LORD CURRYFIN--SIBERIAN DINNERS--SOCIAL MONOTONY
Ille potens sui
laetusque deget, cui licet in diem
dixisse, Vixi: eras vel atra
nube polum pater occupato,
vel sole puro: non tamen irritum
quodcumque retro est, efficiet; neque
diffinget infectumque reddet,
quod fugiens semel hora vexit.
--Hor. Carm. iii. 29.
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call to-day his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day.
Be storm, or calm, or rain, or shine,
The joys I have possessed in spite of fate are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been has been, and I have had my hour.
--Dryden.
A large party was assembled at the Grange. Among them were some of the
young ladies who were to form the chorus; one elderly spinster, Miss
Ilex, who passed more than half her life in visits, and was everywhere
welcome, being always good-humoured, agreeable in conversation, having
much knowledge of society, good sense in matters of conduct, good taste
and knowledge in music; sound judgment in dress, which alone sufficed
to make her valuable to young ladies; a fair amount of reading, old
and new; and on most subjects an opinion of her own, for which she had
always something to say; Mr. MacBorrowdale, an old friend of Mr. Gryll,
a gentleman who comprised in himself all that Scotland had ever been
supposed to possess of mental, moral, and political philosophy; 'And
yet he bore it not about'; not 'as being loth to wear it out,'{1} but
because he held that there was a time for all things, and that dinner
was the time for joviality, and not for argument; Mr. Minim, the amateur
composer of the music for the comedy; Mr. Pallet, the amateur painter
of the scenery; and last, not least, the newly-made acquaintance, Lord
Curryfin.
1 We grant, although he had much wit,
H. was very shy of using it,
As being loth to wear it out;
And therefore bore it not about,
Except on holidays or so,
As men their best apparel do.
Hudibras.
Lord Curryfin was a man on the younger side of thirty, with a good
person, handsome features, a powerful voice, and an agreeable delivery.
He had a strong memory, much power of application, and a facility of
learning rapidly whatever he turned his mind to. But with all this, he
valued what he learned less for the pleasure which he derived from the
acquisition, than from the effect which it enabled him to produce on
others. He liked to shine in conversation, and there was scarcely a
subject which could be mooted in any society, on which his multifarious
attainments did not qualify him to say something. He was readily taken
by novelty in doctrine, and followed a new lead with great pertinacity;
and in this way he had been caught by the science of pantopragmatics,
and firmly believed for a time that a scientific organisation for
teaching everybody everything would cure all the evils of society. But
being one of those 'over sharp wits whose edges are very soon turned,'
he did not adhere to any opinion with sufficient earnestness to be on
any occasion betrayed into intemperance in maintaining it. So far from
this, if he found any unfortunate opinion in a hopeless minority of the
company he happened to be in, he was often chivalrous enough to come
to its aid, and see what could be said for it. When lecturing became a
mania, he had taken to lecturing; and looking about for an unoccupied
subject, he had lighted on the natural history of fish, in which he soon
became sufficiently proficient to amuse the ladies, and astonish the
fishermen in any seaside place of fashionable resort. Here he always
arranged his lecture-room, so that the gentility of his audience could
sit on a platform, and the natives in a gallery above, and that thus the
fishy and tarry odours which the latter were most likely to bring with
them might ascend into the upper air, and not mingle with the more
delicate fragrances that surrounded the select company below. He took
a summer tour to several watering-places, and was thoroughly satisfied
with his success. The fishermen at first did not take cordially to him;
but their wives attended from curiosity, and brought their husbands with
them on nights not favourable to fishing; and by degrees he won on their
attention, and they took pleasure in hearing him, though they learned
nothing from him that was of any use in their trade. But he seemed to
exalt their art in the eyes of themselves and others, and he told them
some pleasant anecdotes of strange fish, and of perilous adventures of
some of their own craft, which led in due time to the crowding of his
gallery. The ladies went, as they always will go, to lectures, where
they fancy they learn something, whether they learn anything or not; and
on these occasions, not merely to hear the lecturer, but to be seen
by him. To them, however attractive the lecture might have been, the
lecturer was more so. He was an irresistible temptation to matrons with
marriageable daughters, and wherever he sojourned he was overwhelmed
with invitations. It was a contest who should have him to dinner, and
in the simplicity of his heart, he ascribed to admiration of his science
and eloquence all the courtesies and compliments with which he was
everywhere received. He did not like to receive unreturned favours, and
never left a place in which he had accepted many invitations, without
giving in return a ball and supper on a scale of great munificence;
which filled up the measure of his popularity, and left on all his
guests a very enduring impression of a desire to see him again.
So his time passed pleasantly, with a heart untouched by either love
or care, till he fell in at a dinner party with the Reverend Doctor
Opimian. The doctor spoke of Gryll Grange and the Aristophanic comedy
which was to be produced at Christmas, and Lord Curryfin, with his usual
desire to have a finger in every pie, expressed an earnest wish to be
introduced to the squire. This was no difficult matter. The doctor
had quickly brought it about, and Lord Curryfin had gone over in the
doctor's company to pass a few days at the Grange. Here, in a very short
time, he had made himself completely at home; and had taken on himself
the office of architect, to superintend the construction of the theatre,
receiving with due deference instructions on the subject from the
Reverend Doctor Opimian.
Sufficient progress had been made in the comedy for the painter and
musician to begin work on their respective portions; and Lord Curryfin,
whose heart was in his work, passed whole mornings in indefatigable
attention to the progress of the building. It was near the house,
and was to be approached by a covered way. It was a miniature of the
Athenian theatre, from which it differed in having a roof, but it
resembled it in the arrangements of the stage and orchestra, and in the
graduated series of semicircular seats for the audience.
