IS DANCING WRONG IN WAR TIME?

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 276, 18 May 1917, Page 4 (Supplement)

IS DANCING WRONG IN WAR TIME?

i HE NEW CIU'SADE AGAINST AMUSEMENTS.

By L. TEMPLE THURSTON", in the Sundav Pictorial."

(Mr. Temple Tnurston, tho wellKnwvn novelist ,ind playwright, urges that the present crusade in England against dances and other light amusements is ill-ad-t.'sed, and points. to our need for mental tonic during these days of stress and strain.

On the eve of Waterloo a ball was givvn by the Duchess of Richmond in Brussels. Dancing continued far into the night.

1 ho Duke of Wellington wa.s supping at the party when the bugles flung their notes across the silent streets of tno city, and the .sounds of music died away into the tramp of feet through tho forest of Soignies, as the Army marched towards Quatre Bns in the grey twilight of the early morning. One thinks of tne eve of that historic ha'tlo when one hears the murmur of tlie present crusade against amusement that has arisen in England during the last few davs.

God knows the line between Life and Death has been worn down in these times of war to the thinness of a tautened thread, but must we walk aJong it with all tho dreariness of a funeral procession ?

lue plea of those who are waving the flag of this crusade is against extravagance, as though even war, and of such a magnitude as this, could ever teach tiie whole people tho lesson of c.ononiv.

These who still fl'ng away thoir money on dinners and suppers at the fashionable restaurants in London are :n the great minority. Tney are the ones who will never learn, fiowever stern the master, however dear the lesson. Tiiero will always he such dullards in the world, hut must the law be made for them? \ et the existence of such as these 19 at the back of this new crusade against amusements. It seems we are no longer to dance at tiie hall on the eve of Waterloo. Already the clinking of .spurs has been silenced. Not a sword is tapping on the bootheels, notwithstanding that the men who have fought in the trenches come back for their fewdays' leave longing to forget, for soon they will l>e remembering it aJI again. But are they not even to look on? May they not even forget in tiie sight of another's forgetting? Are the shutters to be put up 011 all the windows of tiie Duchess of Richmond's house, and are the men to march through the dim forest of Soignies without one sound of music still ranging in their cars ?

As a nat'.on, it is sa'd, we take our pleasures sadly. Allowing that to be so, are we to be prevented from taking our duty with a cheerful heart? Except for that ignorant minority, there is scarcelv one of us who has not passed through the phases of colossal optimism ;'!id disheartening pessimism to that large spirit of determination which the result of tiie War Loan has proved to all the world.

We know that it is a fight to the death, with the end, despite all statements. net yet 'n sight.. But is it because so much learning makes .Tack a' dull boy that we must elo'e our theatres while there is a weman left to struggle to her top note or an old man fit to make up for a lover's role? Is it because we know our duty and havo proved such knowledge to tiie world thot we must convince ourselves we are in earnest by shutting up our picture palaces so long as there is a soldier back from the trenches who wants to forget?

In the munition factories, when Zeppoli'is arc reported on the way, the order is given for all lights to be extinguished, while all men and women are commanded to stay at their posts. What happens? One'and all they hegin to s'ng —solos, part-songs, ditt'es from the musical comedies and the revues. That is Ihe instinct of human nature, and that is the instinct of all of lis who are crowding, when the day's work K done, to the flmsy, catchy entertainment of the revues * and the seemingly aimless hopping to and fro on tiie ballroom floor. A FATAL STATE OF MIND. Every one of us now, exceot that ignorant minority, is at work in the factory of the war; and day by day, with evorv tresh menace of the enemy—be it submarines or sudden concentrations of troops —it is as though the Zeppelins were reported on the way. The strain is endless, the darkness only a little lighter as the months go by. Is it not, then, a God-sent instinct that makes one want to sing to keep one's pc?kcr up

to -e;v-p tliat s'ngng, it to me, wo'iid lie the revelation of two widely different states of mind, and one no less fatal than the other. For either 't would mean that we had come upon despa'r, and could no longer whistle a tune to dare the devil; or that, jifter all thi-> teaching in the bitter school of war, we iiad not yet quite learned our lesson, were still ignorant of the need for great endeavour, were still blind to that stretch of road that has to bo marched before the end is tome. Mostly, I r -el it would indicate despair, for T cannot believe, from all 1 hear, thatthere is one who does not know the road that is to be marched and who, with that knowledge, would not ask for the beat of music to set his steps to, and keep h's heart pulsing high benaath his jacket. THE SPIRIT THAT RIDES TO VICTORY.

'"ho complaint is extravagance. Well, and is not war it<e'f the very essence of extravagance I' And is not this need for- sing'tig a part ct it!' It is not t'i l> t > supposed that the revive which fills the theatres t-d.iy is going to l>e the fare for those who respect 'the theatre in the future t:rae of peace. The war has called for the revue tor the one most excellent reason that it needed it. It is amusement, no more. It is the sinking in the darkness while we stand to our posts. It is the voice of the Nation that knows how it treads upon the border line between Life and Death. If we must he extravagant with the lives of men. that is no call for us to he stingy with our spirits.

'.'he will to win, if it is in the wind, is also m the heart, and if in the heart there is nothing but the perversity of man --an keep it. from the lips. We are sinking, we are dancing, we are even making some merriment in England, but. it is because we mean to win and must bear the pain it brings us. There is all the hope Hi the world for the .*,;)ii'it that rides to Victory. It is folly, in tilts third year of the war, to say that we do not realise; it is false to talk of extravagance when blnod is be'njr spilt in rivers and money being spent like chaff. All war is extravagant. but it must be in those things which lead to Victory. For Heaven's sake. then. let- us be extravagant in determination and 'n hope, rather than in silence and despair to even <nioss the menu ins of fatigue. E. TEMPLE THURSTON.