In the drawing-room most of the tables are marble. From the ceiling is suspended a number of small plated chandeliers with glass drops; in another room is a good piano-forte, and after dinner some very tolerable music and singing. There is also a little rational conversation.
A BACHELOR'S PARTY.
But now let me describe a bachelor's party at the commissioner's, who, by the way, is above the judge in rank and in salary. I say a bachelor's party, because his wife is gone to England for her health, and he cannot therefore invite ladies. Before dinner there is much general conversation about races, church-building, hunting, the paucity of chaplains, &c. &c. Some magnificent prints are brought forward; a set of splendid silver medallions of sacred history are examined and admired; some ancient coins and inscriptions are submitted to the inspection of the unlearned; the last English reviews are brought under discussion.
In the mean time the gentlemen are lounging upon ottomans about a large marble table, the host going from one to another, speaking to and trying to please all. To the sportsman he speaks of his gun, to the chaplain of a project of building a new church, to the engineer of the aërial steam-ship, and, in short, makes every one pleased both with himself and his neighbours. I need hardly tell you that our commissioner at Cuttack is a most agreeable man; his great object is to make others happy, and his kind good-natured face is welcome everywhere. He is about thirty-six years of age, fond of sporting, fond of reading, fond of children—although he has none himself. Every one likes him, from the judge to the faquer, from the highest to the lowest—unless, indeed, the lawless, and those he does not spare. He has the grand tact of rendering himself agreeable to everybody, and the means by which he does this is the exercise of a kind heart. He does not obtrude his concerns, but listens patiently and with interest to the remarks of others; and this, remember, with cheerfulness and pure morality, is the means by which any person may make himself beloved.
But to return: the conversation turns upon church music.
"You have an organ, Commissioner, have you not?" says one.
"Yes, but I very seldom use it."
"You should send it to the church," said I.
"Well, I have sometimes thought I would, but I am afraid you have no place for it; and, besides, I don't know whether the tunes would do."
"Let us judge of that," says the magistrate; "give us a tune whilst they are putting the dinner on the table."