When dinner was announced, Mr. Gryll took in Miss Ilex. Miss Gryll, of
course, took the arm of Lord Curryfin. Mr. Falconer took in one of the
young ladies, and placed her on the left hand of the host. The Reverend
Dr. Opimian took in another, and was consequently seated between her
and Miss Ilex. Mr. Falconer was thus as far removed as possible from the
young lady of the house, and was consequently, though he struggled as
much as possible against it, frequently _distrait_, unconsciously
and unwillingly observing Miss Gryll and Lord Curryfin, and making
occasional observations very wide of the mark to the fair damsels on
his right and left, who set him down in their minds for a very odd
young man. The soup and fish were discussed in comparative silence; the
entrées not much otherwise; but suddenly a jubilant expression from Mr.
MacBorrowdale hailed the disclosure of a large sirloin of beef which
figured before _Mr. Gryll._
_Mr. MacBorrowdale_. You are a man of taste, _Mr. Gryll._ That is a
handsomer ornament of a dinner-table than clusters of nosegays, and all
sorts of uneatable decorations. I detest and abominate the idea of
a Siberian dinner, where you just look on fiddle-faddles, while your
dinner is behind a screen, and you are served with rations like a
pauper.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I quite agree with Mr. MacBorrowdale. I like to
see my dinner. And herein I rejoice to have Addison on my side; for I
remember a paper, in which he objects to having roast beef placed on a
sideboard. Even in his day it had been displaced to make way for some
incomprehensible French dishes, among which he could find nothing
to eat.{1} I do not know what he would have said to its being placed
altogether out of sight. Still there is something to be said on the
other side. There is hardly one gentleman in twenty who knows how to
carve; and as to ladies, though they did know once on a time, they do
not now. What can be more pitiable than the right-hand man of the lady
of the house, awkward enough in himself, with the dish twisted round
to him in the most awkward possible position, digging in unutterable
mortification for a joint which he cannot find, and wishing the
unanatomisable volaille behind a Russian screen with the footmen?
1 I was now in great hunger and confusion, when I thought I
smelled the agreeable savour of roast beef; but could not
tell from which dish it arose, though I did not question but
it lay disguised in one of them. Upon turning my head I saw
a noble sirloin on the side-table, smoking in the most
delicious manner. I had recourse to it more than once, and
could not see without some indignation that substantial
English dish banished in so ignominious a manner, to make
way for French kickshaws.--Taller. No. 148.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ I still like to see the _volaille_. It might be put
on table with its joints divided.
_Mr. Gryll._ As that turkey-poult is, Mr. MacBorrowdale; which gives
my niece no trouble; but the precaution is not necessary with such a
right-hand man as Lord Curryfin, who carves to perfection.
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Your arrangements are perfect. At the last of these
Siberian dinners at which I had the misfortune to be present, I
had offered me, for two of my rations, the tail of a mullet and the
drumstick of a fowl. Men who carve behind screens ought to pass a
competitive examination before a jury of gastronomers. Men who carve at
a table are drilled by degrees into something like tolerable operators
by the mere shame of the public process.
_Mr. Gryll._ I will guarantee you against a Siberian dinner, whenever
you dine with me.
_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ Mr. Gryll is a true conservative in dining.
_Mr. Gryll._ A true conservative, I hope. Not what a _soi-disant_
conservative is practically: a man who sails under national colours,
hauls them down, and hoists the enemy's, like old customs. I like a
glass of wine with a friend. What say you, doctor? Mr. MacBorrowdale
will join us?
_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Most willingly.
_Miss Gryll._ My uncle and the doctor have got as usual into a
discussion, to the great amusement of the old lady who sits between them
and says nothing.
Lord Curryfin, Perhaps their discussion is too recondite for her.
_Miss Gryll._ No; they never talk before ladies of any subject in which
ladies cannot join. And she has plenty to say for herself when she
pleases. But when conversation pleases her, she likes to listen and be
silent. It strikes me, by a few words that float this way, that they are
discussing the Art of Dining. She ought to be a proficient in it, for
she lives much in the world, and has met as many persons whom she is
equally willing either to meet to-morrow, or never to meet again, as
any regular _dineur en ville_. And indeed that is the price that must
be paid for society. Whatever difference of character may lie under the
surface, the persons you meet in its circles are externally others
yet the same: the same dress, the same manners, the same tastes and
opinions, real or assumed. Strongly defined characteristic differences
are so few, and artificial general resemblances so many, that in every
party you may always make out the same theatrical company. It is like
the flowing of a river: it is always different water, but you do not see
the difference.
Lord Curryfin. For my part I do not like these monotonous exteriors. I
like visible character. Your uncle and Mr. MacBorrowdale are characters.
Then the Reverend Dr. Opimian. He is not a man made to pattern. He is
simple-minded, learned, tolerant, and the quintessence of _bonhomie_.
The young gentleman who arrived to-day, the Hermit of the Folly, is
evidently a character. I flatter myself, I am a character (_laughing_).
Miss Gryll (_laughing_). Indeed you are, or rather many characters in
one. I never knew a man of such infinite variety. You seem always to
present yourself in the aspect in which those you are with would best
wish to see you.
There was some ambiguity in the compliment; but Lord Curryfin took it as
implying that his aspect in all its variety was agreeable to the young
lady. He did not then dream of a rival in the Hermit of the Folly.