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Article LONDON PLATITUDES. ← Page 12 of 13 →
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London Platitudes.
becomes a prudent general to have his telescopes pointed in all directions , and it does not do to leave your rear open . There is an ordinary traffic that goes on at the table , of forgctfulness of which no white-headed toper or amiable proser would excuse you . The' aesthetics of a dinner-table are all very well ; but there are other obligations . The handingof wine
, the answering those who exert themselves to prove conversible to you , the attention to the thousand and one little ^ duties which spring up in the coiu-se of a two or three hours' banquet , all these are expected to engage yoiu- attention as equally as the idealities of passion or the languishments of the most confirmed flirtation . For partI have heart of
my , a butter , and but very little cold philosophy , indeed but a scanty amount of politeness , is to be got out of me when beauty solicits from the other side of the table . At length , the ladies being teamed away , Miss Hufflingun rose ; but she was the last to quit her seat . I thought I could detect a reminding lance that I was not to remain long
g amongst these ivy-crowned votaries of the white-shouldered god . By the thyrsus of the blooming Bacchus I swore to obey her—I determined soon to cut the cords which hound me to the altar of worship of these savage meD , these men of Ind ! Goblets thenceforth became my ghosts , and wine-glasses my witches . I smelt the blood of British men in those
purple and crimson decanters , and in the mawkishness of my temporary idolatry , with my divinity beckoning from amidst her clouds , I fancied myself assisting at some ogre festival , or at some grim saturnalia , of which brass nose-rings were the
savage but most predominating feature . Oh Raffaelle , assist me from these leering Fauni , with goatish pants and hands dripping wine as blood ! I could sing a hymn to thee , classic as that of the shepherds of Ida ; but the stars wink at me from amidst the tangles of this wine-dropping covert . I am not worthof theeoh
y , serenest painter ! Wash off this umber , and cleanse this clotted carmine from my eyes , and with my fresh heart , and with clean hands , will I leap to thine honour , yea , dance as a Corybant , though not in frantic joy , but only with that chaste and becoming hilarity wherewith the kingly sage of Israel celebrated .
The company could make nothing of me . I sat dumb for the remainder of the celebration , looking , I dare say , as gloomy as Nox himself on his throne of rolls of black cloud . I was ungrateful even to mine host , who kindly sought to win me
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
London Platitudes.
becomes a prudent general to have his telescopes pointed in all directions , and it does not do to leave your rear open . There is an ordinary traffic that goes on at the table , of forgctfulness of which no white-headed toper or amiable proser would excuse you . The' aesthetics of a dinner-table are all very well ; but there are other obligations . The handingof wine
, the answering those who exert themselves to prove conversible to you , the attention to the thousand and one little ^ duties which spring up in the coiu-se of a two or three hours' banquet , all these are expected to engage yoiu- attention as equally as the idealities of passion or the languishments of the most confirmed flirtation . For partI have heart of
my , a butter , and but very little cold philosophy , indeed but a scanty amount of politeness , is to be got out of me when beauty solicits from the other side of the table . At length , the ladies being teamed away , Miss Hufflingun rose ; but she was the last to quit her seat . I thought I could detect a reminding lance that I was not to remain long
g amongst these ivy-crowned votaries of the white-shouldered god . By the thyrsus of the blooming Bacchus I swore to obey her—I determined soon to cut the cords which hound me to the altar of worship of these savage meD , these men of Ind ! Goblets thenceforth became my ghosts , and wine-glasses my witches . I smelt the blood of British men in those
purple and crimson decanters , and in the mawkishness of my temporary idolatry , with my divinity beckoning from amidst her clouds , I fancied myself assisting at some ogre festival , or at some grim saturnalia , of which brass nose-rings were the
savage but most predominating feature . Oh Raffaelle , assist me from these leering Fauni , with goatish pants and hands dripping wine as blood ! I could sing a hymn to thee , classic as that of the shepherds of Ida ; but the stars wink at me from amidst the tangles of this wine-dropping covert . I am not worthof theeoh
y , serenest painter ! Wash off this umber , and cleanse this clotted carmine from my eyes , and with my fresh heart , and with clean hands , will I leap to thine honour , yea , dance as a Corybant , though not in frantic joy , but only with that chaste and becoming hilarity wherewith the kingly sage of Israel celebrated .
The company could make nothing of me . I sat dumb for the remainder of the celebration , looking , I dare say , as gloomy as Nox himself on his throne of rolls of black cloud . I was ungrateful even to mine host , who kindly sought to win me