EDUCATION.
Nopeople in the universe expend larger sums upon the education of their children than people of Fashion. It is a maxim with them to commence the great business of instruction in the very earliest period of life; and if the system of education corresponded with the pains bestowed upon it, and the price at which it is purchased, no persons would do more honour to society than the subjects of the Fashionable World. As it is, they are not a little ornamental to a nation. They are not, it istrue, either the columns or the base of the building; they neither support nor strengthen it: but they supply the place of reliefs, and hangings, and other superadded decorations.
Religion is allowed a respectable place among the studies of the nursery. All those useful tables of instruction are assiduously employed, which teach, who was thefirst, thewisest, themeekest, and thestrongestman; and the nursling is carefully conducted, by a catechetical process, into the theory and practice of a Christian. As, however, the child advances to boyish or girlish years, this religious discipline is pretty generally relaxed, in order to allow sufficient scope for the cultivation of thosemodish pursuits, which mark the man and the woman of Fashion.
And here I cannot help remarking, how anxious the greater part of Fashionable parents are, to guard the minds of their children against thepermanentinfluence of that religion, which they yet have caused them to be taught. The fact is, that they would have them acquainted with the technical language, and expert in the liturgical formalities of Christianity; for these acquirements can neither disparage their character, nor impede their pleasures: but a serious impression of its truths upon their hearts, might disaffect them to the follies and vices which they are destined to practise; and therefore is the thing, of allothers, that is most to be dreaded. The parents are, to say the truth, not a little hampered by the engagements under which they have bound the child, on the one part; and the character which they wish him to sustain, on the other. To leave him in ignorance of a covenant in which he has been involuntarily included, would be a fraud upon his conscience; and yet, to have him renounce the devil, the world, and the flesh, would be the utter ruin of his Fashionable reputation. What other course, then, can parents thus circumstanced pursue, than that of inculcating these lessons before they can be understood, and removing their impression before they can be practised?
It is, I presume, upon the principle of precaution already mentioned, that our Fashionable young men are not always intrusted to the care of persons distinguished for the practice of piety. It is not impossible, indeed, that, either from the conversation, the connexions, or the example of the preceptor, the pupil may contract certain habits, which it was not the precise object of his education to produce. But then the evil is not so great as fastidious moralists would insinuate. For, as the youth is to figure in the circles of Fashion, he will only have learnt, a little before the time, those practices which are to form a part of his manly character: and though it might, perhaps, be as well, if he did not learn to swear and rake quite so soon; yetit is some consolation, that he has escaped those methodistical impressions, which would have prevented him from swearing and raking as long as he lived.
It may also be considered as some confirmation of the reasoning above employed, that parents introduce their children as early as possible to the amusements of the theatre. Now, though swearing, and raking, and gaming, when carried to excess, are blamed even by persons of Fashion themselves; yet it is notorious, that a reasonable proportion of each is indispensably requisite to a popular character in the circles of refinement. Habits of this sort must not be precipitately taken up. There must be a schooling for the man of pleasure, aswell as for the man of letters: and certainly no school exists, in which the elements of modish vice can be studied with greater promise of proficiency, than the public theatres. When it is considered, at what pains the managers of the stage are, to import the seducing dramas of Germany, as well as to get up the loose productions of the English Muse; when it is further considered, how studious the actors and actresses are to do justice, and even more than justice, to the luscious scenes of the piece; to give effect to the equivoques, by an arch emphasis; and to the oaths, by a dauntless intonation:—when to all this is added, how many painted strumpets are stuck about the theatre, in the boxes, the galleries, and the avenues; and how many challenges toprostitution are thrown out in every direction: it will, I think, be difficult to imagine places better adapted, than the theatres at this moment are, to teach the theory and practice of Fashionable iniquity.
What has been observed on the subject of education, though said principally with reference to the male branches of Fashionable families, will yet, with a few changes, be found applicable to the youth of the other sex. The principal points upon which their scheme of education is brought to bear, are those of dissipation and display. A brilliant finger on the piano, wanton flexions in the dance, a rage for operas, plays, and parties, and the faculty of undergoing the fatiguing evolutionsof a Fashionable life, without compunction of conscience, sense of weariness, or indications of disgust, are qualifications which she who has acquired, will be considered as wanting little of a perfect education.
The same assiduity is discovered on the part of the parents, to train their girls for the sphere of polite life, as has been already observed with respect to the boys; and the methods that are pursued to accomplish this end, are very nearly the same. The blush of virgin-modesty (it is naturally foreseen) would be extremely inconvenient, not to say absolutely indecorous, in a woman of Fashion; and therefore it is wisely resolved, that such steps shall be taken uponthe girl’s growing into life, as may most effectually destroy it. The theatre seems principally to be resorted to for this purpose; and it must be manifest, from what has been already advanced, that no expedient could have been better chosen. As intrigue is the life of the drama, and this cannot be carried on, without expressions, attitudes, and communications between the sexes, of a very particular nature, there is every reason for regarding the stage as a sovereign remedy for the infirmity ofblushing.
