horse-like-galloping is at all necessary to gain for them all the esteem, regard, and devoted love which they can possibly deem essential to their happiness in the present life. Thoughtless as too many of our young men are, and desirous as they may often be to choose waltzing and gallopading young ladies for _partners in a dance_, most rarely do they yet commit the egregious folly of seeking them as _partners for life_. However giddy, rash, and improvident some of them may be in other respects, they are too well aware that a fondness for these indecorous displays of the person--these ridiculous, antic gambols, will do any thing rather than fit their practitioners for the various, complicated, and arduous duties of the married state--through _not one of which_ can either a waltz or a gallopade carry them with the least credit to themselves or benefit to their families. Better--far better would it be for these daughters to live and die utterly ignorant of what dancing is, than to be qualified to participate in its pleasures, at the hazard of soiling, in the slightest degree, that spotless purity of feelings and character, which _we men_ rank (and long, very long may we have a right to do so,) as the richest, the most precious by far of all our moral possessions. Deprive us of these, and we shall be poor--miserably poor indeed! Rather let our beloved girls be subject forever to the ridicule and contempt of all the infatuated votaries of these modern and foreign[1] corruptions, both of our manners and principles, than to be longer exposed to their deeply pernicious influence. [Footnote 1: That your readers may know what our English friends think of waltzing and gallopading, I take the liberty to add the following extract from an article in the New Monthly Magazine, "on the Revolutions of the 19th century." Here it is-- "Look at our balls: In 1800, modest woman danced modestly; and let the conversation which passed between two partners, standing as far distant from each other as people ordinarily do in a drawing room, be what it might, it could do no harm in the way of example. Within this century it has become the fashion for a delicate girl, who would, as Fielding's 'Huncamunca' says--'shudder at the gross idea' of man's advance, to permit herself, and be permitted by her mother--aye, or her husband, to flourish about a room to a wriggling German air, with a strange man's arm round her waist, and her delicate hand upon his brawny shoulder. This thing is called--_a waltz_: there is another of the same character, called--_a gallopade_, where the same operations are performed, and in which, instead of turning the woman about until she gets giddy, the fellow makes no more ado, but claps her up in his paws, and hurries right on end from one corner of the room to another."