AFTER DINNER.

New Zealander, Volume XVIII, Issue 1725, 20 September 1862, Page 4

AFTER DINNER.

(From the " Saturday Review.'')

There are two great objects in dinner parties besides the subsidiary and meaner one of clearing oft' a certain amount of friends to whom we owe a repast. The first and greatest object is to eat and drink good things. The second object is to enjoy the society o persons who are not members of your own household Both these objects are, in a great measure, defeated by the ladies going away before dinner is over. The dinner is not so 5400! when this is done. Theoretically it cannot be so good; for if the proper wines are taken with the proper dishes, there is no more to be done. All else is excess, and excess is a diminution of goodness. The English, owing to their habit of stowing away a pint of wine after the ladies have gone, and of reserving red wines till after dinner, have quite missed the use of red wines at dinner. On the continent the red wine always comes first, and then the sparkling white wines. They have no sherry, poor creatures, and so they cannot*take any after soup. But we must give good people credit for good intentions, and we may be sure they would take sherry then, if they could get" it. For most meats red wine is much more suitable than white, and anything sweet and fizzing is singularly inappropriate to beef and mutton. On the other hand, champagne is appropriate to sweets and ices and fruit. But in England the wine that circles with strawberries is often 11 strong red wine. English peopje may see this, but they h?,ve bpep «o accustomed

to put off their red wines to the dreary time of after dinner, that they think that, unless they get their red wine late, they shall not get it at all. They Woul( j soon alter their views if fashion would let them, and they need not be afraid that what they consider their proper quantity of wine would be taken away from them There would be more crowded into less space than now' and this would suit two sets of people. It would sui't those who wanted to drink, for they would get their wine, and it would suit those who do not want to drink, for they would be saved the nuisance of having to sit playing with a glass of water while they look at other people drinking port and claret. The only re&. son that ever could have been urged for sitting "drinking after dinner has been taken away by a benevolent interposition of Nature. Port, when port existed, was a fine beverage in its way; and as it could not be dsunk at dinner, it had to be drunk after dinner. But now port is no more, or if it exists, it exists in the cellars of the few who, if they deserve to have it, are far too wise to throw it away on a mixed company. The present custom is also an unwholesome one. I n the first place, the wine drunk at dinner, with one or two glasses after, is quite enough tor any man, and therefore that which is extra is unwholesome. But this is not the principal cause of unwholesomenesf. What is really fatal is the passionate license with which men throw themselves into fruits, sweets, and jams of all kinds when Uw ladies arc gone. Demure men who faintly smile at cakes and preserves when the Indies are there, throw oil'the mantle of their shallow hypocrisy when left alone. It is curious that they are not ashamed of each other, but they are not. Fatly this comes from the love of a pleasure something like that which promps boys to rob orchards. ' It seems such fun to get at the candied things when ladies are not looking. The guardians are away, e,nd so such awful burthens as greengages hardened with sugar to the consistency of gutta pcrchaare frantically devoured in a strange spirit of bravado. There is, too, a triumphant feeling of condemning the expense when a man gets a dishful of forced peaches into a quiet comer, and works them off one after another. Bat there is also another reason why men do things of this sort. They do them often in sheer desperation. They do not know what to say to each other; and after a momentary survey of their next neighbour, and one glance of icy defiance, they sink into silence. There is at one end, perhaps, a drowsy, d:eary hum, where the host is doing conversation. But a remote and faint whisper from a bewildered man striving, to say, in a natural, pleasant way, that it is a cold summer—or that London is full —or that things are looking queer in America —is not an effectual restraint on the passions of a weak being, with the greengages fatally near him, and maddened by the oppressiveness of silent people all around him. stroking their beards and kicking out their legs. The ladies can have no conception how dull it is for the men they leave. They themselves have always two resources. They can be kind and friendly to" their companions upstairs, and talk about babies and servants and dress; or they can be unkind and amuse themselves with the thousand prettv devices of feminine cruelty. Either way, they can get through the time. But the men sit silent, stony, neither kind hor unkind, like gods exiled from Olympus, ever eating candied fruit in the desolation of their overpowering ennui. This retiring of the ladies spoils the social effect of a dinner in every way. The great use of a dinner party socially is the opportunity of talking to other people's wives." This is what it really comes to. It is a great pleasure to talk to a lady who is friendly, unreserved, sure of herself, and without a thought of being made love to. Of young ladies at dinner parties we do not make much account. It is quite right they should go there to learn the way of business when they come to have houses of their own, to make the tiring look fresh and pretty, and to babble with some of the stony men about the Exhibition. But the married ladies are the charmers at a dinner-party. They belong ia the first instance to their husbands, but they also belong to society, and this is the way in which society gets at them." They can let their friends who sit next them at dinner taste a little of their pleasantness without detriment to the claims of home. The companionship for two or three hours of a well-bred, clever woman, not afraid or unwilling to talk, and with enough character to be above affectation, is one of the most agreeable things life away from home hits to offer. Such a woman is indeed rather a picked specimen, but still a very large number of women in London, make a very tolerable approach to this kind of excellence. This is, at anv rate, the social pleasure which dinner gives us, if it gives us any; and yet a foolish custom bids ns throw it away at a certain point of the entertainment. and sink into the vacuous despair of the neighbourhood of unknown men. Nor is the broken for another tyrannous custom orders thatjjJ'Ji ladies go upstairs they shall, before the men into a hollow square, as if to resist a cavalry. The whole upstairs part of the jrith its entire absence of ease anil comfort is a miserable affair. There is a prevalent indisposition on the part of all English people to join in that general conversation of a large party which is the delight and pride of French society, arid the battle array of the ladies prevents the easy and unnoticed formation of sociable groups. It is in vain the hostess tries to make her guests converse bv getting up "a little music," and ordering her daughters to sing. The ladies are barricaded off by their position, and the men are feeling the pressure of their vulcanised greengages. At last the carriages are announced, the faces of the guests brighten with a sudden tremulous half concealed joy, as if they were listening to the end of a sermon, and hur.y off, some to the sensible luxury of bed, and some to the joyless joy of an evening crush.