There are other things to be said on behalf of the theatre, as a school of polite morality.
It has already appeared, that the system of Ethics which prevails among people of Fashion, differs materially from the received system of unfashionable Christians. Now, I know not any means by which a stranger, anxious to ascertain, wherein that difference consists, could better satisfy his enquiries, than by visiting the theatres. The doctrine of the stage, therefore, exhibiting (as nearly as possible) the standard morality of polite society, nothing could be better imagined, than to give the embryo woman of Fashion the earliest opportunity of learning to so much advantage, those lessons which she is afterwards to practise through life. What she has imbibed in the nursery, and what she hears in the church, would inspire her with a dread—perhaps a dislike—of manythings upon which she must learn hereafter to look with familiar indifference, if not with absolute complacency. She might thus (if some remedy were not provided) be led to take up with certain melancholy principles, which would either shut her out from the society of her friends, or make her miserable among them. But the stage corrects all this; and more than counterbalances the impressions of virtue, by stratagems of the happiest contrivance.
It is worthy of attention, how much ingenuity is displayed in bringing about that moral temperament, which is necessary for the meridian of Fashion. The rake, who is debauching innocence, squandering awayproperty, and extending the influence of licentiousness to the utmost of his power, would (if fairly represented) excite spontaneous and universal abhorrence. But this result would be extremely inconvenient; since raking, seduction, and prodigality, make half the business, and almost all the reputation, of men of Fashion. What, then, must be done?—Some qualities of acknowledged excellence must be associated with these vicious propensities, in order to prevent them from occasioning unmingled disgust. We may, I presume, refer it to the same policy, that in dramas of the greatest popularity, the worthless libertine is represented as having at the bottom some of those properties which reflect most honour upon human nature;while—as if to throw the balance still more in favour of vice—the man of professed virtue is delineated as being in the main a sneaking and hypocritical villain. Lessons such as these are not likely to be lost upon the ingenuous feelings of a young girl. For, besides the fascinations of an elegant address and an artful manner, the whole conduct of the plot is an insidious appeal to the simplicity of her heart. She is taught to believe, by these representations, that profligacy is the exuberance of a generous nature, and decorum the veil of a bad heart: so that having learnt, in the outset of her career, to associate frankness with vice, and duplicity with virtue, she will not be likely to separate thesecombinations during the remainder of her life.
To enter further into the minute details of a Fashionable education, would only be to travel over ground which has been often and ingeniously explored by writers of the greatest eminence. Enough has been said to show, that the system of education adopted by this people, like every other branch of their economy, is adapted to qualify the parties for that polite intercourse with each other, which seems to constitute the very end of their being. And if it be considered, of what nature that intercourse is, it will occasion no surprise, that the education which prepares for it should be expressly adaptedto confound the distinctions of virtue and vice; and to inculcate, with that view,—duplicity in religion, and prevarication in morals.
MANNERS—LANGUAGE.
TheMannersof this people are remarkably artificial. They appear to do every thing by rule; and not a word, a look, or a movement escapes them, but what has at one time or other been studied. In every part of their demeanour they have reference to some invisible standard, which they call theTon, or the Fashion, (from which latter term they have derived their appellation;) and by this mysterious talisman their manners, their dress, their language, and thewhole of their behaviour, are tried. It is singular enough, that this standard which is to fix every thing, is itself the most variable of all things. The changes which it undergoes are so rapid, that it requires a sort of telegraphic communication to become acquainted with them: and though there is no regular way by which they may be known, yet nothing is considered so disgraceful as not to know them.
The fluctuations to which this standard is subject, render it difficult to catch the features of people of Fashion, or to speak with any precision upon the exterior of their character. They are, in fact, moulded and modified by such capricious and indefinable circumstances, that he who wouldexhibit a true picture of their manners, must write a history of the endless transmutations through which they are compelled to pass. It has, indeed, been remarked by nice observers, that a dissimulation of their sentiments and their feelings, is a feature in the character of this people, which never forsakes them; and that amidst all the revolutions which their other habits experience, this master-principle preserves an unchanging uniformity. Nor is it sufficient to overthrow this reasoning, that, among the innovations of recent times, the manners of people of Fashion have been brought into an affected resemblance to those of their inferiors. The cropped head, and groomish dress of the men, and the noisy tone and vulgar air of the women, would almost persuadea stranger that these are blunt and artless people, and that they love nothing so much as honesty and plain-dealing. The fact, however, is, that though the mode of playing is varied, yet the game of dissimulation is still going on. This condescension to vulgarity is, after all, the disguise of pride, and not the dress of simplicity; and is as remote from the sincerity which it imitates, as from the refinement which it renounces.
An exaggerated opinion of their own importance is, in reality, a prevailing characteristic of the Fashionable World.
