THE _Manners_ of 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 the _Ton_, or the Fashion, (from which latter term they have
derived their appellation;) and by this mysterious talisman their
manners, their dress, their language, and the whole 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 would exhibit 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 persuade a 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
all nations but their own _barbarians_; but people of Fashion go a step
farther: for they consider themselves _every body_, and the rest of the
world _nobody_. 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 as _nothing_, the
talents, and industry, and virtue, which adorn it.
Their _Language_ would 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.
Their _language_, 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 as _dashing_, _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 is daily 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 always
_meant well_; he had _a good heart __at the bottom_; and he was _nobody’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 had _a good heart_?—Of the man who rarely
manifested, through the whole of his life, any other symptoms than those
which indicate 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, _he_ is said to have been _nobody’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 their _language_, 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 cause distinct from each of these, so it is, that they have but
_one_ term by which they are accustomed to express their strong emotions
both of pleasure and pain. On this _term_ you 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. The traveller 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,
the _sine quâ non_ of every energetic and emphatical period.
Now it happens, unfortunately, that this _catholicon_ in 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 Being whose 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 imports _infernal 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, _why_ such 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 in _one_ respect
with that description of society, from which they make it their pride to
differ in every _other_.