The Chautauqua Girls At Home Part 25

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE RESULT.

"NOW, what I want," said Marion, "is to have you people who are posted answer a few questions. You know I am not a dancer; I have only stood aside and looked on; but I have as high a respect for common sense as any of you _can_ have, and I want to use some of it in this matter; so just tell me, is it true or not that there is a style of dancing that is considered improper in the extreme?"

"Why, yes, of course there is," Eurie said, quickly.

"Is it the style that is indulged in at our ordinary b.a.l.l.s, where all sorts of characters are admitted, where, in fact, anyone who can buy a ticket and dress well is welcome? You know you were particular to state that none of you went to b.a.l.l.s; are these some of the reasons?"

"_My_ princ.i.p.al reason is," Ruth said, with an upward curve of her haughty lip, "that I do not care to a.s.sociate with all sorts of people, either in the ball-room or anywhere else."

"Besides which, you are reasonably particular, who of your acquaintances have the privilege of frequently clasping your hand and placing an arm caressingly around your waist, to say nothing of almost carrying you through the room, are you not?"

Ruth turned toward the questioner flashing eyes, while she said:

"That is very unusual language to address to us, Marion. Possibly we are quite as high-toned in our feelings as yourself."

"Oh, but now, I appeal to your reason and common sense; you say, yourself, that these should be our guide. Isn't it true that you, as a dancer, allow familiarity that you would consider positively insulting under other circ.u.mstances? Am I mistaken in your opinion as to the proper treatment that ladies should receive from gentlemen at all other times save when they are dancing?"

"It's a solemn fact," said Eurie, laughing at the folly of her position, "that the man with whom I dance has a privilege that if he should undertake to a.s.sume at any other time would endanger his being knocked down if my brother Nell was within sight."

"And it is true that there are lengths to which dancers go that you would not permit under any circ.u.mstances?"

"Undeniable," Eurie said again. "Yet I don't see what that proves. There are lengths to which you can carry almost any amus.e.m.e.nt. The point is, we don't carry them to any such lengths."

"That isn't the whole point, Eurie. There are many amus.e.m.e.nts which no one carries to improper lengths. We do not hear of their being so perverted; but we do not hear of them in the ball-room. The question is, has dancing such a tendency? Do impure people have dance-houses which it is a shame for a person to enter? Are young men and young women, our brothers and sisters led astray in them? We mustn't be too delicate to speak on these things, for they exist; and they are found among people for whom the Lord died, and many of them will be reclaimed and be in heaven with us. They are our brethren; _can_ they be led away by the influences of the dance? If we are all really in earnest in this matter, will you each give your opinion on this one point?"

"I suppose it is unquestionable," Ruth said, "that dance-houses are in existence, and that they are patronized by the lowest and vilest of human beings; but the sort of dance indulged in has no more likeness to the dances of cultivated society than--"

"Than the drunkard lying in the gutter bears likeness to the elegant young man of fashion who takes his social sips from a silver goblet lined with gold at his mother's refreshment table," Marion said, interrupting her, and speaking with energy. "Yet you will admit that the one may be, and awfully often is, the stepping stone to the other."

"It is true," Eurie said; "both are true. I never thought of it before, but there is no denying it."

As for Flossy, she simply bowed her head, as one interested but not excited.

"Then may I bring in one of my verses, 'Pure religion and undefiled before G.o.d and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction, and to keep himself _unspotted_ from the world.'

Does that apply? If the world can carry this amus.e.m.e.nt to such depths of degradation, and if the elegant parlor dance is or _can_ be in the remotest degree the first step thereto, _are_ we keeping ourselves unspotted if we have anything to do with it, countenance it in any way?

Don't you see that the question, after all, is the same in many respects as the card-playing one? We have been over this ground before.

"Suppose we grant, for argument's sake, that not one of you is in danger of being led away to any sort of excess, and I should hardly dare to admit it in my own case, because of a verse in this same old book, 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall;' but if it _should_ be so, let me give you another of my selections--rather, let me read the entire argument."

Whereupon she turned to the tenth chapter of First Corinthians and read St. Paul's argument about eating meat offered to idols, pausing with special emphasis over the words, "_Conscience, I say, not thine own, but of the other._" "Did I understand you to say, Eurie, that it is a very general belief among dancers that Christians are inconsistent who indulge in this amus.e.m.e.nt."

