A TWELFTH-NIGHT BALL—PANTOPRAGMATIC COOKERY—MODERN VANDALISM—A BOWL OF PUNCH  
     sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet Orcus:
     ergo vivamus, dura licet esse bene.
 
     So must we be, when ends our mortal day:
     Then let us live, while yet live well we may.
 
     Trimalchio, with the silver skeleton: in
     Petronius: c. 34.
Twelfth-night was the night of the ball. The folding-doors of the drawing-rooms, which occupied their entire breadth, were thrown wide open. The larger room was appropriated to grown dancers; the smaller to children, who came in some force, and were placed within the magnetic attraction of an enormous twelfth-cake, which stood in a decorated recess¹. The carpets had been taken up, and the floors were painted with forms in chalk{1} by skilful² artists, under the superintendence of Mr. Pallet. The library, separated from all the apartments by ante-chambers with double doors, was assigned, with an arrangement of whist-tables, to such of the elder portion of the party as might prefer that mode of amusement to being mere³ spectators of the dancing. Mr. Gryll, with Miss Ilex, Mr. MacBorrowdale, and the Reverend Dr. Opimian, established his own quadrille party in a corner of the smaller drawing-room, where they could at once play and talk, and enjoy the enjoyment⁵ of the young. Lord Curryfin was Master of the Ceremonies.
 
     1 These all wear out of me, like forms with chalk Painted on
     rich men's floors, for one feast-night: says Wordsworth, of
     'chance acquaintance,' in his neighbourhood.—Miscellaneous
     Sonnets, No. 39.
After two or three preliminary dances, to give time for the arrival of the whole of the company, the twelfth-cake was divided. The characters were drawn⁶ exclusively among the children, and the little king and queen were duly crowned, placed on a theatrical⁷ throne, and paraded in state round both drawing-rooms, to their own great delight and that of their little associates. Then the ball was supposed to commence, and was by general desire opened with a minuet by Miss Niphet and Lord Curryfin. Then came alternations of quadrilles and country dances, interspersed⁸ with occasional waltzes and polkas. So the ball went merrily, with, as usual, abundant love-making in mute signs and in sotto voce parlance⁹.
 
Lord Curryfin, having brought his own love-making to a satisfactory close, was in exuberant¹⁰ spirits, sometimes joining in the dance, sometimes—in his official capacity—taking the round of the rooms to see that everything was going on to everybody's satisfaction. He could not fail to observe that his proffered¹¹ partnership¹² in the dance, though always graciously, was not so ambitiously accepted as before he had disposed of himself for life. A day had sufficed to ask and obtain the consent of Miss Niphet's father, who now sate¹⁴ on the side of the larger drawing-room, looking with pride and delight on his daughter, and with cordial gratification on her choice; and when it was once, as it was at once known, that Miss Niphet was to be Lady Curryfin, his lordship passed into the class of married men, and was no longer the object of that solicitous¹⁵ attention which he had received as an undrawn prize in the lottery¹⁶ of marriage, while it was probable that somebody would have him, and nobody knew who.
 
The absence of Mr. Falconer was remarked by several young ladies, to whom it appeared that Miss Gryll had lost her two most favoured lovers at once. However, as she had still many others, it was not yet a decided¹⁷ case for sympathy. Of course she had no lack of partners, and whatever might have been her internal anxiety, she was not the least gay among the joyous¹⁸ assembly.
 
Lord Curryfin, in his circuit of the apartments, paused at the quadrille-table, and said, 'You have been absent two or three days, Mr. MacBorrowdale—what news have you brought from London?'
 
Mr. MacBorrowdale. Not much, my lord. Tables turn as usual, and the ghost-trade appears to be thriving instead of being merely audible, the ghosts are becoming tangible¹⁹, and shake hands under the tables with living wiseacres, who solemnly attest²⁰ the fact. Civilised men ill-use their wives; the wives revenge themselves in their own way, and the Divorce Court has business enough on its hands to employ it twenty years at its present rate of progression. Commercial bubbles burst, and high-pressure boilers²¹ blow up, and mountebanks of all descriptions flourish on public credulity. Everywhere there are wars and rumours²² of wars. The Peace Society has wound up its affairs in the Insolvent²³ Court of Prophecy. A great tribulation²⁴ is coming on the earth, and Apollyon in person is to be perpetual dictator all the nations. There is, to be sure, one piece of news your line, but it will be no news to you. There is a meeting of the Pantopragmatic Society, under the presidency²⁵ of Lord Facing-both-ways, who has opened it with a long speech, philanthropically designed as an elaborate exercise in fallacies, for the benefit of young rhetoricians. The society has divided its work into departments, which are to meddle²⁶ with everything, from the highest to the lowest—from a voice in legislation to a finger in Jack²⁷ Horner's pie. I looked for a department of Fish, with your lordship's name at the head of it; but I did not find it. It would be a fine department. It would divide itself naturally into three classes—living fish, fossil fish, and fish in the frying-pan.
 
Lord Curryfin. I assure you, Mr. MacBorrowdale, all this seems as ridiculous now to me as it does to you. The third class of fish is all that I shall trouble myself with in future, and that only at the tables of myself and my friends.
 
Mr. Gryll. I wonder the Pantopragmatics have not a department of cookery; a female department, to teach young wives how to keep their husbands at home, by giving them as good dinners as they can get abroad, especially at club. Those anti-domestic institutions receive their chief encouragment from the total ignorance of cookery on the part of young wives: for in this, as in all other arts of life, it is not sufficient to order what shall be done: it is necessary to know how it ought to be done. This is a matter of more importance to social well-being²⁸ than nine-tenths of the subjects the Pantopragmatics meddle with.
 
The Rev⁴. Dr. Opimian. And therefore I rejoice that they do not meddle with it. A dinner, prepared from a New Art of Cookery, concocted²⁹ under their auspices³⁰, would be more comical ............