_They never sing without
dancing, never dance without singing, and have but one word
to express both song and dance._'

As the unprejudiced reader sees [Dr Gummere proceeds]
this clear and admirable account confirms the doctrine of
early days revived with fresh ethnological evidence in the
writings of Dr Brown and of Adam Smith, that dance, poetry
and song were once a single and inseparable function, and is
in itself fatal to the idea of rhythmic prose, of solitary
recitation, as foundations of poetry.... All poetry is
communal, holding fast to the rhythm of consent as to the
one sure fact.

IV

Now I should tell you, Gentlemen, that I hold such utterances as
this last--whatever you may think of the utterances of the
Botocudos--to be exorbitant: that I distrust all attempts to
build up (say) "Paradise Lost" historically from the yells and
capers of recondite savages. 'Life is real, life is earnest' may
be no better aesthetically (I myself think it a little better)
than 'Now we have something to eat' 'Brandy is good' may rival
Pindar's [Greek: Arioton men udor], and indeed puts what it
contains of truth with more of finality, less of provocation
(though Pindar at once follows up [Greek: Arioton men udor] with
exquisite poetry): but you cannot--truly you cannot--exhibit the
steps which lead up from 'Brandy is good' to such lines as

Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.

I bend over the learned page pensively, and I seem to see a
Botocudo Professor--though not high 'in the social scale,' they
may have such things--visiting Cambridge on the last night of the
Lent races and reporting of its inhabitants as follows:

They pay scant heed to their chiefs: they live only for their
immediate bodily needs, and take small thought for the
morrow. On festal occasions the whole horde meets by night
round the camp fire for a dance. Each dancer lays his arms
about the necks of his two neighbours, stamping strongly
with one foot and dragging the other after it. Now with
drooping heads they press closer and closer together; now
they widen the circle. Often one can hear nothing but a
continually repeated _kalani aha,_ or again one hears short
improvised songs in which we are told the doings of the day,
the reasons for rejoi