The Greeks and Romans were thought to have gone too far, when they called allnations but their ownbarbarians; but people of Fashion go a step farther: for they consider themselvesevery body, and the rest of the worldnobody. The influence of this sentiment is sufficiently discernible over the whole of their character. It dictates to their affections, and robs them, in many instances, of their spontaneity, their sweetness, and their force. It results from this conceit, that their love is often artificial, their friendship ceremonious, and their charity ungracious. In a word, the whole of their demeanour is such as might be expected from a people, who idolize the most frivolous or the most vicious propensities of human nature; and estimate asnothing, the talents, and industry, and virtue, which adorn it.
TheirLanguagewould afford great scope for discussion; but the limits which I have prescribed to my work, will not allow me to embrace it. I shall, however, throw together such remarks as may enable the reader to form some judgment of it; and refer him, for more extended information upon it, to those modish compositions in which it is conveyed, and to the circles in which it is spoken.
Theirlanguage, then, is generally a dialect of the people among whom they reside. They do, it is true, intersperse their conversational dialogue with scraps of French and Italian; they also construct their complimentary phrases with singular dexterity; they have, besides, certain epithets;such asdashing,stylish, &c. which may be considered as perfectly their own:—but if these be excepted, the rest of their language is, to the best of my judgment, wholly vernacular.
It must not, however, be supposed, that because these people use the terms of the country in which they live, they therefore use them in their ordinary and received acceptation. Nothing can be farther from the fact. I verily believe, that if the whole nomenclature of Fashion were examined from beginning to end, scarcely twenty words would be found, which in passing over to the regions of Fashion, have not left their native and customary sense behind them.
In support of this observation I shall cite, for the reader’s satisfaction, a brief extract from a private memorandum, which I had originally made with a design of constructing a Fashionable glossary.
Vernacular Terms.
Fashionable Sense.
Age
An infirmity which nobody owns.
Buying
Ordering goods without present purpose of payment.
Conscience
Something to swear by.
Courage
Fear of man.
Cowardice
Fear of God.
Day
Night.
Debt
A necessary evil.
Decency
Keeping up appearances.
Dinner
Supper.
Dressed
Half-naked.
Duty
Doing as other people do.
Economy
(Obsolete.)
Enthusiasm
Religion in earnest.
Fortune
The chief-good.
Friend
(Meaning not known.)
Home
Every body’s house but one’s own.
Honour
The modern Moloch, worshipped with licentious rites and human victims.
Knowing
Expert in folly and vice.
Life
Destruction of body and soul.
Love
(Meaning not known.)
Modest
Sheepish.
New
Delightful.
Night
Day.
Nonsense
Polite conversation.
Old
Insufferable.
Pay
Only applied to visits.
Play
Serious work.
Protection
Keeping a mistress.
Religion
Occupying a seat in some church or chapel.
Spirit
Contempt of decorum and conscience.
Style
Splendid extravagance.
Thing (the)
Any thing but what a man should be.
Time
Only regarded in music and dancing.
Truth
(Meaning uncertain).
Virtue
Any agreeable quality.
Vice
Only applied to servants and horses.
Undress
Complete clothing.
Wicked
Irresistibly agreeable.
Work
A vulgarism.
I am far from pretending to have assigned the precise significations in which the words above cited are employed by people of Fashion. Perhaps I have done as much towards fixing the sense, as will be expected of one who cannot pretend to be perfectly in their confidence. In fact, the transmutation of terms is an operation to which this people are most devoutly addicted. It isdaily making some advances among them; and keeps pace with the progress of their ideas, from the correct and authentic notions of truth and virtue, to those loose and spurious ones by which they are superseded.
In proof of this statement, I need only adduce those phrases in which they are accustomed to pronounce the eulogium of their deceased associates.
For example,—Is reference made to an unthinking profligate who has lately been hurried from the world? His vices are glanced at, and cursorily condemned: but still it is affirmed, that, with all his faults, he alwaysmeant well; he hada good heartat the bottom; and he wasnobody’s enemy but his own.
And for whom is this apology offered, and this praise indirectly solicited? For the man who, if he ever meant any thing, meant nothing more or better, than to gratify his lusts, pursue his vicious pleasures, drink his wine, shake his dice, shuffle his cards; and thus waste his existence, and destroy his soul. Of such a man it is gravely affirmed, that—he always meant well.
And of whom is it said, that he hada good heart?—Of the man who rarely manifested, through the whole of his life, any other symptoms than those whichindicate a bad one. His mouth was full of cursing and bitterness; his humour was choleric and revengeful; his feet moved swift to shed blood; there was no conscience in his bosom, and no fear of God before his eyes; and yet, because he was occasionally charitable, and habitually convivial, no doubt is entertained but that—he had a good heart at the bottom.
Lastly,heis said to have beennobody’s enemy but his own, who has wasted the earnings of an industrious ancestor, and bequeathed beggary and shame to his innocent descendants. The wretch has distressed his family by his prodigality, and corrupted thousands by his example; and yet, because he has been the dupe of his lusts,and fallen a martyr to his vices, he is pronounced to have been—nobody’s enemy but his own.
These instances will serve to throw some light upon the sort of idiom employed by people of Fashion; and the manner in which they have wrested expressions of no little importance, from their natural and legitimate signification.
