by
which feeling is dissipated, as in tears, without being embodied and
intellectualised, as in a work of art.

[Sidenote: The dance.]

[Sidenote: Functions of gesture.]

The dance is an early practice that passes after this fashion into an
art. A prancing stallion may transfigure his movements more beautifully
than man is capable of doing; for the springs and limits of effect are
throughout mechanical, and man, in more than one respect, would have to
become a centaur before he could rival the horse's prowess. Human
instinct is very imperfect in this direction, and grows less happy the
more artificial society becomes; most dances, even the savage ones, are
somewhat ridiculous. A rudimentary instinct none the less remains, which
not only involves a faculty of heightened and rhythmic motion, but also
assures a direct appreciation of such motion when seen in others. The
conscious agility, _fougue_, and precision which fill the performer
become contagious and delight the spectator as well. There are indeed
dances so ugly that, like those of contemporary society, they cannot be
enjoyed unless they are shared; they yield pleasures of exercise only,
or at best of movement in unison. But when man was nearer to the animal
and his body and soul were in happier conjunction, when society, too,
was more compulsive over the individual, he could lend himself more
willingly and gracefully to being a figure in the general pageant of the
world. The dance could then detach itself from its early association
with war and courtship and ally itself rather to religion and art. From
being a spontaneous vent for excitement, or a blind means of producing
it, the dance became a form of discipline and conscious social
control--a cathartic for the soul; and this by a quite intelligible
transition. Gesture, of which the dance is merely a pervasive use, is an
incipient action. It is conduct in the groping stage, before it has lit
on its purpose, as can be seen unmistakably in all the gesticulation of
love and defiance. In this way the dance is attached to life initially
by its physiological origin. Being an incipient act, it naturally leads
to its own completion and may arouse in others the beginnings of an
appropriate response. Gesture is only less catching and less eloquent
than action itself. But gesture, while it has this power of suggesting
action and stimulating the response which would be appropriate if the
action took place, may be arrested