demonstrates its force as example, at least, if not as teacher of actual technique. The Hebrews of very early days gave dancing a high place in the ceremony of worship. Moses, after the crossing of the Red Sea, bade the children of Israel dance. David danced before the Ark of the Covenant.

Numerous Biblical allusions show that dancing was held in high respect among early leaders of thought. “Praise the Lord ... praise Him with timbrel and the dance,” is commanded. With dancing the Maccabees celebrated that supremely solemn event, the restoration of the Temple. To honour the slayer of Goliath, the women came out from all the cities of Israel, “singing and dancing ... with tabrets, with joy and with instruments of musick.” Relative to the capture of wives the sons of Benjamin were told: “ ... if the daughters of Shiloh come out to dance in dances, then come ye out of the vineyards, and catch you every man his wife ... and the children of Benjamin did so, and took them wives, according to their number, of them that danced, whom they caught” (Judges 21:21 and 23). “Thou shalt again be adorned with thy tabrets, and shalt go forth in the dances of them that make merry” (Jeremiah 31:4). “Then shall the virgin rejoice in the dance” (Jeremiah 31:13). “And David danced before the Lord with all his might” (2 Samuel 6:14). In the solemn chapter of Matthew narrating the beheading of John the Baptist we read: “But when Herod’s birthday was kept, the daughter of Herodias danced before them, and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath to give her whatever she would ask.”

Perhaps with an idea of forestalling discussion of the art’s antiquity, one of the early writers eliminates argument by a simple stroke of the pen. “The stars conform to laws of co-ordinated movement. ‘Co-ordinated movement’ is the definition of dancing, which therefore is older than humanity.” Taking this at its face value, human institutions are thrown together into one period, in which differences of a thousand years are as nothing.

In turning to Greece, years need lend no aid to make the subject attractive. In that little world of thought we find choreography luxuriant, perhaps, as it never has been since; protected by priesthood and state, practised by rich and poor, philosopher and buffoon. Great mimetic ballets memorialised great events; simple rustic dances celebrated the gathering of the crops and the coming of the flowers. Priestesses performed the sacred numbers, the origins of which tradition attributed to Olympian gods; eccentric comedy teams enlivened the streets of Athens; gilded youth held dancing an elegant accomplishment. Philosophers taught it to pupils for its effect on body and mind; it was a means of giving soldiers carriage, agility and health, and cultivating esprit de corps. To the development of dancing were turned the Greek ideals of beauty, which in their turn undoubtedly received a mighty and constant uplift from the beauty of harmonised movements of healthy bodies. Technique has evolved new things since the days of classic Greece; scenery, music and costume have created effects undreamed of in the early times. But notwithstanding the lack of incidental factors—and one questions if any such lack were not cancelled by the gain through simplicity—the wide-spread practice of good dancing, the greatness and frequency of municipal ballets, the variety of emotional and æsthetic motives that dancing was made to express, all combine to give Greece a rank never surpassed as a dancing nation.