We dined, that afternoon, in the Long Room of the
"Ship" Inn, and afterwards danced the night through in the Town Hall.
The Major danced famously. Above all things, he prided himself on
being a ladies' man, and the fair sex (as he always called them)
admired him without disguise. His manner towards them was gallant
yet deferential, tender yet manly. He conceded everything to their
weakness; yet no man in Troy could treat a woman with greater
plainness of speech. The confirmed spinsters (high and low, rich and
poor, we counted seventy-three of them in Troy) seemed to like him
none the less because he lost no occasion, public or private, of
commending wedlock. For the doctrine of Mr. Malthus (recently
promoted to a Professorship at the East India College) he had a
robust contempt. He openly regretted that, owing to the negligence
of our forefathers, the outbreak of war found Great Britain with but
fifteen million inhabitants to match against twenty-five million
Frenchmen. _They_ threatened to invade _us_, whereas _we_ should
rather have been in a position to march on Paris! He asked nothing
better. He quoted with sardonic emphasis the remark of a politician
that "'twas hardly worth while to go to war merely to prove that we
could put ourselves in a good posture for defence."
"If I had my way," announced Major Hymen, "every woman in England
should have a dozen children at least.
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