IT seems strange that the Dance should have almost everywhere degenerated into something base and trivial, while its children, Music and Poetry, in spite of lapses, should have preserved their dignity and beauty. It seems even more strange when we remember that dancing had a religious origin. Among the Jews, as among other peoples, dancing was constantly associated with the ceremonies of faith.

In Christian churches the choir was originally designed as a place in which the chanting of hymns and canticles might be conveniently accompanied by rhythmic movements. On feast days the honor of leading the dance was reserved for the bishop. This is why he was known in those days by the name, of praesul, the is, he who dances first. A bishop as premier danseur! We can hardly believe it now, yet why should we not, seeing that the movements of priest and server at mass have the nature of a solemn dance? And there are places in France and Spain where liturgical dances still exist. The most notable is the dance executed before the altar at Seville in Holy Week. I am afraid that the one that used to take place in the choir of Saint Leonard's at Limoges, where, at the end of each psalm, the people sang instead of the Gloria Patri, "San Marceau, pray for us and we will dance for you," is now extinct.