But before I quit the consideration of theirlanguage, I think it my duty to point out another peculiarity; of which, to the best of my knowledge, no satisfactory account has yet been given. Whether it arise from the paucity of their words, the confusion of their ideas, or any other causedistinct from each of these, so it is, that they have butoneterm by which they are accustomed to express their strong emotions both of pleasure and pain. On thistermyou will find them ringing perpetual changes; and, strange to say, it is to be heard, under one or other of its grammatical inflections,[104]in almost every sentence which falls from their lips. The master has recourse to it in scolding his servants, the officer in reprimanding his men. Thetraveller employs it in recounting his adventures, and the man of pleasure in describing his intrigues. It is heard in the house, and in the field; in moments of seriousness, and of levity; in expressions of praise, and of blame. In short, it is used on occasions the most dissimilar, under impressions the most contradictory, and for purposes the most opposite; and is, in fact, thesine quâ nonof every energetic and emphatical period.
Now it happens, unfortunately, that thiscatholiconin Fashionable phraseology is, of all terms, that to which sober Christians annex the most awful ideas; and from the use of which they as scrupulously abstain, as they do from that of the Great Beingwhose vengeance it so tremendously expresses. And it may be worthy of consideration, whether this familiar and unfeeling employment, by people of Fashion, of a term which importsinfernal punishment, does not strengthen those doubts which have been already suggested, of their real belief in a place of future torment.
It ought not at the same time to be overlooked, that, in this respect, they bear a close resemblance to the vulgarest part of the community; and it would furnish a subject of curious investigation, why two classes in society, respectively the highest and the lowest, should exhibit so striking an agreement in a material branch of language.I know it has been said, that extremes meet; and the fact before us is so much proof that the remark is just: but that by no means solves the difficulty. For, after all, the question returns upon us,whysuch a fact should exist? I confess, for my own part, I know no answer that can be given to it; and I very much wish that some one of their number would undertake to explain their real motives for courting a resemblance inonerespect with that description of society, from which they make it their pride to differ in everyother.
DRESS—AMUSEMENTS.
Thereare, in theDressof this people, many singularities, upon which, he who wished to say every thing that could be said, might say a great deal. The peculiarity which a stranger would be most apt to remark, is that of their striving to be as unlike as possible to the rest of the world. This appears, indeed, to be the parent of almost every other peculiarity; and certainly gives birth to many changes not a little ridiculous and prejudicial.
It being a sort of fundamental maxim with them, that superiority consists in dissimilitude, they become engaged in a perpetual competition with the world at large, and to a certain degree with each other. In order to maintain this struggle for pre-eminence, they are compelled to vary the modes and materials of their dress in all the ways which a fanciful imagination can suggest. It happens, through some strange infatuation, that those who affect to despise the man or woman of Fashion, yet ape their dress and air with the most impertinent and vexatious perseverance. What is to be done in this case?—Similitude is not to be endured. In order therefore to throw out their pursuers, these monopolizers of the mode are compelled to run into such eccentricities,as nothing could justify or palliate, but the distress to which they are reduced. If, for example, short skirts and low capes are copied by the herd of imitators, the Fashionables seek their remedy in the opposite extreme; their skirts are drawn down to the calves of their legs, and their capes pulled over their ears with as much solemnity and dispatch, as if their existence depended upon the measure. So if full petticoats and high kerchiefs are adopted by the misses of the crowd, the dressing-chambers of Fashion are all bustle and confusion:—the limbs are stripped, and the bosom laid bare, though the east wind may be blowing at the time; and coughs, rheumatisms, and consumptions, be upon the wings of every blast.
This rage for dissimilitude in the affairs of thewardrobe, is allowed an indefinite scope. Unfortunately, as far as I can learn, there are no determinate points, beyond which it would be esteemed indecent or imprudent to indulge it. The consequence is, that thegroomand thegentlemanmay be often mistaken for each other; and he who is recognised to-day as aman of Fashion, may to-morrow be confounded withone of the people.
I confess I have always regarded this part of their conduct as an impeachment of their political wisdom. I should have thoughtà priori, that a people who are so jealous of their pre-eminence in society, would not have overlooked the degree inwhich dress contributes to uphold it. Many a Fashionable man must depend for the whole of his estimation, upon the cut of his coat, and the selection of his wardrobe. A frivolous or preposterous taste may therefore prove fatal to the only sort of reputation which it was in his power to obtain. But besides, an interchange of dress between people of Fashion and those whom they consider their inferiors, may eventually produce very serious mischiefs. The distinctions of rank and condition are manifestly matters of external regulation, and consequently cannot be kept up without a due attention to external appearances. He therefore who makes himself vulgar or ridiculous, is guilty of an act of self-degradation; and the fault will be his own, if he isdisplaced or despised; since he has renounced that appropriate costume, which proclaimed at once his station in society, and his determination to maintain it.
