nel seemed to regard his elegant art as a species of tactics, a joyless yet bounden duty incumbent on all civilized humanity. But our young, elastic natures were able to clothe and beautify these bare bones. The mere circumstance of being together, timing our movements to sweet sounds, and practising that politeness which has affinity with higher virtues, made us happy.
Afterwards we had teachers of greater indulgence, and who better understood the poetry of motion. Yet our thorough elementary instruction was an evident advantage, and we looked back with the memory of respect to our severe old teacher. Every separate term closed with what was styled a dancing-school ball. Then we were joined by beaux and belles of more advanced age, and prolonged the festivity to a later hour. These were the only occasions on which the dance was continued beyond nine in the evening. The ringing of that curfew put us all to flight, like shot among a bevy of pigeons. Thus, one of the most serious objections against this amusement—its tendency to late hours—was removed. Another, founded on extravagance of dress, was also entirely obviated. I distinctly remember the simple and becoming costume which was deemed sufficient for our most ceremonious assemblages:-a plain white frock, broad blue sash usually passed over one shoulder, shoes of the same color, and hair without ornament, save its own abundant curls, falling richly on the neck. The principal consul-
