ks of all this.

_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Troth, my lord, I think we have strayed far away
from the good company we began with. We have lost sight of Jack of
Dover. But the discussion had one bright feature. It did not interfere
with, it rather promoted, the circulation of the bottle: for every man
who spoke pushed it on with as much energy as he spoke with, and those
who were silent swallowed the wine and the opinion together, as if they
relished them both.

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ So far, discussion may find favour. In my own
experience I have found it very absorbent of claret. But I do not think
it otherwise an incongruity after dinner, provided it be carried on,
as our disquisitions have always been, with frankness and good humour.
Consider how much instruction has been conveyed to us in the form of
conversations at banquet, by Plato and Xenophon and Plutarch. I read
nothing with more pleasure than their _Symposia_: to say nothing of
Athenaeus, whose work is one long banquet.

_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Nay, I do not object to conversation on any
subject. I object to after-dinner lectures. I have had some unfortunate
experiences. I have found what began in conversation end in a lecture. I
have, on different occasions, met several men, who were in that respect
all alike. Once started they never stopped. The rest of the good
company, or rather the rest which without them would have been good
company, was no company. No one could get in a word. They went on with
one unvarying stream of monotonous desolating sound. This makes me
tremble when a discussion begins. I sit in fear of a lecture.

_Lord Curryfin._ Well, you and I have lectured, but never after dinner.
We do it when we have promised it, and when those who are present expect
it. After dinner, I agree with you, it is the most doleful blight that
can fall on human enjoyment.

_Mr. MacBorrowdale._ I will give you one or two examples of these
postprandial inflictions. One was a great Indian reformer. He did not
open his mouth till he had had about a bottle and a half of wine. Then
he burst on us with a declamation on all that was wrong in India,
and its remedy. He began in the Punjab, travelled to Calcutta, went
southward, got into the Temple of Juggernaut, went southward again, and
after holding forth for more than an hour, paused for a moment. The man
who sate next him attempted to speak: but the orator clapped him on the
arm, and said: 'Excuse me: now I come to Madras