for enjoyment, whereas we often look on it as a continuation of the
business of the day--I say, imagine a Roman girding himself up,
literally girding himself up to make an after-dinner speech.

Milverton. I must allow that is rather a barbarous practice.

Ellesmere. If charity, or politics, cannot be done without such
things, I suppose they are useful in their way; but let nobody ever
imagine that they are a form of pleasure. People smearing each
other over with stupid flattery, and most of the company being in
dread of receiving some compliment which should oblige them to
speak!

Dunsford. I should have thought, now, that you would always have
had something to say, and therefore that you would not be so bitter
against after-dinner speaking.

Ellesmere. No; when I have nothing to say, I can say nothing.

Milverton. Would it not be a pleasant thing if rich people would
ask their friends sometimes to public amusements--order a play for
them, for instance--or at any rate, provide some manifest amusement?
They might, occasionally with great advantage, abridge the expense
of their dinners; and throw it into other channels of hospitality.

Ellesmere. Ah, if they would have good acting at their houses, that
would be very delightful; but I cannot say that the being taken to
any place of public amusement would much delight me. By the way,
Milverton, what do you say of theatres in the way of recreation?
This decline of the drama, too, is a thing you must have thought