"We cannot do better than to quote on this subject from a little work entitled, “The Dance of Death,” the author of which has given a great amount of attention to this subject, and presents its evils in a very forcible light, as follows:- A score of forms whirl swiftly before us under the softened gaslight. I say score of “forms- but each is double-they would have made two score before the dancing began. Twenty floating visions-each male and female. Twenty women, knit and growing to as many men, undulate, sway, and swirl giddily before us, keeping time with the delirious melody of piano, harp, an violin. “But draw nearer-let us see how this miracle is accomplished. Do you mark yonder couple who seem to excel the rest in grace and ardor. Let us take this couple for a sample. He is stalwart, agile, mighty; she is tall, supple, lithe, and how beautiful in form and feature! Her head rests upon his shoulder, her face is upturned to his; her naked arm is almost around his neck; her swelling breast heave tumultuously against his; face to face they whirl, his limbs interwoven with her limbs; with strong right arm about her yielding waist, he presses her to him till every curve in the contour of her lovely body thrills with the amorous contact. Her eyes look into his, but she sees nothing; the soft music fills the room, but she hears nothing; swiftly he whirls her from the floor or bends her frail body to and from in his embrace. “With a last, low wail the music ceases. Her swooning senses come back to life. Ah, must it be! Yes; her companion releases her from his embrace. Leaning wearily upon his arm, the rapture faded from her eye, the flush dying from her cheek-enervated, limp, listless, worn out-she is led to a seat, there to recover from her delirium and gather her energies as best she may in the space of five minutes, after which she must yield her body to a new embrace.”"