst without their knowledge; and, secondly, those who do know and practice the abomination, and find “the fruit of the tree of knowledge” far too sweet to be hedged about as “forbidden.”

To the first of these classes I have little to say; it is composed mainly of “old fogies,” the diversions of whose youth were innocent, and who can see no evil that does not sprawl in all its ugliness over the face of the community. If a courtesan accosted one of them on the street, they would be unutterably shocked, and so they certainly would if they on a sudden found themselves experiencing the “perfect waltz,” though even then it is doubtful if they would not be shocked into dumbness and grieved into inaction. But of the vailed and subtle pleasures of the waltz they are profoundly ignorant — why should they not be? They see no harm in it because they don’t see it at all; they are optimists through ignorance, and lift palms of deprecation at the mention of vice which they cannot understand or attain to. To these I say: open your eyes and look about you, even at the risk of seeing things not exactly as you fancied them to be; or, if you will remain obstinately blind, then pray do not deny that evil exists where you do not happen to see it with your eyes shut I have painted the picture, you can compare it with the reality at your leisure.

To the second class that I have mentioned, namely, those who know and deny what they know, a far stronger condemnation is to be applied. It is composed of the dancers par excellence, both male and female — who have tasted of the unholy pleasures of the waltz until it has become the very sap of their lives. These are the blushing rakes and ogling prudes who will be most bitter in their denunciation of this book and its author; and no wonder — I only oppose the prejudices of the others, but I contend with the passions of these. These it is who are forever prating of the beauties and virtues of the waltz. It is an “innocent recreation,” a “healthful exercise,” it is the “mother of grace” and the “poetry of motion;” no eulogy can be too extravagant for them to bestow upon their idol. They see no harm in it, not they, and for those who dare hint at such a thing, they have ever ready at their tongue’s end that most convenient and abused of legends: Honi soit qui mal y pense. They will catch at any straw to defend their pet amusement. They will tell you that The Preacher says “there is a time to dance,” without stopping to inquire why that ancient cynic put the words “there is a time to mourn” in such close proximity. They will inform you that Plato, in his Commonwealth, will have dancing-schools to be maintained, “that young folks may meet, be acquainted, see one another, and be seen,” but they forget to mention that he will also have them dance naked, or to quote the comments of Eusebius and Theodoret upon Plato’s plan. They think the secret of their great respect for the waltz is possessed only by themselves, and hug the belief that by them that secret shall never be divulged. Bah! They must dance with the gas out if there is to be any secrecy in the matter Innocent and healthful recreation forsooth! The grotesque abominations of the old Phallic worship had, a basis of clean and wholesome truth, but as the obscene rites of that worship desecrated the principle that inspired them, so do the pranks of the “divine waltz” libel the impulse that stirs its wriggling devotees. The fire that riots in their veins and the motive that actuates their haunches is an honest flame and a decent energy when honestly and decently invoked, but if blood and muscle would be pleased to indulge their impotent raptures in private, the warmer virtues would not be subjected to open caricature, nor the colder to downright outrage What do I mean by such insinuations? Nay, then, gentle reader, I will not insinuate, but will boldly state that with the class with which I am now dealing — the dancers par excellence, the modem waltz is not merely “suggestive,” as its opponents have hitherto charitably styled it, but an open and shameless gratification of sexual desire and a cooler of burning lust To lookers-on it is “suggestive” enough, Heaven knows, but to the dancers — that is to say, to the “perfect dancers”; — it is an actual realization of a certain physical ecstacy which should at least, be indulged in private and no pure person should experience save under the sanction of matrimony.

And this is the secret to which I have alluded. It cannot even be claimed as private property any longer.

“For shame!” cries the horrified (and non-waltzing) reader; “how can you make such dreadfully false assertions! And who are these ‘perfect danders’ you talk so much about? And how came you to know their ‘secret’ as you term it? Surely no woman of even nominal decency would make such a horrible confession, and yet the most immaculate women waltz, and waltz divinely!”

By your leave, I will answer these questions one at a time. Who are these “perfect waltzers?” Of the male sex there are several types, of which I need only mention two.

The first is your lively and handsome young man — a Hercules in brawn and muscle — who exults in his strength and glories in his manhood. Dancing comes naturally to him, as does everything else that requires grace and skill.