The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1869-05-27
Y}liseellameoas Artitles,
Social Amusements.


eftted by them less than the American
people. We live SO fast, we are in such a
desperate hurry to snatch all the worlds
good things before our neighbors, that
we have very little time to spare for nee
essary relaxation, and what recreation
we do not give ourselves reluctantly and
grudgingly is poisoned and ncutrallzed
by the restless impatence and geadlng
anxieties we carry into it. Indeed, prop
erly speaking, it can scarcely be said That
tho average American ever does take
any relaxation at all, or that he ever
loosens for an instant that tense strain OF
all his faculties whereby alone he con-
ceives it possible to mold on to the main
chance. The habit Of work has 80
grown upon him that he carries it into
his play perhaps that is the reason why
he is so often found dull boy, by many
whom he regards as very far from sharp.
Leisure, to his practical mind, is idlcness,
and idleness is the crying sin. The poets
creed that
"Merely to bask and ripen is sometimes
The students wiser business"
he neither sympathizes with nor under
stands. Life is short he knows, and
Jones' bank account is larger than his
own, and Robinson lives in brownstone
front while re must content himself with
brick one. So until these wrongs Of
fortune are rcdressed there is no rest tor
the palm of his hand or the sole of his
foot.
Some concession, OF course, he must
make to imperious nature. He takes
what he calls bis enjoyment in hasly
gulps, as he devours his dinner The val
uc of repose he is utterly unable to under
stand, and his pastimc is only change
ifrhe form of his labor. Whatever he
does he does with all his might; he plays
the piano like an animated trip.hammer,
and he dances lihe q tornado.
What is worse, this restless and fever
ish habit of mind and body indisposcs for
tho quiet and soothing joys of the family
circle which would be its most effective
antidote. In that pure, serene atmos-
phere he feels the same sort of oppression
which weighs upon one in the raretied air
ola mountain-top. That simple, uncvent-
full life pals upon and weares and mex
prcssbiy disgusts him. The fate Of the
opium eater is his, and that which was at
first the spice becomes at last the neces-
sity of his existence. In his business lie
is scarcely more independent than in his
pleasures of family ties, and, if he only
knew it, lie is almost as ignorant OF true
domestic happiness lis that traditional
Gaul whom he is constantly reviling and
initiating. The honest German who takes
his frau and his kinder to the Blergarten
represents a phase of family AFFECTION
Which he goes to see as curiosity. His
wife is at home, where she ought to be;
that she suffers at all from his absence,
that her life is made desolute and dreary,
her nature starved tor lack of the tender
ness and sweet fellowship he fails to give,
never for an Instant oct urs to him. He
tolls for her all day long, and SO proves
his love by his works; what more ought
she to requireY
The truth is that Americans are gre
garious, not socable. They love crowds,
but only because in crowd is the truest
solitude They are independent and self
reliant, and they expect their neighbors
to be likewise And their amusements
take tone and character from this unsocia-
blity and this morbid energy. Social
amuscments, properly speaking, we have
none. The only purpose we can think of
to Justify US in assembling our friends to-
gether is in order TO dance, or rather, to
indulge in that frantic whirl and scurry
which we miscall dancing. Now, dancing
is the least socable Of pastimes, and the
little is made still less by our way of man.
aging it. Connected conversation is not
easy during the gyrations of waltze !;
one is too busy securing new partners or
getting rid of old ones to think of talk
Ing at all. Two young people may have
dancing acquaintance Of several seasons
who have scarcely exchanged u dozen
sentences, and IN reality know each other
no better ut the end than at the begin
ming. The fact is that conversation is be-
coming lost art among us; and there
may be a more national Significance in
the election of silent President than
most of us imagine. Men talk and wo-
men talk among themselves; but as a
French author says, only from their mu-
tual InCefcOuTSo aIiSos tIuo con'oi oaG'iI.
And if society, which is the common
meeting ground of men and women, for
bids them to do anything but dance and
stand against walls, how long will it be
before we return 10 that primitive state
of social intercourse when conversation
was only dissertation, which we find rep
resented in Plato's Symposium and Cicero's
Amicitia. and which johnson and Cole.
ridge did their best to revive?
Dancing is very we'll in its way, but it
is just possible we do little too much of
it. Our only notion of party is dam
cling party. Ball, sociable, reception,
promenade concert, or company-by
whatever name society calls its festivals
they are still the same; and the hint
on dansera which one finds on invitations
| =. E,uono IL hnrn hnnIs ara ann OF I'M 90 in