The fair-sex appear also on their part to set all limits and restraints at defiance. They seem to feel themselves at perfect liberty to follow the prevailing mode, whatever that mode may be. The consequence is, thatmodestyis often the last thing considered by the young, andproprietyas completely neglected by the old. And this latter circumstance may serve to account in some measure for the little respect which is said to be paid toagein the Fashionable World. To judge from the histories of all nations, it seems impossible, that lengthof days, if accompanied with those characteristics which denote and become it, should not excite spontaneous veneration. But if the shrivelled arm must be bound in ribbands and bracelets, if the withered limbs must be wrapped in muslins and gauzes, and the wrinkled face be decorated with ringlets and furbelows, the silly veteran waves the privilege of her years; and since she disgusts the grave, without captivating the gay, she must not be surprized if she meets with respect from neither.
A fondness foramusementsis one of the strongest characteristics of this people.—They may almost be said to live for little else. They pass the whole of that short day which they allow themselves, in makingarrangements for spending the ensuing night. Indeed, their preference of night to day is such, that they seem to consider the latter as having no other value than as it leads to the former, and affords an opportunity of preparing for its enjoyment. And hence I suppose it is, that such multitudes among them dine by candle-light, and go to bed by day-light.
This passion for diversions renders theSundayparticularly irksome to persons of any sort oftonin the Fashionable World. A dose of piety in the morning is well enough, though it is somewhat inconvenient to take it quite so early; but then it wants an opera, or a play, or a dance, to carry it off. There are indeed someesprit-fortsamong the ladies, who are trying with no little success to redeem a portion of the Sabbath from the insufferable bondage of the Bible and the sermon-book; and to naturalize that continental distribution of the day, which gives the morning to devotion, and the evening to dissipation. It is but justice to the gentlemen to say, that they discover no backwardness in supporting a measure so consonant to all their wishes. It is therefore not impossible that some considerable changes in this respect may soon be brought about. That good-humoured legislature which has allowed a Sunday newspaper,[116]will perhaps not always refusea Sunday opera, or play. People of Fashion will then no longer have to torturetheir invention for expedients to supply the absence of their diurnal diversions. They may then let their tradesmen go quietly to their parish-churches, instead of sending for them to wear away the sabbath-hours in some supervacaneous employment. In short, Sunday may be set at liberty from its primitive bondage, and exhibit as happy a union of morning solemnity and evening licentiousness, as it has ever displayed among the dissolute adherents of Fashionable Christianity.
But to return:—The rage for amusements[119]is so strong in this people, that it seems to supersede all exercise of judgmentin the choice and the conduct of them. To go every where, see every thing, and know every body, are, in their estimation, objects of such importance, that, in order to accomplish them, they subject themselves to the greatest inconveniences, and commit the very grossest absurdities. Hence they will rush in crowds, to shine where they cannot be seen, to dance where they cannot move, and to converse with friends whom theycannot approach; and, what is more, though they cannot breathe for the pressure, and can scarcely live for the heat, yet they call this—enjoyment.
Nor does this passion suffer any material abatement by the progress of time. Many veterans visit, to the last, the haunts of polite dissipation; they lend their countenance to those dramas of vanity in which they can no longer act a part; and show their incurable attachment to the pleasures of this world, by their unwillingness to decline them. The infirmities which attend upon the close of life are certainly designed to produce other habits; and it should seem, that when every thing announces an approaching dissolution, the amusements ofthe drawing-room might give place to the employments of the closet. Persons, however, of this description are of another mind; and as every difficulty on the score of teeth, hoariness, and wrinkles, can be removed by the happy expedients of ivory, hair-caps, and cosmetics, there is certainly nophysicalobjection to their continuing among their Fashionable acquaintance, till they are wanted in another world.
I cannot illustrate this part of my subject better than by presenting my readers with the following Ode on the Spring, supposed to have been written by a man of Fashion; it expresses, with so much exactness, the sentiments and taste of that extraordinary people, that it will stand in theplace of a thousand observations upon their character.
SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY A MAN OF FASHION.
I.
LO! where the party-giving dames,Fair Fashion’s train, appear;Disclose the long-expected games,And wake the modish year:The opera-warbler pours her throat,Responsive to the actor’s note,The dear-bought harmony of Spring;While, beaming pleasure as they fly,Bright flambeaus through the murky skyTheir welcome fragrance fling.
II.
Where’er the rout’s full myriads closeThe staircase and the door,Where’er thick files of belles and beausPerspire through ev’ry pore:Beside some faro-table’s brink,With me the Muse shallstandand think,(Hemm’d sweetly in by squeeze of state,)How vast the comfort of the crowd,How condescending are the proud,How happy are the great!
III.
Still is the toiling hand of Care,The drays and hacks repose;But, hark, how through the vacant airThe rattling clamour glows!The wanton Miss and rakish Blade,Eager to join the masquerade,Through streets and squares pursue their fun:Home in the dusk some bashful skim;Some, ling’ring late, their motley trimExhibit to the sun.
IV.