"It is a provoking truth that there is. Don't you know, Ruth, how we used to be merry over the Symonds girls and that young Winters who were church-members? Well, they made rather greater pretensions with their religion than some others did, and that made us specially amused over them."

"Then, Eurie, wasn't their influence unfortunate on you?"

"I am not on your side, Mistress Wilbur. You should have more conscience than to keep me all the time condemning myself!"

"That is answer enough," Marion said, smiling. "I am only asking for information, you know. I never danced. But in the light of that confession, hear this: 'But if thy brother be grieved with thy meat, now walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him with thy meat for whom Christ died. Let not, _then, your good be evil spoken of_.' Isn't that precisely what you were doing of the good in those church-members, Eurie? Now a sophist would possibly say that the argument of Paul had reference to food offered to idols, and not to dancing; but I think here is a chance for us to exercise that judgment and common sense which we are so fond of talking about.

"The main point seems to be not to destroy those for whom Christ died.

Does it make any difference whether we do it with our digestive organs or with our feet? But what is the sophist going to do with this: 'It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak.' You see he may, or may not, be a fool for allowing himself to be led astray. St. Paul says nothing about that. He simply directs as to the Christian's duty in the matter."

Ruth made a movement of impatience.

"You are arguing, Marion, on the supposition that a great many people are led astray by dancing; whereas I don't believe that to be the case."

"Do you believe one soul ever was?"

"Why, yes, I suppose so."

"We even know one," Eurie said, speaking low, and looking very grave.

"Do you believe it is possible that another soul may in the next million years?"

"Of course it is possible."

"Then the question is, how much is one soul worth? I don't feel prepared to estimate it, do you?" To which question Ruth made no reply "There is another point," Marion said. "You young ladies talk about being careful with whom you dance. Don't you accept the attentions of strange young gentlemen, who have been introduced to you by your fashionable friends?

Take Mr. Townsend, the young man who came here a stranger, and was introduced in society by the Wagners, because they met him when abroad.

Didn't you dance with him, Eurie Mitch.e.l.l?"

"Dozens of times," said Eurie, promptly.

"And Flossy, didn't you?"

Flossy nodded her golden head.

"Well, now you know, I suppose, that he has proved to be a perfect libertine. Honestly, wouldn't you both feel better if he had never had his arm around you?"

"Marion, your way of saying that thing is simply disgusting!" Ruth said, in great heat.

"Is it my way of saying it, or is it the thing itself?" Marion asked, coolly. "I tell you, girls, it is impossible to know whether the man who dresses well, and calls on you at stated intervals, looking and talking like a gentleman, is not a very Satan, who will lead away the pretty guileless, unsuspecting young girl who is worth his trouble; and the leading often and often commences with a dance; and the young girl may never have been allowed to dance with him at all had not stately and entirely unexceptionable leaders of society, like our Ruth here, allowed it first.

"It is the same question after all, and it narrows down to a fine point.

A thing that can possibly lead one to eternal death, a Christian has no business to meddle with, even if he knows of but one soul in a million years who has been so wrecked. In all this we have not even glanced at the endless directions to 'redeem the time,' to be 'instant in season and out of season, to 'work while the day lasts,' 'to watch and be sober.' What do all these verses mean? Are we obeying them when we spend half the night in a whirl of wild pleasure?

"The fact remains that a majority of people are not temperate in their dancing; they do it night after night; they long after it, and are miserable if the weather, or the cough, keeps them away. I know dozens of such young ladies; I have them as my pupils; my heart trembles for them; they are just intoxicated with dancing; and they quote you, Ruth Erskine, as an example when I try to talk with them; I have heard them.

Whether it is wrong for other people or not, as true as I sit here I can tell you this: I have two girls in my cla.s.s who are killing themselves with this amus.e.m.e.nt, carried to its least damaging extreme, for they still think they are very careful with whom they dance; and you are in a measure, at least, responsible for their folly. You needn't say they are simpletons; I think they are, but what of it? 'Shall the _weak_ brother perish for whom Christ died?'"