Two or three years ago, while visiting a dear friend in the country, in a neighborhood where I knew many of the people, my friend proposed to invite in my acquaintances for an evening's chat. I replied that I should be most happy, should feel myself honored, but could not consent to such a gathering on my account if there was to be any eating. Mrs. L. was already overwhelmed with cares; if these were to be increased by the re-union, I should be obliged to decline; besides, on principle I was opposed to evening suppers. Mrs. L. couldn't think of such an omission for a moment, it would be the talk of the town for months; but I insisted, and finally she consented if I would take the responsibility, and explain it to the company. I did explain it, and gave my reasons for it. Most of them thought it was the right thing to do, several wished with all their hearts that the practice could become general, but one embryotic clergyman said he thought it well enough, perhaps, but it was pleasant, and he did not think it hurtful, to take refreshments in the evening; since that time, however, under the lash of dyspepsia, he has changed his opinion. If people have beautiful homes and wealth, and desire to make the party a _recherche_ affair, are there not professional players, singers, actors, readers, florists etc., etc.? Something grand could be given for half the expense of an elaborate supper. I need hardly hint to bright people of a less pretentious class, that social singing, dancing, charades, and a hundred beautiful games are all open to them. These are ten-fold more enjoyable than the more stately methods of the rich. The time will soon come when people of really fine culture will not think of giving their guests a late supper; indeed, of the twenty most intellectual and refined homes to which I have been invited in America and Europe, not one gave any refreshments at an evening party, with perhaps the exception of wine in France, and lemonade in this country. If people have no brains, but have good stomachs, then I advise eating on all occasions; in fact it is the only thing left. Such people may have already eaten three meals, but when they assemble in the evening at a sociable, they had better feed again, and feed hearty; what else is there to do? They can't sit and stare at each other by the hour, and it wouldn't be good manners to lie down on the floor and go to sleep. After they finish the more substantial meats and things, they can fill up the rest of the evening with nuts, doughnuts, apples, cider, and other trifling things. But if people happen to have a love of music, paintings, conversation, (the finest of the fine arts,) bright games, charades, dramatics, or any other of twenty amusements; if they happen to have a love for anything above cold pork, then I advise them, when assembled in a social way, to give their brains a chance, and not stuff their stomachs; the former is human, the latter is piggish.