Dancing—­the rhythmical movement of the limbs and body to music—­is, as I have endeavored to point out, instinctive, hardly a people, savage or refined, but has certain forms of it.  When, from any cause, the men abstain from its execution it has commonly not the character of grace and agility as its dominant feature, but is distinguished by soft, voluptuous movements, suggestive posturing, and all the wiles by which the performer knows she can best please the other sex, the most forthright and effective means to that commendable end being evocation of man’s baser nature.  The Japanese men are anti-dancers from necessity of costume, if nothing else, and the effect is much the same as elsewhere under the same conditions the women dance, the men gloat and the gods grieve.

There are two kinds of dances in Japan, the one not only lewd, but—­to speak with accurate adjustment of word to fact—­beastly, in the other grace is the dominating element, and decency as cold as a snow storm.  Of the former class, the “Chon Nookee” is the most popular.  It is, however, less a dance than an exhibition, and its patrons are the wicked, the dissolute and the European.  It is commonly given at some entertainment to which respectable women have not the condescension to be invited—­such as a dinner party of some wealthy gentleman’s gentlemen friends.  The dinner-served on the floor—­having been impatiently tucked away, and the candies, cakes, hot saki and other necessary addenda of a Japanese dinner brought in, the “Chon Nookee” is demanded, and with a modest demeanor, worn as becomingly as if it were their every day habit, the performers glide in, seating themselves coyly on the floor, in two rows.  Each dancing girl is appareled in such captivating bravery as her purse can buy or her charms exact.  The folds of her varicolored gowns crossing her bosom makes combinations of rich, warm hues, which it were folly not to admire and peril to admire too much.  The faces of these girls are in many instances exceedingly pretty, but with that natural—­and, be it humbly submitted, not very creditable—­tendency of the sex to revision and correction of nature’s handiwork, they plaster them with pigments dear to the sign painter and temper the red glory of their lips with a bronze preparation which the flattered brass founder would no doubt deem kissable utterly.  The music is made by beating a drum and twanging a kind of guitar, the musician chanting the while to an exceedingly simple air words which, in deference to the possible prejudices of those readers who may be on terms of familarity with the Japanese language, I have deemed it proper to omit—­with an apology to the Prudes for the absence of an appendix in which they might be given without offense. (I had it in mind to insert the music here, but am told by credible authority that in Japan music is moral or immoral without reference to the words that may be sung with it.  So I omit—­with reluctance—­the score, as well as the words.)