sobrius saltat_, ‘no man in his senses will dance,’ said Cicero, a heathen; shame on those Christians who advocate a cause by which many _sons_ have become profligate, and many _daughters_ have been ruined.” Such was the experience of Adam Clarke in _dancing_, and such was his opinion of the practice.[1] [Footnote 1: It is old Fuller's observation, that “people over strait-laced in one part will hardly fail to grow awry in another.” Over against the observations of Adam Clarke may be set the following, from the life of that excellent man—Sir William Jones. “Nor was he so indifferent to slighter accomplishments as not to avail himself of the instructions of a celebrated dancing master at Aix-la-Chapelle. He had before taken lessons from Gallini in that trifling art.”—Carey's Lives of English Poets. Sir William Jones, p. 359.] An opinion not less unfavourable is expressed in homely old verse by the translator of the Ship of Fools, Alexander Barclay. Than it in the earth no game is more damnable; It seemeth no peace, but battle openly, They that it use of minds seem unstable, As mad folk running with clamour, shout and cry What place is void of this furious folly? None; so that I doubt within a while These fools the holy Church shall defile. Of people what sort or order may we find, Rich or poor, high or low of name But by their foolishness and wanton mind, Of each sort some are given unto the same. The priests and clerks to dance have no shame. The friar or monk, in his frock and cowl, Must dance in his dortour, leaping to play the fool. To it comes children, maids, and wives, And flattering young men to see to have their prey; The hand-in-hand great falsehood oft contrives. The old quean also this madness will assay; And the old dotard, though he scantly may For age and lameness stir either foot or hand, Yet playeth he the fool, with others in the band. Then leap they about as folk past their mind, With madness amazed running in compace; He most is commended that can most lewdness find, Or can most quickly run about the place, There are all manners used that lack grace, Moving their bodies in signs full of shame, Which doth their hearts to sin right sore inflame. Do away your dances, ye people much unwise! Desist your foolish pleasure of travayle! It is methinks an unwise use and guise To take such labour and pain without avayle. And who that suspecteth his maid or wives tayle, Let him not suffer them in the dance to be; For in that game though size or cinque them fayle The dice oft runneth upon the chance of three.