But with regard to the lately introduced German waltz, I cannot speak so favorably; I must agree with Goethé, when writing of the national dance of his country, “that none but husbands and wives can with any propriety be partners in the waltz.” There is something in the close approximation of persons, in the attitudes, and in the motion, which ill agrees with the delicacy of woman, should she be placed in such a situation with any other man than the most intimate connexion she can have in life. Indeed, I have often heard men, of no very over-strained feeling, say, “that there are very few women in the world with whom they could bear to dance the German waltz.” The fandango, though graceful in its own country--because danced, from custom, with as reserved a mind as our maidens would make a courtsy,--is, nevertheless, when attempted here, too great a display of the person for any modest Englishwoman to venture. It is a solo! Imagine what must be the assurance of the young woman, who, unaccustomed by the habits of her country to such singular exhibitions of herself, could get up in a room full of company, and, with an unblushing face, go through all the evolutions, postures, and vaultings, of the Spanish fandango? Certainly, there are few discreet men in England who would say, “such a woman I should like for my wife!” The castanets, which are used in this dance, by attracting extraordinary attention, afford another argument against its being adopted anywhere but on the stage. The tambourin, the cymbals, and all other noisy accompaniments, in the hands of a lady-dancer, are equally blameable; and though a woman may, by their means, exhibit her agility and person to advantage, she may depend on it, that while the artist only is admired, the woman will sink into contempt; and that, though she may possibly meet with lovers to throw a score of embroidered handkerchiefs at her feet, she will hardly encounter one of a thousand who will venture to trust himself to the offering her the bond of a single gold ring. The bullero, another of our Spanish importations, is a dance of so questionable a description, that I cannot but proscribe it also. It may be performed with perfect modesty; but the sentiment of it depends so entirely on the disposition of the dancer, that Delicacy dare hardly venture to enrol herself in its lists, lest the partner chosen for her might be of a temper to turn its gaiety into licentiousness; to produce blushes of shame where she promised herself the glow of pleasure, and send her away from what ought to have been an innocent amusement, filled with the bitterness of insulted delicacy.