To Dissipation’s playful eye,Such is the life for man;And they that halt, and they that fly,Should have no other plan:Alike the busy and the gayShould sport all night till break of day,In Fashion’s varying colours drest;Till seiz’d for debt through rude mischance,Or chill’d by age, they leave the dance,In gaol or dust—to rest.
V.
Methinks I hear, in accents low,Some sober quiz reply,Poor child of Folly! what art thou?A Bond-Street Butterfly!Thy choice nor Health nor Nature greets,No taste hast thou of vernal sweets,Enslav’d by noise, and dress, and play:Ere thou art to the country flown,The sun will scorch, the Spring be gone,—Then leave the town in May.
HAPPINESS OF THE PEOPLE ESTIMATED.
Itrustmy reader is by this time sufficiently acquainted with the general outline of Fashionable life: it would only be accumulating observations unnecessarily to enter further into the subject: I shall therefore devote the present chapter to a brief investigation of the state of happiness among a people who, it must be observed, claim to be considered—thehappiest of their species.
Happiness is, as moralists agree, a relativeexpression; and indicates the excess of the aggregate of good over that of evil in any given condition. The foundation of happiness therefore must be traced to the ideas which those, upon whose condition the question turns, are accustomed to entertain, of good and evil. So that if we wished to ascertain the amount of happiness in a life of Fashion, we must make our calculation out of those things, which constitute respectively good and evil in a Fashionable estimation. I have had occasion to observe before, that a Fashionable life is a life of sense; consequently all the sources of happiness in such a condition must be confined to the pleasures of sense. Now, it must be considered, that the pains of sense are at least as numerous as its pleasures;and that, by a law of Providence subject to very few exceptions, those who will have the one, must take their proportion of the other with them.
This observation is abundantly confirmed by what occurs in the experience of the parties under consideration. The pleasures which men of Fashion derive from the gratification of their animal appetites at the table, the gaming-house, and the brothel, have a very ample set-off in the inconveniences which they suffer from arthritic, nervous, and a thousand other, painful and retributive complaints. Nor are the gay and dissipated of the other sex exempted from the same contingency of constitutional suffering. Beside the common lot of humannature, they have a class of evils of their own procuring; and, by excesses as imprudent as they are immoral, they bring upon themselves a variety of diseases, for which neither a name nor a remedy can be found. There are those, it is true, who avoid much of this inconvenience, by mixing some discretion with their folly, and setting some bounds to their favourite gratifications: but then it is to be remembered, that these are restraints which render persons of licentious minds singularly uneasy; and they may therefore be considered as administering to pain, nearly in proportion as they abridge indulgence.
But supposing that we were to throw these severer items out of the calculation:there would still remain evils enough in a Fashionable condition, to keep the scale from preponderating on the side of pleasure. To shine in a ball-room, is, no doubt, a high satisfaction; but then to be outshone by another, (which is just as likely to happen,) is at least as great a mortification: to be invited tomanymodish parties, is really delightful; but then to know those who are invited tomorethan ourselves, is certainly vexatious: to find one’s-self surrounded by people of the first Fashion, is charming; but then to be dying with heat all the time, is something in the opposite scale; to wear a coat or a head-dress of the newest invention, is indeed a pleasure of the highest order; but then to see, by accident, articles of the same mode on the back of a man-milliner,or the head of a lady’s maid, is a species of vexation not easily endured. An opera, a play, a party, a night passed at a dance, or at a cassino, or a faro-table, are all events, to be sure, of the happiest occurrence; but then, to be disappointed ofone, makes a deeper impression on the side of pain, than to be gratified withthree, does on that of pleasure: and disappointments will happen, where many objects are pursued, and where the concurrence of many instruments is necessary to their accomplishment. A drunken coachman, a broken pannel, a sick horse, a saucy footman, a mistaken message, a dull play, indifferent company, a head-ach, a heart-burn, an epidemical disease, or the dread of it, a death in the family, Sunday, Fast-day, Passionweek, and a thousand other provoking casualties, either deprive these entertainments of their power of pleasing, or even set them wholly aside. I should only weary my reader were I to lay before him in detail half the catalogue of those minor distresses which embarrass the idea of a modish life: he must however perceive, from the little which has been said, that every pleasure has its countervailing pain; and that every sacrifice to diversion and splendour has its correspondent chastisement in vexation and disgrace.
Hitherto those principles have been assumed as the basis of calculation, upon which people of Fashion havesomeadvantages in their favour; but there is anotherground upon which (to say the whole truth) it ought to be put, and on which all the advantages areagainstthem.
