CORRESPONDENCE.
A COMMENTARY IN AN EASY-CHAIR:
GARDEN-PARTIES—THE ADVANTAGE TO YOUNG PEOPLE— THE MELANCHOLY RESULT.
I FORGET who it was that said that life would be tolerable were it not for its amusements.* Whoever it was, he could not be so well aware of the fact as we are now ; for he certainly did not live in the age of garden-parties. This is the era, the epoch of a species of entertainment of which our forefathers did not dream. It is not hospitality, nor is it social enjoy-- ment. It is a means of fnifilling obligations in the cheapest way and with the least trouble possible. Many hideous things are connected with these later years of the Victorian period,— scientific monsters which add much to the miseries of life. It is not enough that we should be obliged to read a tedious speech over and over in the dozen different newspapers which advancing civilisation compels us to glance at, instead of the one trusted diurnal, exponent and inspirer of our political and other sentiments, which was once our guide we must also listen to a ghastly and hoarse audible repe- tition of the same as often as a man with an infernal machine chooses to turn a handle. And we not only have to submit to be telegraphed after wherever we go, but to hear the words of a recall flung into space after us from the very lips of enraged father or spouse. These are bad things enough, malignant curtailments of our personal liberty. But I doubt whether they are so bad as the pleasures, prominent among which at this (damp) season stands the garden-party, the last invention of the evil one, and delight of the human race. It is not a scientific monster, but avowedly founded upon the best principles of our nature : to bring pleasant people together—how good an aim !—to give the young people whom it is the interest of society to pair as [ • It was the late Sir George Comewall Lewis, who certainly lived after thee age of garden-parties had began.—Ev. Spectator.]
appropriately as possible, opportunities of making each other's acquaintance ; and all with the fresh and delightful accom- paniment of "trim gardens," in which retired leisure" delights,—nothing could sound better or more commend itself to the virtuous inclination which, though on pleasure it is bent, still has a frugal mind. These were the temptations held out to the population of Great Britain when they were persuaded to bind this new burden upon their shoulders ;—so good for the young people to meet each other in the fresh air, in the innocence of outdoor games, in that keen criticism of the daylight which disconcerts the artificial and sets off the fresh and young ! Nobody will deny that to make the young people acquainted with each other is one of the chief and most important occupations of society. Whatever Count Tolstoi may say, or the late Mr. Laurence Oliphant, marriage is still very highly thought of in this and in most other countries. To get it arranged suitably, harmoniously, is a pursuit of the greatest national and public, as well as personal, importance. We do not take sufficient pains about it in England, where it is supposed to be chiefly in the interest of the woman (always, according to popular apprehension, a secondary and rather ridiculous object) that it is considered al all—and where husband-hunting is an ignoble performance, pursued by match-making mothers and mercenary maidens. But this is of course, when one comes to reflect, a very foolish view, seeing that the character and well-being of a future generation rests upon the arrangements which we treat so lightly. There will never be, we fear, any perfect way of directing the right young man and the right young woman towards each other. The French way has many advantages over the happy-go-lucky system of our own country : yet all our traditions are in favour of our own way, notwithstanding the horrible chance element in it, and the doubtfulness of a choice founded chiefly on external attractions.
But there can be no doubt that to give the young people an opportunity of making and cultivating acquaintance with each other is an excellent idea, however carried out : and it was with quite a little flush of virtuous enthusiasm that the institution of garden-parties was received. Such a good way for the young folk to see something of each other—better than balls and midnight assemblies! It was in the time of croquet, a grandfatherly game which is periodically predicted to be "coming up again," with no real prospect of ever doing so, that I can see. Croquet was a leisurely sort of amusement. It necessitated consultation between partners, opportunities of conversation, pleasant lingerings about the lawn. It required no painful diversity of costume, mingling scant skirts and flannels with the ordinary gala dresses of civilisation. And the elders seated about were there chiefly in charge of the young people, and more or less apolo- gised to each other for their presence by plaudits of the excel- lent occasion, &c.—the nice, healthy amusement, and so forth. To this mild beginning succeeded a period of wilder exercise, and tennis ruled supreme. It does in some places, perhaps, still; but I think its meetings are now generally called by their right name, and the young people, who are not all young, appear loose and large in flannels, or short and simple in a sort of working. dress meaning business, which is all very well in its way.
