There is a sort of half-way between town and the country, which some
assert combines the advantages, others the defects, of each; and this is
a country-town. Here, indeed, a little money, a little learning, and a
little fashion, will go ten times as far as they will in London. Here, a
man who takes in the Quarterly or Edinburgh, is a literary character;
the lady who has one head-dress in the year from a Bond-street milliner,
becomes the oracle of fashion, "the observed of all observers;" here
dinners are talked of as excellent, at which neither French dishes nor
French wines were given, and a little raspberry ice would confer wide
celebrity on an evening party, and excite much animadversion and
surprise. Here, notwithstanding a pretty strong line of demarcation
between the different sets of society, every one appears to know every
body; the countenances and names of each are familiar; we want no slave,
who calls out the names; but are ready with a proper supply of
condescending nods, friendly greetings, and kind inquiries, to dispense
to each passenger according to his claims. Indeed, in calculating the
length of time requisite for arriving at a certain point, the inhabitant
of a country town should make due allowance for the necessary gossip
which must take place on the road, and for the frequent interchange of
bulletins of health, which is sure to occur; and after a residence of
any length in these sociable places, a sensation of solitude and
desertion is felt in those crowded streets of our metropolis, where the
full tide of population may roll past us for hours without bringing with
it a single glance of recognition or kindness. Here round games and
Casino still find refuge and support amidst a steady band of faithful
partizans; here old maids escape ridicule from being numerous, and old
bachelors acquire importance from being scarce. It is, indeed, to this
latter description of persons that I would especially recommend a
residence in a country town; and, as Dr. Johnson said, that "wherever he
might dine, he would wish to breakfast in Scotland;" so, wherever I may
pass my youth, let my days of old bachelorship, if to such I am doomed,
be spent in a country town. There the genteel male population forsake
their birthplace at an early age; and since war no longer exists to
supply their place with the irresistible military, the importance of a
single man, however small his attractions, however advanced his age, is
considerable; while a tolerably agreeable bachelor under sixty is the
object of universal attention, the cynosure of every lady's eye. In the
cathedral city, where I visited a friend some years since, there were
forty-five single women, from sixteen to fifty, and only three
marriageable men. Let any one imagine the delight of receiving the most
flattering attentions from fifteen women at once, some of them extremely
pretty and agreeable; or, I should rather say, from forty-five, since
the three bachelors, politically avoiding all appearance of preference,
were courted equally by nearly the whole phalanx of the sisterhood. One
of the enviable men, being only just of age, was indeed too young to
excite hopes in the more elderly ladies, but another more fortunate, if
he knew his happiness, ("_sua si bona norit_"), was exposed to the
attacks, more or less open, of every unmarried woman. Alas! he was
insensible to his privileges; a steady man of fifty-five, a dignitary of
the church, devoted to study, and shy in his habits, he seemed to shrink
from the kind attentions he received, and to wish for a less favoured, a
less glorious state of existence. His desires seemed limited to reading
the Fathers, writing sermons, and doing his duty as a divine; and he
appeared of opinion that no helpmate was required to fulfil them. But
still the indefatigable phalanx of forty-five, with three or four widows
as auxiliaries, continued their attacks, and his age, as I before
observed, was fatally encouraging to the hopes of each. The youngest
looked in their glasses and remembered the power of youth and beauty;
the middle-aged calculated on the good sense and propriety of character
of their object, and were "sure he would never marry a girl;" and the
most elderly exaggerated his gravity, thought of his shovel hat, and
seemed to suppose that every woman under fifty must be too giddy for its
wearer. Meanwhile, what a life he led!--his opinions law; his wishes
gospel; the cathedral crowded when he preached; churches attended;
schools visited; waltzing calumniated; novels concealed; shoulders
covered; petticoats lengthened--all to gain his approving eye. The fact
is, his sphere of useful influence was much enlarged by his single
state; as a married man, he could only have reformed his wife; as a
bachelor, he exercised undisputed power over every spinster in his
neighbourhood. He was, indeed, unconscious of, or ungratified by the
deference and incense he received; but the generality of men are less
insensible, and half the homage he so carefully rejected would have been
sufficient to intoxicate with delight and self-complacency the greater
part of his fraternity. What object in nature is more pitiable than a
London old bachelor, of moderate fortune and moderate parts? whose
conversational powers do not secure him invitations to dinners, when
stiffness of limb and a growing formality have obliged him to retreat
from quadrilles. The rich, we know, thrive everywhere, and at all
seasons, safe from neglect, secure from ridicule. I speak of those less
strongly fortified against the effects of time; those who, scarcely
considered good speculations in their best days, are now utterly
insignificant, concealed and jostled by a crowd of younger aspirants,
overlooked by mammas, except when needed to execute some troublesome
commission; and without a chance of receiving a single word or glance
from their daughters unmarked by that provoking ease and compassionate
familiarity, which tell them, better than words, that their day of
influence has closed for ever. Let such unhappy men fly from the scenes
of former pleasure and power, of former flirtation and gaiety, to the
quieter and surer triumphs of a country town. Here crowds of young
women, as certainly devoted to celibacy as the inmates of a nunnery,
accustomed from necessity to make beaux out of the most unprecedented
materials, and concoct flirtations in the most discouraging
circumstances, will welcome him with open arms, underrate his age,
overrate his merits, doubt if his hair is gray, deny that he wears false
teeth, accept his proffered arm with an air of triumph, and even hint a
wonder that he has given up dancing. To their innocent cheeks his glance
will have the long-lost power of calling up a blush; eyes as bright as
those which beamed upon his youth will sparkle at his approach; and
tender hearts, excluded by fate from palpitations for a more suitable
object, must per force beat quicker at his address. Here let him revel
in the enjoyment of unbounded influence, preserve it by careful
management to the latest possible moment, and at length gradually slide
from the agreeable old beau into the interesting invalid, and secure for
his days of gout, infirmity, and sickness, a host of attentive nurses,
of that amiable sex which delights and excels in offices of pity and
kindness; who will read him news, recount him gossip, play backgammon or
cribbage, knit him comfortables, make him jellies, and repay by
affectionate solicitude and unselfish attentions the unmeaning,
heartless, worthless admiration which he bestowed upon them in his
better days.--_New Monthly Magazine_.
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