Man (it is notorious) is a reflecting being; and, do what he will, hemustreflect. He may choose anhabitualcareer of sense; but still he must have, whether he seek or shun them, moments ofReflection. This is I admit, extremely inconvenient; but then it is without a remedy. My business, however, is, neither to impugn, nor to vindicate the existence of such a principle; but to show its bearings upon the sort of life which people of Fashion must necessarily lead. Not to enter into particulars, what can constitute a heavier affliction, than for a man of Fashion (or, which is the same thing, a manof the world) to be obliged to think over again the events of his licentious career? To be persecuted with recollecting the property he has squandered, the wine he has drunk, the seduction he has practised, and the duels he has fought? These things were well enough at the time; they had their humour and their reputation, and they were not without their pleasure: but then they were designed to beacted, and notreflectedupon. The woman of Fashion is under the same law, and is therefore exposed to the same mental torments. She, too, must trace back (though she would give the world to be excused) the steps she has trodden in the enchanting walks of dissipation. She must live over again every portion of a life which, though too fascinatingto be declined, is yet too shocking to be thought of. Her memory, also, must be haunted with frightful scenes, which remind her, at the expence of how much health, and property, and time, and virtue, she has sustained the figure which made her so talked of, and the gaieties which rendered her so happy. Now these are real afflictions; and thatReflectionfrom which they result is, not without reason, felt and acknowledged as the scourge of their existence, by the ingenuous part, at least, of the Fashionable World.
Many expedients have indeed been suggested for laying this busy principle asleep, and many plans struck out for rendering its pangs supportable; but hitherto withoutsuccess. For though it has been proposed to laugh it away, dance it away, drink it away, or travel it away; yet not one of these projects has answered the end: and Fashionable casuists are as far as ever from finding out a remedy of sufficient potency, to cure, or even abate, in any material degree, the pains of Reflection.
And here I cannot but remark, how grievously the seat of this disease (for such it is considered) has been mistaken by those who have so lightly undertaken to prescribe for its removal. They have manifestly considered it as a disorder of thenerves; and hence all the remedies which they have recommended, are calculated to promote,either by change of scene, or by some other mechanical impulse, a brisker circulation of the animal spirits. The ill success with which each has been attended, sufficiently proclaims the fallacy upon which they all are founded. If Reflection had been only a nervous disturbance, if it had arisen out of any disarrangement of theanimaleconomy, some, at least, of the Fashionable nostrums would have dispersed the complaint: whereas it is notorious, that, under every regimen which has been tried, while the stronger symptoms have disappeared, the disorder has remained in the system; and neither Bath, nor Weymouth, nor Tunbridge, nor Town, has ever effected a cure.
The plain truth is, (whatever may be insinuatedto the contrary by theseMédecins à-la-mode,) that the disease is altogethermoral; and, consequently, the seat of it is not in the nerves, but in theConscience. There is, in fact, nothing new in the complaint: it is inseparably connected with a Fashionable career; and has been more or less the scourge of all, in every age, who have declined the duties which they owe “to God and their inferiors.” I take it to have been a malady of the very same description which afflicted Herod in his communication with the Baptist, and which made Felix tremble under the reasoning of Paul. It is not a little remarkable, that both these men of Fashion (for such no doubt they were) fell into the error which has been condemned, in the treatment oftheir disease; and each, there is reason to believe, carried it with him to his grave.
If my reader now adverts to the particulars which have been stated, he will be compelled to draw conclusions not a little humbling to the lofty pretensions of a Fashionable life. In few states of society, under its present imperfection, is happiness very high: and it might not perhaps be easy to assign the particular condition which embraces it in the greatest proportion. But surely after the discoveries which this discussion has made, we run no risk in affirming, that a life of Fashion isnotthat condition. The lot of mankind would be wretched indeed, if those werethe happiest of the species, who, without exemptionfrom the pains of sense, are excluded from the pleasures of Reflection: and who, as the price of enjoyments derived from theone, become subject to the chastisement inflicted byboth.
DEFECT OF THE SYSTEM—PLANS OF REFORM—CONCLUSION.
Asystemwhich does so little for the happiness of its members, as that which has been unfolded in the course of this work, must have some radical defect; and it is worthy of consideration, whether some steps should not be speedily taken, in order to discover the nature of that defect, and to provide a competent remedy for it.
I am perfectly aware, that it would be most decorous, to let such a measure ofenquiry originate in the community to which it primarily relates; and if I thought there was any chance of the affair being taken up by the body, I should satisfy myself with having intimated the necessity of such a procedure, and leave the people of Fashion to reform themselves.
But I will honestly confess, that I see not at present any prospect of such an event. It has not, so far as I can understand, been hinted, in those assemblies which legislate for the body, that the system of Fashion requires any revision: nor can I discover, among the projected arrangements for future seasons, any thing like a committee of reform. There is, on the contrary, every reason to believe, thatdesigns of a very different nature occupy the minds of those who influence the community. I very much mistake, if it is not their intention, to carry the system more extensively into effect; to make still further conquests upon the puny domains of Wisdom and Virtue; and to evince, by new modes of dissipation and new excuses for adopting them, the endless perfectibility of Folly and Vice. Under such circumstances, it will scarcely be imputed to me as a trespass upon their privileges, if I venture to perform that office for them, which they are never likely to do for themselves.