The garden-party proper has, however, outlived its occasion. There is, perhaps, a little tennis in a corner, a few youths and maidens disguised in the garments that are adapted for that exercise; but the majority of the guests are of a different character altogether. To attend such a function in the wake of a county Personage in a new locality, being one's self of no particular importance, is a highly instructive operation : though, on the other hand, how it strikes a stranger is perhaps a hard test to which to put any social performance. But one such entertainment closely resembles another. There are everywhere a somewhat similar number of ladies and gentlemen, chiefly clustered around a table upon which are the usual refreshments peculiar to such festivities. Some are walking about the paths and lawns ; a few, with doubts and fears as to the damp. venture to seat themselves in the sunshine in garden chairs upon the exquisite greensward, that velvety growth of centuries, which adds BO much to the beauty of English country houses. But it must be added that it is very often the members of the same party who sit together talking to each other, gently (or other- wise) criticising the mien and dress of their neighbours ; but rising soon with dread suggestions of neuralgia, in- fluenza, and rheumatism, either lose themselves again in the crowd which gravitates towards the modest and sober table, or take another aimless walk upon the gravel to keep themselves warm and pass the time. What is the meaning of it all ? one asks one's self. The alacrity with which the guests depart. the relief on their countenances when it is over, give evidence of no delight. The opportunity for the young people of meeting, &c., is not afforded, nor thought of, I presume. To the host, it is the cheapest way of 'being civil to the widest circle of his acquaintances. To the acquaintances it is—what? I cannot say. A means of converting the mild and passive ennui of country life into an acute paroxysm of boredom, which is an ugly word, but I don't know where to find a better. Perhaps the acute attack thus brought on makes the even tenor of peaceable life more sweet : one falls back into one's private retirement with a renewed sense of the delight of being alone, and not forced to invent conversation, or put on smiles, or catch cold on the faint chance of diverting one's neighbour,— which is so faint a chance, one's neighbour being probably like one's self, so much more happy when he is at home.
This is the relic that is left to us of the bright suggestions of the early days of croquet. I am not a devotee of youth, so far as society is concerned. It is not good, either for manners or for the grace and seemliness of life, when the elders are pushed out of the way, and the younger members of society fill up the whole foreground. But, on the other hand, I think that motive of letting the young ones make acquaintance,
was a: good one, and afforded a very desirable object for outdoor performanees. To look at them and to look after them were respectable human reasons for coming together. In the condition of affairs now, there is no human reason at all,—unless you say that to do a certain social duty cheaply, and with the least possible expendi- ture of trouble, is a good thing. In the old salons in Paris, which we have always heard vaunted as the quint- essence of social life, the expenditure was no more than a little syrup-and-water, a few bonbons, and little cakes. Madame Reeamier would probably give her guests tea ; but I do not think that beverage made much appearance in the Hotel Rambouillet. But the cheapness of the garden-parties is of another description. There is no trouble involved. Green lawns (generally damp) and fine trees (which one care- fully avoids, seeking all the warmth that is to be got out of the sunshine) are not provocative of talk as are bright rooms, and warmth, and the excitement of social contact. It is a melancholy ceremonial altogether. Old Froissart was a very malicious and one-sided person when he described the English as taking their pleasures sadly. All the nations of the earth take their pleasure sadly. Dancing, for instance, is a rite, a species of worship, almost always per- formed with the strictest gravity, at all events in the countries to which the waltz is native. A jig may be merry. and a reel riotous ; but wherever the rotatory movement is the rule, deep seriousness sits on all faces. Therefore, perhaps, it is only natural that the garden-party should be grave. And I am
unable to suggest any way in which it can be prevented from being dull. An outdoor choir is sometimes charming ; but then, again, sometimes it is not, and the sweetest song is wafted away by a capricious breeze, so that the persons intended to be delighted listen in vain. And a band is a good
thing. It gives a general impression of being en file, even to
those who do not care for music. It makes the atmosphere more gay, even if it prevents you (most irritating of pos- sibilities) from hearing yourself speak. But there are a great many people who detest everything which prevents them from hearing themselves speak.
Previous page
