DIVANS.
| Nor ball, nor concert, nor theatre can boast, With all their frippery and senseless fun; Nor broiling taverns, when they shine the most, By hot unruly spirits overrun;— In dance, or song, or drunken laugh, and toast, With elegance and comfort, cheaply won,— To cheer the spirits and to refine the man: Hail! books and mocha,—cigars and the divan! |
It is with feelings of pleasure we have remarked of late years the change that has gradually taken place in regard to places of public nightly amusement. Formerly, the metropolis had no other allurements than were comprised in the theatre or the tavern,—the former of these being but too frequently a precursor to the latter; and that latter, in its turn, among young men in general, to scenes of a worse, and, in the end, more fatal description. As a preventative in a great degree to the above incentives to dissipation, must we welcome the appearance of divans amongst us, forming, as they do, in their quiet and elegant seclusion, a pleasing and intellectual contrast to their more boisterous contemporaries. Divan, or more properly speaking, Diwan, by some writers is said to be of eastern origin, and the plural of diw, a devil. The appellation, says a Persian lexicographer, was first bestowed by a sovereign of Persia, who, on observing his crafty counsellors in high conclave, exclaimed, Inan diwan end—“these men are devils.” Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur, may be pertinently applied, in this instance, to the councils of more sovereigns than those of Ispahan. Another derivation, and a more probable one, perhaps, is the Turkish word for sopha,—a luxury abundantly supplied in every divan in Turkey. In that country it is a chamber of council held by the Grand Seignior, his pashas, or other high tributaries, in which all the councillors assembled smoke their chibouques during the debate in all the sedate pomp of eastern magnificence. The interiors of these divans are represented by travellers as superbly grand, falling little short of the far-famed description of their harems. Coffee, it must be remarked, is the common beverage used by the Turks whilst smoking, and is commonly handed round with little or no milk or sugar, in small china cups. Taken thus, perhaps, nothing harmonizes with smoking so well on the palate; as the Rev. Dr. Walsh says, in his Travels in Turkey, speaking of tobacco, and in whose judicious remarks we cannot but concur, “I do not wonder at the general use of this most indispensable of Turkish luxuries; it is always the companion of coffee (mocha), and there is something so exceedingly congenial in the properties of both, that nature seems to have intended them for inseparable associates. We do not know how to use tobacco in this country, but defile and deteriorate it with malt liquor. When used with coffee, and after the Turkish fashion, it is singularly grateful to the taste, and refreshing to the spirits; counteracting the effects of fatigue and cold, and appeasing the cravings of hunger, as I have experienced.”
The popularity of divans in England may be best known by the rapid increase of their numbers since their first adoption here.
At the present period there are no less than six popular divans (independent of several obscure ones) in London.
These are,—
The Oriental Divan, Regent-street.
The Private Subscription Divan, Pall Mall.
The Royal City Divan, St. Paul’s Churchyard.
The Royal Divan, King-street, Covent Garden.
The Royal Divan, Strand.
The Divan, Charing Cross.
The whole of these divans are fitted up in a style of Asiatic splendour and comfort, that produces to the uncultivated eye a very novel and pleasing effect; while, upon a closer examination, the other senses are no less delighted.
The Journals of every nation in Europe are a general attraction to linguists and foreigners, while the cream of our own ever fertile press leaves the English reader nothing to wish for in the way of literature. Indeed, no means of entertainment are found wanting at these delightful soirées; chess invites the player, pictures the eye, and occasional music the ear; while lounging on a sopha with a cigar in the mouth, the gazer might almost fancy himself in the land of the crescent.
The divans in Regent-street and Pall Mall, are considered the most oriental of any in town, though the saloon in the Strand is perhaps the largest.