I scruple not then to affirm, thatINCONSISTENCYis the radical fault of the Fashionable system. This truth is demonstratedby every thing that has been said upon their polity and laws, their religion and morals, their plans of education, and their institutes of life. Under every view which has been taken of this people, they have exhibited appearances truly paradoxical; and been found involved, from the beginning to the end of their career, in the most palpable and extraordinary contradictions. The fact indeed is, as their history has shown, that the principles upon which they act, are essentially at variance with each other; and the effect which these principles have upon their conduct and their feelings, is only such as might be expected, from an everlasting struggle for mastery among them. The hand of this people is given to Self-denial, but theirheart to Sensuality; and the manner in which they are obliged to equivocate with both, will not allow them the complete enjoyment of either. The libertinism they practise shows them nothing butthisworld, the piety they profess hides every thing from them but the world tocome: thus alternately impelled and restrained, deluded and undeceived, they follow what they love, and condemn what they follow: neither blind enough to be wholly led, nor discerning enough to see their path;—with too much religion to let them be happy here, and too little to make them so hereafter.
Now I see but two ways by which thisINCONSISTENCYcan be removed; and as Iwish to make my work of some use to the people of whom it treats, I shall briefly propose them in their order.
1. Thefirstplan ofmeliorationwhich I would submit to the Fashionable World, is that ofrenouncing the Christian religion. In recommending this step, I proceed upon a supposition, that the government and laws and manners which now prevail, mustat all eventsbe retained: and upon such a supposition, I contend, thatrenouncing the Christian religionis a measure of indispensable necessity. For surely if duels must be fought, what can be so preposterous as to swear allegiance to a law which says—“Thou shalt not kill?” If injuries mustnotbe forgiven, where is the propriety ofemploying a prayer in which the petitioner declares, that he does forgive them? If the passions are to begratified, what end is answered by doing homage to those Scriptures which so peremptorily declare, that they must bemortified? In a word, if swearing, prevarication, and sensuality; if a neglect of “the duties to God and inferiors,” be necessary, or even allowable, parts of a Fashionable character; where is the policy, the virtue, or even the decency, of connecting it with a religion which stamps these several qualities with the deepest guilt, and threatens them with the severest retribution? If a religion ofsomesort be absolutely necessary, let such an one be chosen as may possess a correspondence with the other parts of the system: let it be a religion inwhich pride, and resentment, and lust, may have their necessary scope; a religion, in short, in which the God of this world may be the idol, and the men of this world the worshippers. Such an arrangement will go a great way towards establishingconsistency: it will dissolve a union by which both parties are sufferers; and liberate at once the people of Fashion from a profession which involves them in contradiction, and Christianity from a connexion which covers her with disgrace.
2. If, on the contrary, it should be thought material (as I trust it will)to retain Christianity at all events, the plan of reform must be exactlyinverted; and the sacrifices taken from those laws, and maxims, andhabits, which interfere with the spirit and the injunctions of that holy religion. It is altogether out of the character of Christianity to act a subservient or an accommodating part. Her nature, her office, and her object, are all decidedly adverse to that base alliance into which it has been attempted to degrade her. Pure and spotless as her native skies, she delights in holiness; because God, from whose bosom she came, is holy. Girt with power, and designed for dominion, she claims the heart as her throne, and all the affections as the ministers of her will: nor does she consider her object accomplished until she has cast down every lofty imagination, extinguished every rebellious lust, and brought into captivity every thought to the obedienceof Christ. It is obvious, therefore, that if she is to be retained at all, it must be upon herownterms; and those terms will manifestly require an utter renunciation of every measure which, under the former plan, it was proposed to retain. Duels mustnowno longer be fought, nor injuries resentfully pursued, nor licentious passions deliberately gratified. Swearing must be banished from the lips, prevarication from the thoughts, sensuality from the heart; and that law be expunged, which dispenses with “the duties to God and inferiors,” in order to make way for that immutable statute which enjoins them.
It must not be dissembled, that, in the progress of such a reform, certain inconvenienceswill be unavoidably encountered; but these will be speedily and effectually compensated by an influx of real and permanent advantages. The pangs which accompanied the “death unto sin,” will soon be forgotten in the pleasures which result from a “life unto righteousness;” and the peace and hope which abound in the way, will efface the recollection of those agonistic efforts by which it was entered.
In the mean time, all things will be done with decency and order. The whole economy of life and conduct will be scrupulously consulted; and such arrangements introduced, as will make the several parts and details correspond and harmonizewith each other. Duty and recreation will have their proper characters, and times, and places, and limits. Every thing, in short, will be preserved in the system, which can facilitate intercourse without impairing virtue; and nothing be struck out but what administers to vanity, duplicity, and vice.
Whether changes of such magnitude as those which I have described, will ever take place upon an extensive scale, I cannot pretend to conjecture; but certain I am, that, if ever they should, not only the Fashionable World, but society at large, will be very much the better for them. Greatly as I wish the “Reformation of Manners,” and “the Suppression of Vice,” I see insuperableobstacles to each of these events, while rank, and station, and wealth, throw their mighty influence into the opposite scale. Then—and not till then—will Christianity receive the homage she deserves, and produce the blessings she has promised—when “the makers of our manners” shall submit to her authority; and thePEOPLEofFashionbecome thePEOPLEofGod.