and indiscriminate denunciation grew out of the utter
dissoluteness of those ancient plays. So great at one time was the
offence to all decency, that the Roman Senate decreed the expulsion of
all dancers and dancing-masters from Rome.

Yet we are not to discuss the customs of that day, but the customs of
the present. We cannot let the fathers decide the question for us.
Our reason, enlightened by the Bible, shall be the standard. I am not
ready to excommunicate all those who lift their feet beyond a certain
height. I would not visit our youth with a rigor of criticism that
would put out all their ardor of soul. I do not believe that all the
inhabitants of Wales, who used to step to the sound of the rustic
pibcorn, went down to ruin. I would give to all of our youth the right
to romp and play. God meant it, or he would not have surcharged
our natures with such exuberance. If a mother join hands with her
children, and while the eldest strikes the keys, fill all the house
with the sound of agile feet, I see no harm. If a few friends,
gathered in happy circle, conclude to cross and recross the room to
the sound of the piano well played, I see no harm. I for a long while
tried to see in it a harm, but I never could, and I probably never
will. I would to God men kept young for a greater length of time.
Never since my school-boy days have I loved so well as now the
hilarities of life. What if we have felt heavy burdens, and suffered a
multitude of hard knocks, is it any reason why we should stand in the
path of those who, unstung by life's misfortunes, are exhilarated and
full of glee?

God bless the young! They will have to live many a day if they want to
hear me say one word to dampen their ardor or clip their wings, or
to throw a cloud upon their life by telling them that it is hard,
and dark, and doleful. It is no such thing. You will meet with many a
trial; but, speaking from my own experience, let me tell you that you
will be treated a great deal better than you deserve.

Let us not grudge to the young their joy. As we go further on in life,
let us go with the remembrance that we have had our gleeful days. When
old age frosts our locks, and stiffens our limbs, let us not block up
the way, but say, "We had our good times: now let others have theirs."
As our children come on, let us cheerfully give them our places. How
glad will I be to let them have everything,--my house, my books, my
place in society, my heritage! By