"Why do you read it?" he continued after a pause.

"It teaches us the way to heaven," said Grace.

"And you are trying to live for heaven?"

"I try to shun all evil as sin. Can I do more?"

All the minister's creeds, and doctrines, and confessions of faith, which he had ever considered the foundations upon which Christian life was to be built, seemed, for a moment or two, useless lumber before the simple creed of this loving, pure-hearted maiden. To seek to disturb this state of innocence and obedience by moody polemics, he felt, instinctively, to be wrong.

"Perhaps not," was his half abstracted reply; "perhaps not. Yes, yes; shun what is evil, and the Lord will adjoin the good."

"Yes, yes; she _is_ a good girl, as her mother says," was frequently repeated by Uncle Archer during the day, when he would think of Grace.

Evening came, and young and old began to gather in the parlours. The minister was introduced to one and another, as they arrived, and was much gratified with the respect and attention shown to him by all.

Grace soon drew around him three or four of her young friends, who listened to what he had to say with an interest that gratified his feelings. Nothing had been said to Grace of her uncle's prejudice against dancing; she was, therefore, no little surprised to see the sudden change in his manner, when she said to a young lady in the group around him--

"Come! you must play some cotillions for us. We're going to have a dance."

After going with the young lady to the piano, and opening it for her, Grace went back to her uncle, whose face she found deeply clouded.

"A'n't you well, uncle?" she asked, affectionately.

"Oh yes, child, I am well enough in body," was replied.

"But something troubles you, uncle--what is it?"

By this time a number of couples were on the floor, and at the moment, a young man came up to Grace, and said--

"Shall I have the pleasure of dancing with you this evening?"

"Not in the first set," replied Grace; "but I will consider myself engaged for the second, unless you can find a more agreeable partner."

"Do you dance, then?" asked Uncle Arthur, gravely, after the young man had turned away.

"Dance?" Grace was in doubt whether she had clearly understood him.

"Yes, dear."

"Certainly I do, uncle. You don't think there is harm in dancing?"

"I do, my child. And, I am sure that, after what you said about reading your Bible and trying to live for heaven, your admission greatly surprises me. Religion and dancing! How can they have an affinity?"

"Good and evil can have no affinity," said Grace, in reply to this remark. "Evil, I have always understood to be in a purpose to do wrong. Now, I can dance with a good purpose; and, surely, then, dancing cannot be evil to me."

"Dance with a good purpose! How can you do that, my dear?"

"I have often danced with the sole end of contributing my share to the general enjoyment of a company."

"Strange enjoyment!" sighed the old parson.

"The timing of steps, and the orderly movement of the body in concert with musical harmonies, often affects the mind with exquisite delight, uncle. I have enjoyed this over and over again, and have felt better and happier afterwards."

"Child! child!" replied the old man; "how it grieves me to hear you say this."

"If there is sin in dancing, uncle," said Grace, seriously, "tell me wherein it lies. Look at the countenances of those now on the floor; do they express evil or good affection?--here, as I have been taught, lies the sin."

"It is a foolish waste of time," returned the old man; "a foolish waste of time; and it is an evil thing to waste the precious time that G.o.d has given to us."

"We cannot always work or read. Both mind and body become wearied."

"Then we have time for meditation."

"But even thought will grow burdensome at times, and the mind sink into listlessness and inactivity. Then we need recreation, in order that we may afterwards both work and think better. Music and dancing, in which mind and body find an innocent delight, effect such a recreation. I know it is so in my case; and I know it is so in the case of others. You do not say that dancing is a thing evil in itself?"

"No." This was admitted rather reluctantly.

"Then if it be made to serve a good end, it is a good thing."

"But is often made to serve evil," said the minister.

"Then it is an evil thing," promptly answered Grace; "and so every good gift of heaven may be made an evil thing to those who use it for an evil purpose. You know it is said that a spider extracts poison from the same flower where the bee gets honey. The deadly nightshade draws life from the same rain and sunshine that nourishes and matures the wheat, from which our bread is made. It is the purpose, uncle, that makes a thing evil."

"Could you pray on going to bed, after an evening spent in dancing?"

asked the old man, confident that he had put a question that would clearly show his niece her error. To his surprise, Grace answered, with a beautiful smile on her face--

"Oh, yes; and I have so prayed, many and many a time; not failing to return thanks for the pleasure I had been permitted to enjoy."

"Thanks for mere carnal pleasure!"

"All things are good that are filled with good affections," said Grace. "We are in a natural world, where all pleasure and pain affect us in the natural degree most sensibly. We must come down, that we may go up. We must let our natural joy and gladness have free course, innocently, that they may be changed into a joy that is higher and spiritual. Is it not so, uncle?"

Now, the old man had not expected to find such a nice head on so young a body; nor did he expect to be called upon to answer a question, which came in a form that he was not prepared either to negative or affirm. He had put all natural pleasures under the ban, as flowing from the carnal mind; and, therefore, evil. As to filling natural pleasures with spiritual life, that was a new position in theology. He had preached against natural pleasures as evil, and, therefore, to be abandoned by all who would lead a heavenly life.

Before he could collect his thoughts for an answer satisfactory to himself, two or three ladies gathered around them, and he discreetly forebore to make any further remarks on the subject. But he felt, as may be supposed, very uncomfortable.

After the first set was danced, one of the young ladies who had been on the floor, and who had previously been introduced to the old gentleman by Grace, came, with colour heightened by excitement, and her beautiful face in a glow of pleasure, and sat down by his side.

Mr. Archer would have received her with becoming gravity, had it been in his power to, do so; but the smile on her face was so innocent, and she bent towards him so kindly and affectionately, that he could not find it in his heart to meet her with even a silent reproof. This young lady was really charming his ear, when a gentleman came up to her, and said--

"Anna, I want you to dance with me."

"With pleasure," replied the girl. "You will excuse me for a while, Mr. Archer," said she, and she was about rising as she spoke, but the old man placed his hand upon her arm, and gently detained her.

"You're not going to leave me?"

"No, not if my company will give you any pleasure," replied the young girl, with a gentle smile. "Please excuse me." This she addressed to the person who had asked her to dance. He bowed, and turned away.

"I am glad to keep you by my side," said Mr. Archer, with some seriousness in his manner.

"And I am glad to stay here," was promptly answered, "if my company will give you any pleasure. It does me good to contribute to others'

happiness."