210
STEVEN MARCUS
itself, and the function of the very band appeared to be to drown
not noise, but stillness.
The younger portion of the company formed the dances,
and enjoyed themselves after the manner of youth, but I may
fairly say, without offence to the most fastidious eye or ear.
. . . The officiating member of the executive, Policeman T,
had taken up an amiably discreet position, where his presence
could in no way appear symptomatic of pressure, and the
chances seemed to be, that had he stood so posed until his
interference was necessary on behalf of public order, he might
have been there to this day.
Lemonade and sherry seemed to please the dancers, and
the loungers indulged the waiters' importunity with a rare
order for bitter-beer. A strongish party of undergraduates
in drinking-all males-were deepening their native dulness
in a corner with bottled stout, and more seasoned vessels
struggled against depression with hot grog. In front of the
liquor-bar ... two rosy capitalists (their wives at Brighton or
elsewhere) were pouring, for mere distraction's sake, libations
of fictitious Moet, to the memory of auld lang syne with some
fat old
dames de maison,
possibly extinct planets of the Georgian
era. There was no drunkenness here to take hold of. As I have
before recorded, there was among the general company barely
vivacity, much less boisterous disorder. Let me
try
the assembly
for immodest, brazen-faced solicitation by women. I declare
my belief that I never saw the notoriously anti-sociable habit
of English people more rigorously adhered to. Of the character
of the female visitors .. . I could have little moral doubt, but it
was dear enough that self-proclamation by any great number
of them was out of the question. It was open to the male visitors
to invite attention and solicit acquaintance. No gentlemanly
proposition of the kind would have been rebuffed, no courteous
offer of refreshment, possibly, declined, but I am firmly of
opinion, that had the most eligible men present tarried in hopes
of overtures from the other side, they might have been there
yet, with Policeman
T.
This is a surprising bit of writing. Though it is a description of
an occasion for "pleasure," the passage it should be put alongside of
is
Dickens's description in
Little Dorrit
of a London Sunday evening.
The quality of depression in both is similar.
It
may also serve as a
